It is time for an Arrowhead Addict tradition. If you have been reading this site for any amount of time, you know we sometimes moonlight as a poetry blog. Well, one tradition we have around here is bringing you a fresh version of The Night Before
Before you read this year’s entry, I suggest you check out ‘Twas The Night Before Chiefsmas III, which was released last year during the playoffs. It is a prequel of sorts, to this poem.
‘Twas the night before Chiefsmas IV
‘Twas the night before Chiefmas, when all through floor,
The Addicts were stuck in shock therapy bore.
Their straight jackets were hung by the bedside with care,
In case they got restless from last year’s nightmares.
We had all been locked up, the offseason too long,
The memories of Palko were simply too strong.
They took my Bowe jersey and they took my Chiefs cap,
Shot me full of drugs for a long football nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I staggered so slow,
I couldn’t see much, it was covered with snow.
I banged on the window and shifted the ice,
A shadow so fat, it must be Charlie Weis.
But, what should my dry, bloodshot eyes see instead?
Romeo Crennel, a Chiefs cap on his head!
With a big old belly and some Gates in a sack,
I knew in an instant that it had to be RAC.
He kicked open the window, surprisingly strong,
He carried a football and said to “Go long.”
“So Paddy, so Merlin, now Randy and Vic,
Come Lyle, Natasha, Double D and Nick!
Wake all the Addicts, I’m back with some beer,
To break you all out, get you out of here.”
Coach RAC had come back, to set the Addicts free,
I sprang into action and started to flee.
The Addicts emerged and ran to my side,
For Coach had secured a safe house to hide.
We ran out in the cold, the rain and the sleet,
Some of us shirtless, and some in bare feet.
“Where to now, Coach?” I said with a yell,
“To my Escalade, son, now please run like hell.”
We all hopped in to his black, shiny ride,
He drove like a mad man, while cops chased behind.
A turn and a swerve and soon we were clear,
And Romeo stopped, for there was nothing to fear.
He was dressed in all red, from his head to his feet,
And he jumped out of the car and into the sleet.
He opened the trunk and pulled out his sack,
It was full of burnt ends, some beer and Big Macs.
His eyes, they were glowing, with snow in his hair,
I was half naked, we made quite a pair.
He tossed me a jersey, so I wouldn’t be cold,
On the back it said “Croyle” and it was covered in mold.
I handed it back and said “thanks, but I’ll freeze.”
He tossed me another one that said “Killer B’s”
I looked to my left, wondering where we were,
But the night was so black, I couldn’t be sure.
Romeo chuckled, as if he knew my query,
“We’re in a the right place, friends, please don’t be weary.”
I looked to my right and gaped in disbelief,
A football-shaped scoreboard, the home of the Chiefs!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He pulled out his playbook, and glanced with a smirk,
At the Addicts he’d freed from the prison of loss,
Now that Haley was gone and he was the boss.
He strode toward the stadium and didn’t look back,
He left all the beer, the ribs and the snacks.
But we heard him exclaim, ‘ere he took off his specs,
Tomorrow we’ll beat them, the Super Bowl;s next.
I hope you guys enjoyed this year’s entry. You can see some of AA’s other poetry below:
‘Twas The Night Before Chiefsmas (The original)
Chiefs To Ravens: “Nevermore” by Victor Wishna