The Singular File: Seuss Abuse

Ace Davis, a blogger of reknown, writes a tale about the Cleveland Browns...

Oh no, Romeo! Oh no.
What was he thinking?
I sure don't know.
 
Fast Texan snags a touchdown ball,
but did he juggle it at all?
I don't know.
Ask Romeo.
For in his pocket,
next to a Wocket
is a flag to throw.
Throw it, Romeo!
Let a zebra review the call.
 
But no! Oh no.
Romeo won't let go.
He does not want the game to lag
Or drag, or sag, or hit a snag.
It might cost a time-out, you see.
It's the first half. You get just three.
He will not throw the flag afield.
The touchdown was left unappealed.
 
Oh no, Romeo! Oh no.
Texans seven, Browns zero.
 
Later, on the Bryant ball,
The big coach did not loll at all.
The flag was flung
'cause the whole game swung
on a call any eyeball
could see just fine:
Antonio's big toe crossed the line.
 
Watch it fast or watch it slow.
At least the ball didn't hit his mask
and fall onto the ground below.
 
Oh no, Romeo! Oh no.
How much lower can we go?
 
The last drive
was a desperate time.
The Browns have two backs,
partners in crime.
One is named Green,
once known for his yaks,
now most often seen
falling back when attacked.
But runs from Droughns,
the other halfback,
resemble two cyclones,
ripping through an old shack.
 
With the game on the line
and needing a score
when I saw Willie 
my jaw hit the floor.
They drew up a draw
And it gained just a yard.
The clock kept a tickin'
With my heart beating hard.
Then a drop and a sack
and an underthrown lob.
The throbbing had settled
into a low sob.
Would rambling Reuben
have kept this alive?
He was out, maybe wondering
about his next drive.
 
That Romeo! That Romeo!
What was he thinking?
I sure don't know.
 
He has a Cutt.
Boy, does it smart!
An itty bitty Cutt that starts.
In spite of all the injury fears,
he's led in catches for two years.
Behind a screen,
across the middle,
Cutt to defenses
posed a riddle
although, or because,
he was so little.
But now he's playing
second-fiddle
waaaay over there
at the end, can you see?
At the end of the playbook
that ends with Z.
 
Oh no, Romeo! Oh no.
What is he thinking?
I sure don't know.
 
He speaks of dikes
that spring new leaks
but minor tweaks
meekly bespeak
a team that reeks
for a streak of weeks.
 
And that's among
the nicer critiques.
 
Will he start some rookie studs?
Will he bench the aging duds?
Does he really pull the strings?
Does Phil Savage run these things?
 
For all that money that was Lerner's
can't they tackle kick returners?
When they get near the end zones
will they give the ball to Droughns?
Can the defense mount a rush
or will they get ground into mush?
Will the punter hold his job
or lose it to some other slob?
 
This is what I'd like to know.
So, Romeo, let's go, let's go!
Use the flag and clock adeptly.
Get the plays called not ineptly.
Don't scratch a Cutt. Keep it tight.
Run up the gut and left and right.
Don't play it close and hope to win.
Expect it to come from within.
No guts, no glory
or even worse,
another story
written in verse,
offered with some fear of reprisal
from the estate of Theodor Geisel.
 

Ace Davis, in between toddler-raising program activities, maintains the first weblog devoted to the Cleveland Browns.

 


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