'Twas the night of Week 8, when all throughout Philly
Not a shit talker was stirring, they weren’t nearly that silly;
The scoreboard was hung on the index with care,
And hopes that from Baltimore they soon would be spared;
The baddies were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of the beat down still danced in their heads;
And TB still shaking, and Kendrick’s knees still weak,
Had just settled their mouths for a long winter's sleep,
When out on the discord there arose such a clatter,
They cowered in their cave from whatever’s the matter.
Away from the forums they fled in the night,
Closed up the shutters and boarded them tight.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But the Baltimore Hawks and the biggest blowout of the year,
With a petty young GM so brash from the sim,
I knew in a moment he must be iamslm.
More light than a feather Lib players they treaded,
And he asked to everyone the question Philly dreaded:
"Anyone know how the sim went tonight?
I’m afraid I missed it, we played Philly right?
It must have been a beatdown of quite epic scale
Judging by the way they’ve all fled and turned tail!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the discord the Libs they flew
With a sleigh full of excuses, and plenty butthurt too
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from their mouth
The many reasons for their season gone south.
As I drew in a chuckle, and was shitposting with glee,
The Philadelphia players began to attack me!
From their preseason hubris, now in despair,
When Baltimore returns fire, why it just isn’t fair!
NSFC champions they dubbed themselves,
And now 3-5, aspirations back on the shelves
“Trust the Process!” they returned to, starting to weep
For they had not foreseen a Baltimore sweep!
And to give up so many points in both games,
Perhaps next year more attainable aims.
But the verdict is in and there can be no doubt
As a conference contender they don’t have the clout.
With improvements on offense and on defense too
Maybe next year they can avoid 0-2
Against the mighty and noble Hawks of Baltimore
But more than likely we’ll see a similar score.
A humbling experience could describe Week 8
For the team from Philly that’s at best third rate
No lesson was learned, no searching of souls
So this offseason will see the return of the trolls;
Delusions of awards and of the Ultimus too
The Liberty will shout and that day will they rue.
As they pound their keyboards, filled with rage
The Hawks are off to the league’s biggest stage
Facing much better opponents in games actually fun
So I’ll leave you with this: “Seven to Fifty One”
Not a shit talker was stirring, they weren’t nearly that silly;
The scoreboard was hung on the index with care,
And hopes that from Baltimore they soon would be spared;
The baddies were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of the beat down still danced in their heads;
And TB still shaking, and Kendrick’s knees still weak,
Had just settled their mouths for a long winter's sleep,
When out on the discord there arose such a clatter,
They cowered in their cave from whatever’s the matter.
Away from the forums they fled in the night,
Closed up the shutters and boarded them tight.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But the Baltimore Hawks and the biggest blowout of the year,
With a petty young GM so brash from the sim,
I knew in a moment he must be iamslm.
More light than a feather Lib players they treaded,
And he asked to everyone the question Philly dreaded:
"Anyone know how the sim went tonight?
I’m afraid I missed it, we played Philly right?
It must have been a beatdown of quite epic scale
Judging by the way they’ve all fled and turned tail!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the discord the Libs they flew
With a sleigh full of excuses, and plenty butthurt too
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from their mouth
The many reasons for their season gone south.
As I drew in a chuckle, and was shitposting with glee,
The Philadelphia players began to attack me!
From their preseason hubris, now in despair,
When Baltimore returns fire, why it just isn’t fair!
NSFC champions they dubbed themselves,
And now 3-5, aspirations back on the shelves
“Trust the Process!” they returned to, starting to weep
For they had not foreseen a Baltimore sweep!
And to give up so many points in both games,
Perhaps next year more attainable aims.
But the verdict is in and there can be no doubt
As a conference contender they don’t have the clout.
With improvements on offense and on defense too
Maybe next year they can avoid 0-2
Against the mighty and noble Hawks of Baltimore
But more than likely we’ll see a similar score.
A humbling experience could describe Week 8
For the team from Philly that’s at best third rate
No lesson was learned, no searching of souls
So this offseason will see the return of the trolls;
Delusions of awards and of the Ultimus too
The Liberty will shout and that day will they rue.
As they pound their keyboards, filled with rage
The Hawks are off to the league’s biggest stage
Facing much better opponents in games actually fun
So I’ll leave you with this: “Seven to Fifty One”
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