Posts are going to be coming pretty fast an furious, as a I have a backlog of stuffs I want to cram down the internets to you, my valued reader. Oh, let's be generous, readerS. Continuing my series of Posts I Made To My Work Bocce News Site Thing.
The outlook was pretty dismal for the Team Fourteen that day:
The emails were pretty virulent, with trashtalk in the fray.
And then when Team Sixteen started rolling points, and TF losing same,
A deathly quiet dropped upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling effort came from the team, under great duress
They clung to hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only we could win, there would be more tit for tat,
Our flamewars we'd pummel them with, like an enforcer with a bat.
But power was their enemy, and likewise was their aim,
And the former was never laggin, and the latter never came;
So upon that stricken bocce team dire fatalism stalked,
For every time they went up to play their skill would only balk.
Oh, somewhere in our UBC the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere people laugh, and somewhere children shout;
But there's no joy up in Brock Hall - Team Fourteen has struck out.