Former San Francisco 49ers tight end Brent Jones probably walked into this autograph session at Sports Authority thinking he’d sign a few balls, shake a few hands, and then go home. There was no way he was prepared to listen to a grown man recite a six minute epic poem chronicling his entire career, starting in high school and finishing by listing off what Jones had for breakfast that morning while he peered through the window from the bushes in front of his house.
OK, so maybe the guy didn’t go so far as to stalk Jones (there was no peering into windows to watch Jones eat his Grape Nuts), but it was still a little creepy to see that kind of fandom at work. Jones showed incredible restraint, and I was amazed that he let the guy finish reading the entire thing. I would have fed that poem through a shredder, had the shredder dynamited, and then launched the exploded shredder debris into space. I would want that poem to be as far away, and in as many pieces, as possible.
But then I got to thinking, maybe I’m just jealous of that maniac’s prose. Is he truly a better poet than I? I decided to do my best Robert Pinksy impression and the results were…well, they were results.
It looks as though your career might come to an end
Maybe it’s time to fade into the background my friend
You caught footballs, talked smack and received tons of scorn
Now you can fulfill your dream, of starring in porn
You’re a lucky man; you were able to bag Gisele
But facing the younger Manning, has been your personal hell
You’ve lost twice to the Giants, but don’t feel so blue
You can’t throw the football and then go catch it too
Overpriced Beer Guy
You prance around the stadium, shilling one of my vices
Then you gouge my wallet with your ludicrous prices
After about 15 visits, my pockets are empty and my words begin to sputter
I’ll wake up seven hours later, face down in the gutter.
I apologize, that was horrific. Just really, really bad.
Thanks to KSK for making me aware of this future poet laureate