I was lethargically reworking classic Christmas carols for this week's post when Dawg2011 seeded my
silly brilliant mind with a devilish idea. Given the assumption that much of this SEC rescheduling ridiculousness centers around the Hogs' dissent about when and where to play the Aggies, one could argue that the grand poo headsbahs at Arkansas are partially responsible for the current lack of a new SEC schedule. So Dawg2011 suggested I write a "The Petrino Who Stole Christmas" limerick, but he and everyone else here should know by now that there's no way I could ever stop with just a limerick.
I also feel that I should add the caveat (because you never know when some bah humbug will show up here with a distinct lack of Christmas cheer) that I, of course, do not believe this poem to be an honest, journalistic account of how this scheduling debacle has unfolded. I realize that Petrino has little or nothing to do with scheduling. But it's Christmas and SEC power-brokers and Dr. Seuss and Petrino and Cherokee's Grip and...well, add all those things together and you get this
disasterpiece masterpiece. I'm sorry this all runs together, but for the past several weeks, the post editor does not recognize any paragraph breaks I make after the jump. With apologies to Dr. Seuss (and the Grinch, who does not deserve this comparison):
logged on Dawg Sports
liked Christmas a lot...
who lived west in Arkansas
Petrino hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Perhaps lack of football explained his sad reason.
It could be that he felt he'd been screwed on the sked;
he wanted to play Aggies elsewhere instead.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
may have been that his heart was a leaden football.
whatever the reason,
his heart or game logs,
he sat there behind his desk, hating the Dawgs.
Staring down at the desk with a Petrinoey frown,
getting the picture of the festive Athens-town.
For he knew every Dawg in his mental display
was eagerly waiting to find who they'd play.
"Tigers or Gamecocks?!" he mocked with a sneer.
"They're brimming with football and Christmas good cheer!"
Then he grunted, his fingers furiously drumming,
"I must keep that schedule and Christmas from coming!"
For, that weekend, he knew...
All good girl and boy Dawgs
would wake up bright and early and would rush to their blogs!
And then! Dialogue! Dialogue! Dia-logue! Logue! Logue! Logue!
That's one thing he hated! Dialogue! Logue! Logue! Logue! Logue!
Then the Dawgs, young and old, would sit down to a talk.
And they'd talk. And they'd talk.
And they'd TALK, TALK, TALK, TALK!
They would study Dawg line-up like they sideline did walk,
and remember the one whom the goal line did stalk.
they'd do something he liked least of all!
Every Dawg logged on Dawg Sports, the tall and the small,
would discuss the new schedule, as if they'd be winning.
They'd talk tongue-in-cheek, and the Dawgs would be grinning.
They'd win. And they'd talk.
And they'd Grin, grin, grin, grin!
And the more Petrino thought of the Dawg-Christmas-Grin,
the more Petrino thought, "This will never begin.
I've stopped things in Georgia half-way through before now;
I must stop that sked from coming!
Then he got an idea!
An awesome idea!
got a wonderful, awesome idea!
"I know just what to do!" Petrino squealed with great glee.
And he drafted his brain-wave before it could flee.
And he sooied and snickered, "What a Petrinoey trick!
With this song and this dance, I'll sound just like Li'l Nick!"
"All I need is a forum..."
Petrino looked ‘round.
In this digital age, one was easily found.
You can't stop the signal,
this truth Petrino knew;
his assertions on facebook and Twitter, they flew.
He affixed his hog's head colored deepest blood red-
he wore the foul thing to hide horns on his head.
he loaded some words
and talked to some old hacks;
he did voice his complaints
and league's patience did tax.
Petrino said, "Jerryworld!
Kyle Field! Blah blah blah!"
To the blogs of the Dawgs
Petrino said, "Ha, ha, ha!"
All their mutt'rings were dark; baleful words filled the boards.
Dawg Sports Dawgs were all thinking thoughts most untoward
about giving ol' Bobby his just reward.
"I support relegation," an irate Dawg fan hissed;
Then he gave a great woof as he shook his clenched fist.
