... or, in the proper vernacular, "poems."
Yes, it's Valentine's Day again, and you know what that means: It's time once more for all real men to do their manly duty. So get out there, boys! Buy the flowers! Buy the candy! Buy the gooshy cards expressing love and eternal devotion in iambic pentameter!
And for the Blob?
It's rhymin' time!
"Aw, gee, Mr. Blob," you're saying now. "Do we hafta?"
Yes, you hafta. Let us proceed, shall we?
* The Daytona 500 appears tomorrow like the first robin of spring, with a hoot and a holler and three 19-car pileups in the last ten laps. William Byron has won the last two Great American Races, but will he three-peat? Will Denny Hamlin win his fourth? Will Kyle Busch become the first polesitter to win since Clyde "The Glide" McBride back in 19-ought-6?
Beats me. But here's a poime about it:
Daytona, Daytona,
To you we're true blue.
All those Kyles, and Ryans, and ol' Bubba -- him, too.
Look out! It's Chastain!
Driving just like a fool.
Put Chris Bell in the wall.
Man, that guy is a tool.
* The NBA All-Star Weekend kicked off last night with the Rising Stars games, and Team Vince (Carter) won the whole shebang on a free throw by VJ Edgecombe with a second to play. Afterward VJ made a big deal about how hard everyone played, a revealing bit of pushback to the largely accurate narrative that everyone goes through the motions in these All-Star games, which is why the final score is always eleventy-hundred thirty-seven to eleventy-hundred twelve.
Hence, a poime:
All hail to the All-Stars,
Playing wild and free.
Running and jumping,
And diving with glee.
Oh, wait.
That's just Wemby,
Taking a knee.
* The Winter Olympics continue to astound and amaze, even if some of the skaters and skiers and even curlers have been accused of cheating. Not so the U.S. women's hockey team, however, who steamrolled Italy 6-0 yesterday in their seemingly inexorable march to the gold medal.
A rhyme in tribute ...
Poor Italy lies flattened,
Like a pancake sans jelly.
They could not have won
E'en with Wayne Gretz-anelli.
* And speaking of the Winter Games ...
A moment of stunned silence for U.S. phenom Illia Malinin, a favorite to win the gold in men's figure skating. Alas, Malinin flubbed his dub big time, falling twice in his long program and finishing eighth after leading going into it.
Hence this lament:
Oh, Illia, oh, Illia,
What a horrible fate.
No quads in the finals,
And your Salchows weren't great.
And one last detail,
We are sad to report:
Your grand triple axel
Was two axels too short.
* And last but not least ...
Pitchers and catchers reported to spring training this week.
Which means the Blob gets to recycle its annual poime about the glories of returning baseball, with a modification or two:
Baseball is back!
And my thoughts are all radical.
Could this be the year
Pittsburgh's Cruds turn piratical?
And the reply:
Some numbskull just asked
If his Pirates would win.
To which we all say,
"Good lord, is he dim!"
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.
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