Holiday jeer
Drew Brees sure can throw 'em. So, in his honor, here's a poem!
Larry French/Getty ImagesThese fans appreciate what Drew Brees has done for the Saints franchise.This column appears in the January 11 issue of ESPN The Magazine.
In New Orleans town
The fans hit their knees,
Thanking good heaven
For a Saint named Brees.
Dozens of QBs
All tried and all failed
To do what dear Drew
Has nearly nailed:
Take the Suff'rin Saints
Out of their black hole
And drop them into
A real Super Bowl.
Misfits, scatter arms,
Collections of bums --
Only good for selling
Wheelbarrows of Tums.
For 42 years
They whiffed at a ring.
Try to name them all?
Sure, but this might sting:
One owned a Heisman.
His name was Wuerffel.
But once he turned pro,
He was just err-ful.
One called Aaron Brooks
Perfected the miss;
One was named Everett
(Please, don't call him Chris).
Three Bobbys, two Todds,
Three Billys, one Jake,
Two Tommys, one Tim,
A Guido, a Snake.
Nino Ninowski
Made the O a no;
Baton Rouge fans were
Glad to see him geaux.
A Rebel named Archie,
Victim of fate's whim.
His two sons made it --
Sadly, never him.
They came and they went:
Wilsons -- Dave and Wade --
A guy named Cipa,
A stiff named Fourcade.
Hobert, Tolliver
(Both were Billy Joes),
Guys who got the rock
Then stood there and froze.
Cuozzo and Bob Scott
Were better off sat;
Nussmeier and Blake
Made you say, "Who dat?"
One, Bobby Douglass,
Was so not money
(But he did marry
A Playboy bunny).
There was Edd Hargett,
Yes, spelled with two D's.
That's grading too high;
He wore lead booties.
Five of them made it
To Bowls with others:
Stabler and Collins
(A pox on their mothers).
Nice guy Gary Wood,
Stand-up dude Mike Buck.
Wood? Not very good.
Buck? Fond of the duck.
Jake's a good Panther
(Last name of Delhomme).
He stunk as a Saint.
Guess they didn't know'm.
Bobby "Eh-bear"
Wasn't all that great.
The pass rush would come,
And he'd hibernate.
One guy, Karl Sweetan,
Taught Plimpton to play.
Flick called Paper Lion
(We'd take George, all day).
The U sent to town
Fella named Walsh, Steve.
By the third quarter
You'd get up and leave.
The Aints had more busts
Than Walgreens has meds.
Small wonder fans watched
With bags on their heads.
But now good times roll
To all Cajuns' glee
(God forbid Drew Brees
Takes free agency).
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Be sure to check out Rick's latest project, "Go Fish."
- 11-time National Sportswriter of the Year
- Author of "Sports from Hell: My Two-Year Search for the World's Dumbest Competition"
- Finalist 2011 Thurber Prize for Humor
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RICK REILLY, 52, has been voted National Sportswriter of the Year 11 times. His new book -- out May 4, 2010 -- is called "Sports From Hell: My Two-year Search for the World's Dumbest Competition." It's the account of his search for the dumbest sport in the world.
Not to give anything away, but a good bet would be either Ferret Legging or the World Sauna Championships. It also includes embarrassing attempts by Reilly to try Nude Bicycle Racing, Zorbing, Chess Boxing, Extreme Ironing, the World Rock Paper Scissors Championships and an unfortunate week on a women's pro football team.
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