T’was the week before football, when all through the dorms
No one spoke of the baseball, the Braves no longer close to warm.
The TV was on, streaming full blare,
ESPN has a countdown, “Gameday” was almost there.
My thoughts on pro-ball, now became dead,
Stacks of “College Pick-Em’s” clutter my bed.
My mother was calling, yelling with rage.
“Focus on work and school, you better start acting your age.”
When then from my TV, there rose such a clatter,
The Braves 19 out, their season never mattered.
Then away they were swept, by Sports South in a flash,
They then posed the queerie- who’s got the fastest 40 dash?
We’ll continue our hate, for that team Florida state.
But we’ll ask where is Jameis whose actions irate.
This year he was drafted, in the pros he will play.
Until again he gets in trouble, toting some crab legs away.
Ellison is out, suspended two games,
This is no matter, for our beloved Eagles, can’t be tamed.
Teams overrated, we ask what the hell?
These teams so well graded? They’re from the Big 12?
Saturday with beer goggles, is how I’ll see you.
Watching the tv, and questioning the success of teams like Baylor and TCU.
These preseason ratings, already picked with care.
But in a few weeks we’ll cry, “the schedules aren’t fair!”
Please don’t cry or ask, "What the heck?"
You could be from a school or engineers, just like Georgia Tech.
If I’m wrong – my thoughts please neglect,
But I don’t see an ACC title, for the ole Ramblin’ Wreck.
This also stands true, for Miami's Canes.
The season will start and your hope will then drain.
Your lives will stand as a fable.
Living life outside Miami, in the town Coral Gables.
Flicking pre-saved channels, between ESPN and Fox.
But I’m sorry Carolina, no one really cares about your Game Cocks.
Its almost 9am, I must hear these men talk.
On ESPN Gameday, that show really rocks.
We look at Ole Miss, where they say Hotty Toddy,
But Santa has placed you, on the list labeled naughty.
Right with A&M, you’ve won a couple rounds.
But both teams are anything but National Title Bound.
We'll lay eyes on the TV, silence no chatter.
We’ll be watching the SEC- the conference that matters.
Last year sounds like a hoax, Ohio State winning.
Again they’re a joke, and their losses I’ll be grinning.
Sporting nice jerseys, hoping they’ll bring their team luck.
I just hope that has now worn thin, for the anomaly known as the Ducks.
They’ve achieved some success, for a few years now.
But if they win anymore, it will bring a raise to my brow.
I love the game, but I can still be a hater,
Especially if you have poor taste, calling yourself a Florida Gator.
These stanzas original, you my feel my fire.
Originality doesn't live here- two SEC teams, both called the Tigers.
This poem is short, I’ve run out of rhymes.
Planning my Saturdays, is how I’ve spent all my time.
So I leave you with this, my final few thoughts,
Don’t talk about the tide, or my sister-cousin you’ll have fought.
I guess I’ll be patient, slowly counting the days.
For on Saturday the 5th, Hell is what I will surely raise.
Just sitting here waiting, for a “down set hut.”
So I can watch UGA, catchin’ DEEZ NUTS.
No matter your team,
You have title dreams,
These thoughts were quick to roll,
But I'm just ready for another BCS bowl.
