Twas the Night Before Recruitmas -- 2015
Feb 3, 2015 10:04:15 GMT -6
War Eagle Girl, bigdaddy334, and 7 more like this
Post by Jet on Feb 3, 2015 10:04:15 GMT -6
AND BACK, IN SPITE OF POPULAR DEMAND, 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE RECRUITMAS 2015!
'Twas the night before Recruitmas, when all through the Fight Club
The Fighters were fidgeting -- THT biting his nails down to the nub;
The fax machine was plugged in by the chimney with care,
In hopes that missives from five-stars soon would be there.
Elsewhere, children were nestled all snug in their beds;
But not folks who worry who’ll replace Sammie and his dreads.
And Steve in his off-grid tool shed, and AllenD on his backhoe,
Rattled brains with posts about blue Recruitmases not long ago.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I stumbled out of my recliner to see what was the matter.
Away to the front door, I shuffled like an arthritic 51-year old,
To see who was trespassing and be so bold.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen rain,
Sure makes my knees hurt with all that pain,
When what did appear to my eyes to my wondering eyes so droopy?
But a smoky Dodge Charger with Nick Marshall and, wait, Hoopie?
With a little, slippery driver so lively and quick,
When I smelled what came out of the car, I knew he must be Nick.
I stared for a moment, then stifled a yawn.
Stirring up anger, I yelled “Get off my lawn!”
But then stunningly from the trunk all of sudden Gus came,
And he pointed at the ground, rolled his arms and called them by name:
"Now, Boom! now, T-Rob! Now Rodney and Lance!
Get me some defensive players who won’t get faked outta their pants!
To high schools in Georgia! In Florida, anywhere near Miami!
Go get Auburn some five stars, and four stars and maybe a three.”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Gus’ recruiting elves mounted soaring scooters to the sky;
So to the housetops of recruits the coaches they flew
With bags of cash perhaps accompanying them, too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard more from the trunk,
Twas another squadron of scooter riders out to end our offensive funk.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Gus was running toward me at quite a bound.
He was dressed in a Ditka vest and chomping at his gum,
Saying “Ehyou is awesome. And tell API and Commish, ‘Git sum!”
The next squad of scooters riders each had a backpack,
Hopefully to find a few more linemen, a wideout, and an H-back.
A screeching yell of “Boom!” and his fist he did pump,
Soon gave me to know that Gus was about to jump.
He looked at his clipboard, and surveying his work,
The turned to me and said, “You know, Biff is a Verne-hatin’ jerk.”
And hitching his pants before popping in a piece of Double-Bubble
He said, “We’re gonna get this fixed, errybody else is in trouble.”
He walked to the Charger and took the keys from Nick,
“I’m not letting you start it, but you’ll be driving it quick.”
As they backed out my driveway, Gus gave me a wave.
“Tell Norm and Art they’re idiots and tell Michael to behave!”
I also heard him exclaim, just before he drove out of sight—
“Happy Recruitmas to all, Boom says ‘#$^%$#%##$%*’ and to all a good night!”
'Twas the night before Recruitmas, when all through the Fight Club
The Fighters were fidgeting -- THT biting his nails down to the nub;
The fax machine was plugged in by the chimney with care,
In hopes that missives from five-stars soon would be there.
Elsewhere, children were nestled all snug in their beds;
But not folks who worry who’ll replace Sammie and his dreads.
And Steve in his off-grid tool shed, and AllenD on his backhoe,
Rattled brains with posts about blue Recruitmases not long ago.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I stumbled out of my recliner to see what was the matter.
Away to the front door, I shuffled like an arthritic 51-year old,
To see who was trespassing and be so bold.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen rain,
Sure makes my knees hurt with all that pain,
When what did appear to my eyes to my wondering eyes so droopy?
But a smoky Dodge Charger with Nick Marshall and, wait, Hoopie?
With a little, slippery driver so lively and quick,
When I smelled what came out of the car, I knew he must be Nick.
I stared for a moment, then stifled a yawn.
Stirring up anger, I yelled “Get off my lawn!”
But then stunningly from the trunk all of sudden Gus came,
And he pointed at the ground, rolled his arms and called them by name:
"Now, Boom! now, T-Rob! Now Rodney and Lance!
Get me some defensive players who won’t get faked outta their pants!
To high schools in Georgia! In Florida, anywhere near Miami!
Go get Auburn some five stars, and four stars and maybe a three.”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Gus’ recruiting elves mounted soaring scooters to the sky;
So to the housetops of recruits the coaches they flew
With bags of cash perhaps accompanying them, too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard more from the trunk,
Twas another squadron of scooter riders out to end our offensive funk.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Gus was running toward me at quite a bound.
He was dressed in a Ditka vest and chomping at his gum,
Saying “Ehyou is awesome. And tell API and Commish, ‘Git sum!”
The next squad of scooters riders each had a backpack,
Hopefully to find a few more linemen, a wideout, and an H-back.
A screeching yell of “Boom!” and his fist he did pump,
Soon gave me to know that Gus was about to jump.
He looked at his clipboard, and surveying his work,
The turned to me and said, “You know, Biff is a Verne-hatin’ jerk.”
And hitching his pants before popping in a piece of Double-Bubble
He said, “We’re gonna get this fixed, errybody else is in trouble.”
He walked to the Charger and took the keys from Nick,
“I’m not letting you start it, but you’ll be driving it quick.”
As they backed out my driveway, Gus gave me a wave.
“Tell Norm and Art they’re idiots and tell Michael to behave!”
I also heard him exclaim, just before he drove out of sight—
“Happy Recruitmas to all, Boom says ‘#$^%$#%##$%*’ and to all a good night!”
