To a Head Coach Leaving Early

With apologies to A.E. Housman

The time you won this town the game
We cheered your skills and praised your name;
Painted men stood cheering by,
And owner Ralph said you're his guy.

To-day, the road all true fans come,
Shoulder-high we send you home,
Once your family's settled down,
We'll pack a truck that's leaving town.

Smart lad, pink slip sends you away
From fields where All-Pros would not play,
And while resentment here did grow
Now you are free from shock jock shows.

Your sunglasses could never shield
Embarrassments upon the field,
Tho' angry shouts replaced the cheers,
Now media you need not fear:

No more must you withstand the rout
With lads whose contracts soon run out,
And DBs who were oft outran;
Coordinators lacking plans.

So go, the echoes long have faded,
Your effigy no more paraded,
Once your contract's been torn up
You may pursue the North's Grey Cup!

And past your New Era-capped head
We'll run to flog Perry instead,
And hope to hear within the hour
A long-term contract with Bill Cowher.