Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Twas The Week Before The Playoffs (Midget Spotting at the Q)
My plan was to start off the new year with a serious post about living life to the fullest and making the most of the hand you were dealt. I was going to spiel on about using the new year as an opportunity to start over with a clean slate and reevaluate what’s really important in life. I was then going to philosophize about the human condition and how we are defined not by our internal selves but by the interactions we have with our fellow human beings… but then I spotted this little bugger at the Chargers game and the post went in a completely different direction. My wife often asks me “What’s wrong with you?” To which my standard response is “Many things.” See for yourself:
Twas the Week Before the Playoffs (Midget Spotting at the Q)
Twas the week before the playoffs, when all through the Q,
Charger fans were abuzz, adorned in yellow and blue.
Their jerseys were pressed and worn with great care,
In hopes that more touchdowns soon would be there.
Most fans were boozed up, some even on meds,
While visions of the Superbowl danced in their heads.
My son feeling restless, and I out of beer,
Had just left our seats to go spread some cheer.
We ran into some friends and had some quick chatter,
My son tugged my sleeve, I asked what was the matter.
He tried to be subtle as he motioned to the right,
He smiled a wry smile, tried to contain his delight.
I gazed to the left to see what could be there,
My interest was piqued but I tried not to stare.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature fan in full Chargers gear.
He was dressed all in blue, from his foot to his chest,
His jersey was tiny and his shoes showed true zest.
The normal sized beer in his hand was first rate,
I wondered if he sleeps in a bed or a crate?
His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
If he sang and he danced I would pay for that show.
Hi legs were so short and his feet were so small,
His diminutive stature made me feel quite tall.
He had a broad face and an ample midsection,
Do normal sized chicks give him an erection?
He was stumpy and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He chugged down his beer, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, and striking a pose.
He sprang to the aisle way, to his boys gave a scream,
And away they all ran to go cheer for our team.
And I heard him exclaim in his high midget voice,
"When the Bolts win the Superbowl we will rejoice!"