Thank you. I've written myself a little poem in honor of the occasion. It goes like this ...
Quote:
I once knew an owner named Shi-inn
Part time he liked my town once he was in.
But he gave up the quest, he packed up and left
The lease being laden with things anti-theft.
Then came along Professional B-C.
"We'll stay," said the club, "if you'll po-ny
An arena for us all shiny new and then only to you,
Seattle, we'll be undyingly faithful and true."
"Nix," said Van Dyk with his plan to stop scams,
And voters they bleated, "Chris, yo' 'da man!"
They called our mayor "hick," that'd be our main man the Mick,
As we said, "Yes!" to his own slick little trick.
And so today or tomorrow
We'll not need to borrow
From ungrateful cajuns no more and
Having finally wiped all their spit from our door.
Today is this pup's sixty and fifth and
Only one gift I want – the Sonics in Ford and forthwith.
Pechman presides and today she decides
If she be brilliant and bold and rules on my side.
I'm hoping she will at 6 and that's PM
As Nichols and Slade among them
Moan, "Poor me, we're not blessed" –
That being when my town, and not theirs, is possessed.
Guilt we don't vent – you made your own esteem dent –
To the tune of seventy-five – that's seven-five – percent.
So, let go my team, yes my city's own team.
You followed the Dyk-Man when he screamed.
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Well, rhyme, meter and syntax are not what I'd hoped for. Maybe it would just be better to say, "We win, you lose. Gimmie my team and be quick about it!"