An Ode to Football

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Editor's Note: This fan poem was originally published January 2014. 

 

At the end of Shabbos
There is always a machlokes
On who will do well
And who will continue to dwell 

Because from September to February
Every week is a mystery
How will he come out?
What will Rex Ryan shout? 

No week is ever a sure thing
As to who will win and sing.
This is because from the start of the game
Every team’s score is exactly the same.

Every player is psyched
When the kicker kicks, to everyone’s like
While the kick is in the air
The anticipation that is there
Is the same as the last of Super Bowl week

When the quarterback is staring at the center’s feet
And everyone’s eyes are on the QB
As he flings the Hail Mary that is to be
Not bounced, not tipped, but caught
As that moment will show how far they fought

Fought is how they got here, not because someone said they’ll win that’s what I deem  
Because as we all know, there is no dream team.
 

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