Laddie Morse
My brother shared with me recently that while the day before Christmas is typically called, Christmas “Eve”… the day before that is called Christmas “Adam.” Let that sink in for a moment, and if you’re at all familiar with the book of Genesis in the Bible, you’ll possibly understand it. In the meantime, here’s my feeble attempt at some Chiefs Kingdom Christmas cheer:
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‘Twas the night before the day after Christmas (iow… tomorrow night),
When all throughout Arrowhead,
Not a creature was stirring, thank God not even little Covid,
The game plan was finished, all the plays were in place,
In hopes that the Steelers’ defense would soon be disgraced.
The vaccinated players were all snug with their meds,
While visions of RPOs danced in their heads.
When out in the clubhouse there arose such a clatter,
Reid sprang from his chair – well, he got up — and that’s what matters.
Tore open double doors, to find Nick Bolton lifting weights,
Which triggered — for heaven’s sakes — a dream state,
When what to his eyes he couldn’t possibly believe,
Was the perfect player for the pass rush, conceived by Steve,
Then in pranced Brett Veach, and confirmed a late round trade,
He’d made for an Ingram, to complete the brigade.
Yet Reid sat perplexed, yes so vexed, with his offensive blues,
What would he do? Whose name could he use?
And then recollected with a twitch of his pen,
He’d use his own GOAT, to make mice into men,
So, he turned to the night sky and yelled out, oh so sudden:
“On, Hardman, On Pringle, On Robinson, On Gordon,”
To the top of old GEHA, at the top of his vocal range,
Reid knew in an instant he’d have to make a change,
So, he yelled out more player names, some even biblical:
“On Noah, On Blake, On Darrel, On Michael.”
Reid was dressed all in red, from his head to his socks,
But let all who would listen to his preference for Cheeseburgers over bagels and lox.
His bundle of Toys (weapons) he was still employing,
Made him look like a U-Boat Colonel, prepping for destroying.
Reid spoke not a word, and then jumped in his truck,
Drove down Arrowhead Way, looked up, but moonstruck.,
He thought, “How could my wife of so many years,”
“Put up with my late nights, my absence, my tears?”
Then he heard her exclaim, as he pulled in the drive,
“Happy Christmas to all, and may all the Kingdom thrive!”
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Laddie Morse — ArrowheadOne
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