The Greatest Fantasy Football Poem EVER

Written by the commissioner of the Pearce Fantasy League (best fantasy league on earth) and posted to our league page. This is really top-notch poetry. I was literally in awe after reading it. Even if you don’t understand all the inside jokes, you have to appreciate the wording.

Good work, Dave. You’re my hero.

(FYI: This entire poem is made even better by the fact that I’m one of the two teams competing in the Pearce Bowl for the PFL championship.)

‘Twas the night before Pearce Bowl, when all through the league
All the players and teams had combat fatigue;

The playoffs were done, and two teams remain,
One with a dog killer, and one called Worst Name;

Jordan and Michael would shed blood sweat and tears,
But it’s for third place, so nobody cares;

And Rex with his Hit Men, and I with my clique,
Are duking it out for the number one pick.

When down in the Loser Bowl, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my throne to see what was the matter.

Away to the Losers I flew like a flash,
Ran right past Team CHolt and Pod and his stash.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature man, who jumps like a deer,

With a rapist QB, who thinks he’s Don Juan,
I knew in a moment it must be JamesOn.

More rapid than virgins his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Harvin! now, Heap! now, Hakeem and Deion!
On, Jacobs! on Jackson! on, Ben and LeSean!

To the top of the league! to the top of it all!
I’m so damn good! I’ll never fall!”

The rest of the league looked down at JamesOn,
“You lost to Jeff and the Rex, your team is a yawn.”

So JamsOn responded, “It’s all about Luck!”
“I’d’ve won 9 of 10 against Matt and the Chuck!”

And then, in a twinkling, I heard up above,
It was Oracle Pete, who we all know and love.

As he gathered his thoughts, without using good grammar,
We waited for Pete, to go on his stammer.

He was primed for success, to win all of his games,
With so many picks, he got all the big names;

Making trades left and right, he thought he’d be rich,
Turns out his team sucks – and karma’s a bitch.

Now left playing for 5th, against Stacey and Jon,
He’s shown that the Oracle sometimes is wrong.

But back to the matter we have on our hand,
It’s Alex vs. Drew for the best in the land;

It’s the trio of Eagles vs. Manning and Bowe,
They’re playing for pride, but mostly the dough;

This weekend wraps up such a memorable season,
But I look forward to next year, with very good reason.

Four keepers are coming, and who knows what will be;
The only safe bet, is JamesOn being unlucky.

May the best team prevail, in one final fight,
Happy Pearce Bowl to all! and to all a good-night.

5 thoughts on “The Greatest Fantasy Football Poem EVER”

  1. I hope getting so close to winning the PFL only to fall short isn’t going to send you into a downwardly depressed spiral. Wait… I almost forgot, you should be used to it by now. Yea, you’ll be fine.

  2. And when I say “short” it is a pun in reference to my height…because I am in fact very “short.”

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