Twas the Night before Sunday!

[Cowboyz1]

'Twas the night before Sunday, when all through the house

 

Not a creature was stirring, not even a Krause;

 

The Boy’ jersey’s were hung by the chimney with care,

 

In hopes that a Trophy soon would be there;

 

The child is nestled all snug in his bed,

 

While visions of touchdowns danced in Dad’s head;

 

And mamma in her Chargers Jersey, and I in my Boy’s cap,

 

Had just settled down for a stiff night cap,

 

When on my flat screen there arose such a clatter,

 

I double clicked my mouse to see what was the matter.

 

Away to The Huddle I typed like a flash,

 

Tore open the forums and made a mad dash.

 

The words on the screen read a sickening blow,

 

Shaun, Suisham’s our kicker, and Vandy’s a no go

 

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

 

Watkins starting at safety, what? get me a beer

 

A lanky tall hitter, but lively and quick,

 

I think he can play, might take back a pick.

 

More changes at tackle, and even at guard,

 

Adams is gimpy, but still has some game,

 

This line is our key, so I’ll call them by name;

 

"Now, Kosier! now, Andre! now, Rivera and McQuistan!

 

On, Colombo! on Johnson! on, Procter and Jason!

 

Mount up my fine horsemen, down set is the call!

 

Now mash away! mash away! mash away all!"

 

As dry leaves beget autumn, the D will be stout

 

They’ll hunt with intensions, of producing a rout,

 

So up to roost on the NFC East they flew,

 

With a sack full of wins, and a division title too.

 

And then, in a vision, I peeped in dim light,

 

Our million dollar kicker missed a field goal, wide right.

 

As I kicked the dog violently, and was cussing the ground,

 

I remembered his stats and finally calm down.

 

He has kicked for some time, 87% clutch to his foot,

 

But if he misses a big one, Bill's foot he will put;

 

Deep in his rectum Bill's boot will attack,

 

He'll only reset for a shot at his sack.

 

Mike's eyes -- how they’ll twinkle! His balls akin melons!

 

Enough is enough, Bill put on my Gellins!

 

This O will be dangerous, so I don’t need to fret,

 

We’ll be scoring sevens, and that you can bet;

 

The day’s almost here, pre-games on it’s way

 

Some finally words from my tips I must say;

 

Despite Parcells hair and diminished round belly,

 

He’ll coach this young team, then open his deli.

 

Coach of the year, from the cables they’ll cry,

 

As I jump on the floor, thrust my fists to the sky;

 

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

 

No need for more words, enough has been said;

 

But I’m here to exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

 

"Happy Sunday to all, and to all a good fight."

Edited September 10, 2006 by Cowboyz1

[Robash]

that was pretty good for cowboys propaganda

[Sigalf03]

 

I like it, except all that cowboys stuff, but good work non the less

[broncosn05]

I hope you didn't spend to much time on that

[Tega]

That's the kind of stuff I enjoy before the games begin. It's all part of the fun. My visions are of The Eagles winning though.

 

Well done.

 

ENJOY THE GAMES ALL!

[Thunder Chicken]

good stuff

[spot7]

I like it, except all that cowboys stuff, but good work non the less

 

you can never have to much cowboys stuff

[tbimm]

Cow Girls or not that was pretty cool.

[Cowboyz1]

Thank you. I'll be here all season.