Monday, December 31, 2012

A NEW YEAR'S EVE POEM





It’s New Year’s Eve, the last day of the year,
Where we remember 2012, and stand up and cheer.
The Heat may have won, with Bron, Bosh and Wade,
In a lockout shortened season, where 66 games were played.
But it’s a fresh season now, with all kinds of plots,
And my poem that I share is the greatest ever written by a lot.
Lob City is lobbing, and never losing a match,
Even if Lamar Odom looks like he crushed down a Tollhouse batch.
The Lakers struggled early, as the Mamba went mad,
Dwight Howard is a jerk, so I don’t feel really bad.
And even if Gatsby can help right the ship,
The Lakers aren’t going anywhere with that bench made of (expletive).
The Thunder are fine, even without Mr. Beard,
Russ West and Velvet Hoop are enough to be feared.
In the East it’s the Knicks that have been dropping mad bombs,
Winning games and hitting threes with vigorous aplomb.
Those last two lines exemplify why this poem is so great,
And if it’s OK with him, Kyrie Irving would be my prom date.
Let’s toast some players, some moments, some games, and some teams,
Before we all go out and have the night of our dreams.
New Year’s Eve means lots of fun, cheering, whistles and bells,
A night to see the sights, and to smell the smells.
Blake Griffin soaring through the air is quite the wondrous sight,
While the smell from Nikola Pekovic’s pits is certainly a fright.
And even if his pits were as bald as a monk,
Mr. Pek’s pits would still definitely stink the stunk.
It’s all good in Minnesota, though, for you see they are fine,
Especially when they throw out their favorite Whitewash of mine.
I’ve enjoyed the Manimal, JaVale, Boogie Cousins and Jimmer,
While still waiting for Celtics leader Rajon Rondo to hit a game winner.
The Pistons are strangely intriguing, with guys like Monroe and Drum,
And the Pelican name change is both amazing and dumb.
Hashtag “NO LIN TALK” is still in effect,
I’m not impressed with him, sorry, I’m not, what the heck.
While DeMarcus Cousins may play games with the vigor of someone on drugs,
Remember this folks:  The Bozos are better than Unplugged.
While the Celtics lose games, and my patience grows thin,
I see James Bucklin’s Fantasy Draft, and that always makes me grin.
Then I look at my squad, and I turn the lights way down,
And crack a Zima, and pull my pants to the ground.
And you’ll hear me exclaim, as the bell tolls MIDNIGHT,
Happy New Year to everyone!  Hey Kobe, wanna fight?

Tweet me feed back @PBTbenkez

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