A golden voice from the west
Evoked
diamonds and homers and the rest
His
was the sound of summer
His goodbye was a joyous bummer
Vin
Scully, you were always the best
A
sad goodbye to the Mad Hatter
Tons
of wins didn’t matter
At
a shit-ton of grass
Allergic
to the forward pass
Les
Miles, come help State climb the ladder
If
this were a race
The
'Fins just fell on their face
A
new year but all the same weakness
We're
the burro running the Preakness
Better
show something soon, Gase
Same
ol' Mets I feel ya
They
need a mojo healah
An
offense full of jokes
And
a 'pen of chokes
Somehow
it all seemed Familia
Turned
the Irish into a dud
With
a slippery slide and a thud
Made Notre Dame swoon
In
a Carter-Finley monsoon
Then
celebrated with a roll in the mud
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