There once was a seven foot stiff As white as a white flag and he'd whiff Shot after shot Til finally old Stotts Got his hands on 2 brand new "What ifs"
There once was a girl from the Atlantic Whose husband liked to cause panic In great disgust She threw him under the bus Because he became a Laker Fanatic.
It's a story as old as the sea of what could have been or could be He could shoot, could he guard? He was never fantastic His new home is now at the Atlantic
Story of the man who dressed as an elf All summer spent to find his true self Neverending tragedy At least he had a trophy Fan Fest MVP still sitting on his shelf
This tale speaks of a fan of the Blazers Only him knew the truly best players The fifteen men, they tantalize Neil and Terry just didn't realize They cut Briscoe, season over.
The Nuggets were certainly fleeced When we dealt for the Bosnian Beast Now healthy and trim We're excited for him To face other teams' centers, and feast.
The league swings from the jocks of Golden State The Blazers they say ain’t too great, But with CJ and Dame, Their predictions are lame, Add Nurk and I like our chances, mate.
Why can't you leave Meyers alone Your attack rages me to the bone Such tasteless decorum I may leave the forum Then again he must reap what hes sown
Though his words are long winded And his shot open ended Please leave meyers be Just desist don't you see Hes just not playing well right now
There once was a poster named HCP, Makes fun of the newbies, you see. But it's just his shtick Cause hes full of shit When someone is upset, he feels crappy. The Point Guard is from the Oak Town He's tough and likes to throw down He's from Weber State And he's really great A person, or place or thing is a noun. Meyers, The Leonard, is bad. And his hesitancy makes me real sad. He flexes his arm And shows off his charm The fact he's still here makes me mad.
("The Kaman", 2014, to the cadence of "The Raven") ... since some of you newer folks never had the chance, and with a couple updates: Once, upon a nighttime dreary watching Blazers' bigs get weary, From results of switching silli-ly every pick across the floor "Scrap!" would shout McScribbles as opponents' point guards dribbled While Kaleb's hair would frizzle as fizzled schemes his defense would deplore And as the Talkin' Ball crew scream "Przybilla ain't coming through that door!" We sat, and glared, and nothing more. Coach Stotts recalled, though, last December what he struggled to remember while his defense, like burnt embers, left their scorches on the floor Once it had been like this, that his defense was in crisis And that Mavericks' new Isis, Tyson Chandler, lowered scores That having competent big men helped Dallas earn a vict'ry tour For the first time, evermore. So when GM Neil Olshey, when he had agreed for Portland to pay About $10k each day that Kaman graced a gametime floor called a conf'rence for those to ask, as a journalistic task, and had Chris with him to bask and answer all the hacks and bores "Will he only play when teams like Golden State run up the score?" Quoth Chris Kaman, "Nevermore." Much I marvelled this man ungainly to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being in a presser not acceding to answer just one question more "Shall your play recall to memory wretched days of 'Stony Hands' Magloire? " Quoth Chris Kaman, "Nevermore." Thus it did astonish, and the tone of it admonish This giant's voice abolished hope and with it squashed young Leonard's chore Signed from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his play one burden bore-- Till the dirges of his Hope that Meyers' melancholy bore Of 'Never--nevermore.'" Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Kevin Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the burnished court. "Chris!," Stotts cried, "thy God hath lent me--by the MLE he sent thee Respite--respite and nepenthe from me playing Meyers Leonar_! Will your number hang in Fame above the MODA Center's court? Quoth Chris Kaman, "Nevermore." Be that our sign of parting, Chris Kaman!" Meyers shrieked, upstarting-- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no scraggly beard as token of that lie Olshey has spoken! Leave my contract's terms' unbroken!--quit the team and sign no more! Take thy dagger from my heart, and sign the MLE no more !" Quoth Chris Kaman, "OK, Sure." Then I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To Olshey, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; New trades I saw in him divining, Nurkic and a first combining, Traded for that silver lining Plumlee's high-post "offense" bore, But whose potential was outmatched when Nurk first dunked upon our floor, Nurk shall start, ah, evermore! And now Leonar_, never flitting, still is sitting, STILL is sitting! On the splinter'd end of bench adorning Moda Center's Floor And his eyes have all the scheming of a demon's that is steaming And the spotlight o'er his scheming throws his shadow on the floor; And his soul from out that shadow that cries to mount the floor Shall get minutes--nevermore!
There once was a chubby hispanic Who liked to mow lawns and cause panic. He'd mess with the rookies Some were tough cookies They told him to go fuck a Xanax The archetype point guard, hes clever Lillard's game is truly exciting moreover He plays like a God In the wink of a nod He scores, after the defense, he severs For the last time stop heckling Meyers I know that his game doesn't inspire But, he's worked hard all summer All this derision is a bummer This season he'll set the doubters on fire
The regular season is finally here The first game is in hand, don't fear Though CJs suspended The season isn't upended The Blazers play to win, such is clear
A very weird place, this is true Inhabited by a very strange crew A computer, a talking dog, A guy bragging about his job Welcome to RipCityTwo
This year is a new story Blazers in all their glory Nurk is here all year Kev and Hurd we'll jeer This year no purgatory?
He lost a lot, thiry five at least but still known as that wonderful Bosnean beast Good summer wishes and with Biggie beside sorry my friends, for you no more rebound
There once was a Caleb named Swanigan Who's task was make Meyers a man again So he tossed him aloft Because Butter is soft He didn't even care if he damaged him But Butters he moves like a mannequin So slow he won't get called for travelin' Cuz he moves like a stiff His feet hard to lift Used to like him but can't be a fan again Wish he was skywalkin' like Anakin But he has most of this forum panickin' Cuz he's worthless as fuck And with him we are stuck Damn I wish we had Brian Grant again
There once was a girl from Nantucket. I asked her real nice if she'd suck it. She took a good look. Laughed until she shook. I walked away sad and said fuck it. Wait, Blazers..... Meyers is from ol' Nantucket. His play makes me say oh fuck it. Contract has us hosed. Plays defense eyes closed. Bball IQ of a Muppet
Meyers Leonard surely does suck Don't know why we paid him big bucks To defend his foes, His eyes are kept closed Each time he checks in, I yell, "FUCK!"