In honor of the New Orleans Saints visiting the city most associated with the American literary legend Edgar Allan Poe and the poem from which Baltimore’s franchise takes its name, I have written by game preview as a poem.
Not being much of a romantic, I haven’t even attempted to write a poem since I was forced to do so in grade school with the only guidelines then being a prohibition on the inclusion of the line “roses are red” and any reference to the island of Nantucket.
I have learned from this experience that finding a word that rhymes with “Flacco” is as frustrating as finding one that rhymes with “orange”. I don’t recommend you try doing either. It’ll only make your brain hurt.
I hope you enjoy reading this opus and if any English graduates feel compelled to pen a critique, you are free to send them over whilst on break from stacking books at Barnes & Noble.
On an afternoon most dreary, the Saints will face a team most leery
Both clubs fighting for their division, will heighten further the collision
Saints must get a win that day and also need help from birds of gray
Trailing to the men of Steel, the Ravens still nip on their heels
Baltimore, star spangled city, K-ville’s known for being gritty
They eat big crabs caught from the sea, we once had fish before BP
But we have jazz, parade and joy
They’ve got Poe, we’ve got Po-Boys
Beyond the fowl of blackened feather, the Saints must deal with nasty weather
A tougher challenge far from home, without the protection of their dome
Black birds are favored in gambling dives, a spread that stands at two point five
With a chance of snow on this coming Sunday, if I were you, the points I’d lay
The offense has been improved through a series of shrewd moves
Drafting smart and making trades, the Ravens even signed Donte
While Joe Flacco is no Trent Dilfer, for Baltimore he has delivered
And when the Ravens need to pound, Ray Rice can get yards on the ground
The Ravens defense was once most fierce, offensive lines they often’d pierced
It doth not take a learned sleuth, to see that they are long in tooth
Ray Lewis, T. Suggs and Ed Reed, they’re not the men they used to be
On Monday night they gave up scores, the Ravens barely flew out the door
But Who Dats cannot really brag, not the way we’re drawing flags
Twelve men on field was not so nice, just when the game looked to be on ice
Cincy came back, the Bengals roar’d, Saints fans attending were all floored
But saved they were by an early sally, which helped complete the Drew Brees rally
The week before in north Texas, had the Who Dats hurling hexes
A big lead blown in Jerry’s palace, the Saints were blessed to win in Dallas
And when our chances looked like zero, Malcolm Jenkins played the hero
THE Ohio Buckeye chased Williams down, forced a fumble and turn’d things around
And while the temperature is bad, there are reasons to be glad
The time elapsed has brought good health, the running corps- a source of wealth
Pierre is back and Reggie’s healed, on Sunday they’ll be on the field
Another player we won’t lack, our future hall of fame d-back
The Saints o-line must protect Brees, lest they bring us to our knees.
On Colston’s hands our hopes will ride, if number Nine hits him in stride
As playoff hopes burn like embers, too bad this game is in December
The toughest contest on the slate, to be fighting champions is their fate
Brees must avoid forcing throws, a pick-six there’s a mortal blow
Punt returns Bush cannot bumble, and pray that Ivory doesn’t fumble
And not to be an orn’ry nag, Jahri Evans should avoid the flag
And if Hartley’s kicks go wide right, Two Dat chances won’t look so bright
Early setbacks had us down, who’d have thought we’d lose to Browns?
Gainst the Cardindals we did not shine, Max Hall beat us in his first time
And with the loss to ATL, the playoff path looks road trip hell
And if New Orleans Saints drop one more, a repeat as division champs?, nevermore!