Turf Show Times: Ramdude's RAMblins 4/24/13

In honor of the TST staff and loyal readers: "'Twas The Night Before the NFL Draft"

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore or Henry Livingston whoever you are.

Doug: "My good Yugo is in the shop."

'Twas the night before Draft, when all through the house
Every PC was whirring, and every PC mouse;
Past mockings were flung by the trash can there,
Amid hopes Tevon Austin wouldn’t vanish in thin air;

The Rams’ war room was at fever pitch,
With visions of trade-downs pulled off without hitch;
And Les in his hair gel, and Fish in his stash,
Had just settled down for a long night’s thrash,

When out in the lot there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the room to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up on the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen rain
Gave a lustre and made objects appear insane,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature Yugo, with eight TSTers in high gear,

With a little old driver, so lively and glib,
They knew in a moment it must be Van Bib.
Less rapid than eagles his writers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, 3K! now, DOUGLAS! now, DC and TEVIN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now mock away! Mock away! mock away all!"

As beer cans that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to war room the dudes they flew,
With fists full of rankings, and Van Bibber too.

And then, in a twinkling, they heard in the head
The choking and coughing of Doug almost dead.
Too many Cheetos! And some might have been old.
But finally, at last, an orange glob hit the bowl.

Now all eyes turned to Fisher and Les,
What they had planned was anybody’s guess.
A stack full of papers Fish had in his hand,
The mystery was more than anyone could stand.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His mini-mullet was drawn up with a bow,
And the straggle on his chin was as white as blow;

The stump of a stogey he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and bodacious mustache,
That filtered what he drank with great panache.

The group was gathered and ready to help,
When someone stepped on DC’s foot and he gave a yelp;
3K offered a list of every graduating JuCo transfer,
Watched personally and ranked as he would prefer.

Fish spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And studied the list; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He said thanks but you guys got to goes.

Ryan sprang to the Yugo, to his guys gave a whistle,
And away they all sputtered like a wayward SCUD missile.
But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,

GOOD LUCK RAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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