A poem about the greatest show on gridiron

The following is a poem written by normal columnist Janae Rempel about the Kansas City Chiefs.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, OhAnd all through the Chiefs crowd

The fan base was stirring,

For a trophy in the house.

The stockings were hung

By the chimney by Ware,

In hopes that another win

Soon would be there.

The receivers were ready

All snug in their beds,

While visions of Mahomes

Danced in their heads;

And Pat with his ketchup,

And Hill with his speed,

Were the perfect combination

To give us the lead.

Then down the sideline

There arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch

To see what was the matter.

Away toward the end zone

Tyreek flew like a flash,

He tore across the turf

And caught Patrick’s pass.

The touchdown reception

Of the laser-quick throw

Gave a reason for cheering

To Chiefs Kingdom to echo.

When what to my wondering

Eyes did appear,

But a top-ranked tight end

Leading the cheer.

With a shake of the hips

So lively and quick,

I knew in a moment

We’d again move the sticks.

More rapid than Eagles

His teammates they came,

Kelce danced, and shouted,

And called them by name:

“Now, Williams! Now, Ware!

Now, Watkins and Fisher!

On, Schwartz! On, Morse!

On, Hill and Mahomes!

To the top of the west!

To the top of the AFC!

Now dash away! Dash away!

Dash away, all!”

As teams that before

The Super Bowl know,

All phases must be sound

When they meet with a foe.

So on to the playoffs

The Chiefs they all flew,

With an offense full of weapons,

And Andy Reid, too—

And then, in a twinkling,

I heard on the radio

Mitch Holthus’ call,

Of Hill’s touchdown show.

As I drew in my head,

And turned toward the sound,

Down the sideline Andy Reid

Came with a bound.

He was dressed all in red

From his head to his foot,

And his mustache was groomed

Down to the root;

A bundle of plays

He had on his sheet,

And he looked like Saint Nick

Eating KC barbecue meat.

His eyes—how they twinkled!

His dimples, how merry!

As he stood on the sideline

And celebrated with Berry.

The Chiefs’ next scoring drive

Was drawn up for Mahomes,

And the plays on Reid’s sheet

Were full of Xs and Os.

The O-line blocked well,

As Hill cut back to his right,

Defenders they circled

But Tyreek sprinted away out of sight.

A smile lit Reid’s face,

As he watched in delight.

Tyreek’s just too fast,

Like the speed of light.

A wink of Reid’s eye

And a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know

I had nothing but the defense to dread;

Speaking highly of his quarterback,

He went back to his book,

To draw up another play;

Then turned around to look.

And laying his eyes

On Patrick Mahomes,

He gave a slight nod,

To let his QB lead the show.

Mahomes sprang to the line

To his team gave a whistle,

And down the field they all flew

On first down, with no issue.

I heard Reid exclaim

As his team played with Atlanta in sight-

“Merry Christmas to all

And to all a good night!”

Janae Rempel writes Marion Sports and is a columnist for the Hillsboro Free Press.

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