The Charge of the Light Brigade
Apologies to Alfred, Lord Tennyson
1
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Shame
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the balls!" he said:
Into the valley of Shame
Rode the six hundred.
2
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was the Commish dismay'd?
Not tho' the media knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to spread the lie:
Into the valley of Shame
Rode the six hundred.
3
Science to right of them,
Science to left of them,
Science in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with facts told well,
Boldly they rode and fell,
Into the jaws of Shame,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
4
Flash'd all their Twitters bare,
Flash'd as they went on air,
Blaming the Patriots there,
Charging a team, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the PSI-smoke
Ideal Gas Law they broke;
Brady and Belichick
Reel'd from Wells Report stroke
Suspend'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
5
Florio to right of them,
Stradley to left of them,
Jenkins behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Berman with the law to tell,
"Settle, Brady and NFL!"
Turn'd away from Goodell,
Came thro' the jaws of Shame
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
6
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Vacate the charge they made,
Forget the Light Brigade,
Ignoble six hundred.