Sunday, October 20, 2013

I Don't Even Know I Can't Even

I want to start off by saying that I OBVIOUSLY should have written this post sooner, like, well before the game instead of well after. But I'd like to blame Shawn (because it's easy) for my slacking, as he was out of the office on Thursday and Friday (I'm sure with a legit reason), so I couldn't really get into a shit-talking mood. Good thing, turns out.

This Ravens - Steelers game was uglier than the population of Pittsburgh. Both sides were awful, but it turns out, the Ravens were more awful. Let's not discuss the on-side kick that was ruined by an offside penalty and by MVP of the Year Justin Tucker touching the damn thing too early then getting SMOKED while he was trying to recover it. (1:22 shows the close-up.) 

Then you have Troy COMPLETELY blowing the timing on a field goal snap. It wasn't his first misread of the game, although it was certainly the most "WTF" to watch. Because he's been spending too much energy trying to read the QB's/snapper's minds, I think he's started living 3 seconds in the future. (That's a thing, right?)

So here's what Shawn wrote as a way of...I don't know...trying to be clever. I spent most of the week in a simmering, art school kid seethe about it. I mean, if you're going to write a parody of a form poem, you need to actually maintain the form (meter, rhyme scheme, etc.). But whatever. The rhyming got better towards the end, and as Shawn said, "YOU try writing something creative in two minutes!" Please see my (unfinished, thanks to a creativity drain at the end of the week) poem at the end of this post. It took me one minute to write.

"Twas the week before the Ravens Steelers game and not a player was stirring, not even a Ryan Clark Twitter posting. The jock straps were tightened with care in hopes that no fumble pile crotch shots would be there. The coaches were nestled all snug in their film rooms with visions of helmet-to-helmet collisions and Troy's flowing hair. When out on the ketchup field arose such a clatter as Brett Keisel's beard shouted, "Whatsa matter?" Joe Flacco sprang from the pocket with a flash to throw another check down to Ray Rice at the hash. Lawrence Timmons screamed, "On Haywood, on Taylor, on Williams and Jones RIP apart these damn Ravens, tear their skin from their bones!"

Nikki's Poem
Twas the night before game day
and all through the streets,
not a person was shit-talking,
not even Ryan Clark's tweets.

Terrible Towels
were strung far and wide
so crying Steelers fans
had somewhere to hide.

The Ravens were sleeping
all snug in their nest,
dreaming of last year
when they were the best.

Perhaps I'll finish writing this poem for the Thanksgiving Night game...WHICH I'LL BE ATTENDING AT HOME IN BALTIMORE BECAUSE MY DADDY GOT ME TICKETS!!!!!!...but we'll see.

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