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There is no time for sleeping, and there is no time to eat.
There’s only time to chronicle who wins and who gets beat…
Who scores and who gets scored upon, and who ends up a bum,
Who suddenly looks old and beaten up as any drum…
Who comes from out of nowhere to breathe life into a team,
And which club snatches nightmares from what should have been a dream.
You need to know who’s moving on, and who is going home,
And who’s in an arena and who else is in a dome.
You think when you’ve watched hockey that you’ve done your watching time?
Forget it, Mac, there’s basketball teams reaching for their prime…
Teams smart enough to recognize that now is when it matters,
While dumber teams discover that their rosters are in tatters,
Sad victims of the season that’s been going on for months.
A coach who doesn’t understand this timing is a proper dunce,
For if you are not now prepared to give each night your all,
Who cares how many points you scored while playing in the fall?
So, playoffs every night, and that’s a glutton’s share for sure…
A marathon of wins and losses no one could endure
Without the dedication that a true fan brings to bear
Upon the world of games about which we must surely care.
For caring is not crazy. I say that without a doubt.
Without the sports we watch, what would we ever talk about?
And playoffs must compete with the beginning baseball season,
Another roster full of contests giving us a reason
To set aside such trifles as relationships and work.
With all these games before you, you would have to be a jerk
To miss a single minute of an inning in a game,
For what could be more crucial? What could really be less lame
Than games each night, and games each day, and replays all the time,
Analysis between the games, and clichés so sublime
That you can turn the sound off and know just what’s being said,
And you will hear the echoes of those clichés when you’re dead.
This program aired on April 15, 2010. The audio for this program is not available.
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