Head Hog's grumbles were frail, light as a neutrino,
but what else should a Dawg fan expect from Petrino?
He got stuck only once, for a couple of days,
when it seemed like the schedule would come out apace,
but the SEC powers pulled off an about-face.
"We'll make them," he grinned, "care about where we play."
Then Petrino sat back with a smile most unpleasant,
and smiled while blogs predicted future from present.
Gamecocks! No, Tigers! Jerryworld! Kyle Field!
Check yer boards! No schedule? Come on! Please yield!
And he savored their ire. Then Petrino sat smugly
as football fans, one by one, blogged things ugly.
Then he slunk to the fan shots. He laughed at Dawgs' talk.
He laughed at Dawgs' line-up, made fun of Dawgs' stock.
He laughed at those fanshots with gifs made of flashes.
He laughed at their want of a list of Dawg clashes.
Thus he stopped that ol' schedule's release with much glee.
"And NOW!" grinned Petrino, "Wait indefinitely!"
Petrino relished the wait as his plan did succeed.
He knew that no person his vict'ry could impede.
He flinched e'er so slightly at the dinging report
of receipt of an email from the mayor of Dawg Sports.
Petrino'd been queried by blog's fearless leader
Who wanted some answers for his loyal readers.
The email politely asked, "Petrino, please tell,
Why are you our schedule trying to quell?
"You think yourself clever, so smart and so slick,
I see through your lies, and think you're a Da'Rick.
Now unhand next year's sked so bus'ness can resume;
I can blog a response and don Santa's costume,
getting back to my family, away from your guile.
I hope you enjoyed this missive from Evil Kyle."
Petrino glared at the screen but sneered in contempt;
Why from his master plan should Dawg Sports be exempt?
He rolled his eyes and absently scratched at a horn;
didn't Dawg Sports know that the Internet is for...
He ended his musings
and deleted his mail.
He took a deep, calming breath, and then he exhaled.
No pompous blog big-shot would cause his plan to fail.
Not a single reply
did he write to T Kyle;
he continued the Bulldogs' Christmas to defile.
he did the same thing
to the other Dawgs' bloggers:
as a jot
to those inbox-cloggers.
‘Twas the night before Christmas...
all the Dawgs, still a-bed,
all the Dawgs, still a-snooze,
were not in Petrino's head
as he laughed at their quandary, their ire, their gum-flapping!
Their hatred, their loathing, their near-constant yapping!
Three thousand words on hold! No schedule, no reply post.
"T Kyle's Christmas Day is compost!
Ha Ha on the Dawgs!" he was Petrinoishly humming.
"They're finding out now that no schedule is coming!
They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"In-by my calculations-a minute or two,
All the Dawgs logged on Dawg sports will all type, "*Boo Hoo!"
"That's a sight," purred Petrino,
"That I simply must see."
So he waited, his eyes glued to monitor's face.
He grinned as posts popped up all over the place.
His eyes had to race to keep up with the pace.
But the posts were not sad!
Why, their timbre was merry!
They couldn't be so!
But they were merry! Very!
He goggled at Dawg Sports!
Petrino did stare!
He was shocked
At the general lack of despair.
Every Dawg logged on Dawg Sports, the tall and the small,
Was joyful! Without any schedule at all!
He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming!
In spite of no schedule, it came just the same!
And Petrino, his beady eyes narrowed in thought,
Sat puzzling and puzzling, "It shouldn't've ought!
It came without schedules of games or of times!
It came without T Kyle's blog post sublime!"
He puzzled three hours-or maybe ‘twas two;
with Petrino's mathematics, the tallies, they grew.
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a sked.
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, is God and family instead."
And what happened then?
Well, on Dawg Sports they say
that Petrino's lead heart
grew more befuddled that day.
Then the sked was released and T Kyle did post,
and Dawg Sports again showed why it's better than most
by talking and toasting with great Christmas cheer
and celebrating the glimpse ahead to next year.
Dawg Sports was beyond peer.
*They might also type something less family-friendly, but I'll leave those specifics to the commentariat's ever-fertile imagination.