Cheaty at the Nat(ional Football League)


The coach and staff would remain, even with sanctions on the way. 
So what if McKnight drove the ride, baby mama did the same, 
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game. 

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest 
Clung to hope that a candlelight vigil would settle the unrest; 
They thought if only Cheaty would remain, yes, stick around --
SC'd put up extra money;  It's Cheaty kind of town.

But sanctions dogged ol' Cheaty, as did pending depositions. 
As former players payouts only fed the suppositions; 
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat. 
For there seemed but little chance of keeping Cheaty where he's at. 
But without total control, the process seemed to stall, 
There seemed some hope, he might just stay, he had to have it all; 
And when the dust had lifted, and he saw what occurred, 
There was Cheaty uncommitted, this process was absurd.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell; 
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; 
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, 
For Cheaty, mighty Cheaty, was denying this and that.

There was ease in Cheaty's manner as he dodged the questions quickly, 
There was arrogance in Cheaty's bearing and a smile that was quite sickly. 
And when, responding to the pleas, he still would not commit, 
Though few who really knew him thought he really gave a shit.

Ten thousand opinions were laid out as he met with Tod Leiweke; 
Certainly the coach would stay, he'd always been quite picky. 
All this while the AD tried to right his listing ship, 
But defiance gleamed in Cheaty's eye, a sneer curled Cheaty's lip.

And then the media spun like hell, a stench filled the air, 
And Cheaty stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. 
Close by recruits began to reconsider with much speed --
"Matt Barkley wept, and wept some more, then into his pants peed.

From the blogs, bleak with people, there went up a muffled roar, 
Like the beating of the storm waves on a worn and distant shore. 
"Kill him! Kill Mike Garrett!" posted someone online, 
And it's likely they'd have done so him had not Cheaty raised his hand.

With a smile of Thugville charity great Cheaty visage shone; 
He stilled the rising tumult; he simply said "fight on"; 
He signaled to the media and once more the theories flew; 
But Cheaty still ignored it, these rumors would be eschewed."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered fraud; 
But one scornful look from Cheaty and the audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, his demeanor under strain, 
They knew that Cheaty wouldn't answer that call from the NFL again.

The sneer is gone from Cheaty's lip, his teeth are clinched in hate; 
Be damned, oh NCAA, your charges are plain fake. 
And now the Seahawks will fulfill the Rooney Clause, and next, 
The air is shortly shattered by the force of Cheaty's text.

Oh! somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright; 
The band is playing somewhere and somewhere hearts are light, 
And somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children shout; 
But there is no joy in Thugville -- mighty Cheaty has bugged out.

<em>This is a FanPost and does not necessarily reflect the views of BruinsNation's (BN) editors. It does reflect the views of this particular fan though, which is as important as the views of BN's editors.</em>

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