Jersey Devil
03-10-2001, 11:50 AM
My good friend D. Whitaker, who runs a 76ers fan website, recently wrote a poem about the Answer's career that I thought was a really good read. Therefore, I've decided to repost it on the board. Feel free to comment if you wish.
A Poem: A Star is Born
Once upon a time,
Barely 10 years ago,
When Barkley was traded,
Like Big "Mo", Like little "mo"
From Ruland, Lang, Payne, and Wright,
to Shackleford, Bradley and Spoon,
Year after year,
The Sixers would swoon.
When Croce took over
this franchise was ****ty,
Just Eighteen wins,
An embarassment to the City
But down in D.C.
from the slums of VA,
Donning Hoya Blue,
was a kid who could play.
They called him a jailbird
They called him a thug
They treated him like a stain
on your living room rug.
Through slander and insult
his confidence never shaken.
With the first pick in the draft,
The Answer was taken.
They Questioned the Answer,
From his friends to his clothes,
His jewelry, his dribble,
His Bentley, his legal woes.
He came in the league,
And took it by storm,
Broke records by Wilt,
and challenged the norm.
They compared him to Isiah
They compared him to Archibald.
But Back in the day,
"Bubba Chuck" he was called.
They called him too flashy
for his own good.
In his mind, he took over
when no one else would.
Losing was painful,
Torturous and sad.
My, my, could the Sixers
really be this bad?
A year had gone by which saw
players come and players go.
Yet the Rookie of the Year
was still running the show.
Was he point guard?
Or was he a 2?
What, oh what,
was Coach Brown to do?
Even though deep down
we knew winning was most important,
Still we all had to rejoice
the night he crossed over Jordan.
Catching hell from coach Brown
For not playing the right way.
Critics were ripping young Allen,
Every night, every day.
Towards the end of the year,
a light could be seen
At the end of the tunnel,
where the pastures were green.
Winning had become
not a foreign idea,
But a sliver of solace
in a tumultuous year.
After the strike,
they assembled a team
to compliment their star
And revive a dream.
They moved him to 2,
even though he was small
Yet young Allen said nothing,
he just wanted to ball.
They played all out,
took the league by surprise.
They demolished the Lakers
and opened some eyes.
The City was proud,
The building was loud,
Still the ghost of recent past
Hovered like a cloud.
As the season wore on,
How sweet is was to finally see
Fans chanting in unison:
M-V-P!!! M-V-P!!!
A Poem: A Star is Born
Once upon a time,
Barely 10 years ago,
When Barkley was traded,
Like Big "Mo", Like little "mo"
From Ruland, Lang, Payne, and Wright,
to Shackleford, Bradley and Spoon,
Year after year,
The Sixers would swoon.
When Croce took over
this franchise was ****ty,
Just Eighteen wins,
An embarassment to the City
But down in D.C.
from the slums of VA,
Donning Hoya Blue,
was a kid who could play.
They called him a jailbird
They called him a thug
They treated him like a stain
on your living room rug.
Through slander and insult
his confidence never shaken.
With the first pick in the draft,
The Answer was taken.
They Questioned the Answer,
From his friends to his clothes,
His jewelry, his dribble,
His Bentley, his legal woes.
He came in the league,
And took it by storm,
Broke records by Wilt,
and challenged the norm.
They compared him to Isiah
They compared him to Archibald.
But Back in the day,
"Bubba Chuck" he was called.
They called him too flashy
for his own good.
In his mind, he took over
when no one else would.
Losing was painful,
Torturous and sad.
My, my, could the Sixers
really be this bad?
A year had gone by which saw
players come and players go.
Yet the Rookie of the Year
was still running the show.
Was he point guard?
Or was he a 2?
What, oh what,
was Coach Brown to do?
Even though deep down
we knew winning was most important,
Still we all had to rejoice
the night he crossed over Jordan.
Catching hell from coach Brown
For not playing the right way.
Critics were ripping young Allen,
Every night, every day.
Towards the end of the year,
a light could be seen
At the end of the tunnel,
where the pastures were green.
Winning had become
not a foreign idea,
But a sliver of solace
in a tumultuous year.
After the strike,
they assembled a team
to compliment their star
And revive a dream.
They moved him to 2,
even though he was small
Yet young Allen said nothing,
he just wanted to ball.
They played all out,
took the league by surprise.
They demolished the Lakers
and opened some eyes.
The City was proud,
The building was loud,
Still the ghost of recent past
Hovered like a cloud.
As the season wore on,
How sweet is was to finally see
Fans chanting in unison:
M-V-P!!! M-V-P!!!