The Mother BLEEPing Falcons Hero by Jake O'Neill

RATED ATL-MA FOR FOUL LANGUAGE

 

He acts kinda different different times of the year

Every fall he acts the same

For however long football seasons here

Falcons Fan, know thy name

 

He owns a handful of historic jerseys

Some people call him cursed

The name on the front is all that matters

It’s already lived through the worst.

 

He don’t much care for fantasy football

And sportscenter makes him sick

He says these bastards don’t know BLEEP

And calls em all dumb pricks

 

He makes a pilgrimage every other week

But he ain’t there to bear no witness

He knows there’ll be folks think he’s some kind of freak

But in the Dome he’s strictly business.

 

Hes in the game as much

As anyone that’s on the field

This is his home turf

And so he cannot yield.

 

If he aint screamin or clappin

His head is in his hands

Swears anything can happen

“We can win this!” from the stands

 

He’s angered and embarrassed

By empty seats and other teams fans

He’ll give no quarter to these yankee invadahs

This is our land

 

Poor boy dies on every play

Reborn every huddle

Refusing forever to be turned away

He lives for the struggle

 

His head is pounding

And his voice is long gone

Still screamin’ like fury

“Let’s go boys, come on”

 

He only ever asks “Just one more time.”

But he’ll ask again in a minute

And til it’s all over “Just one more time…”

He’s with his team and they’re in it.

 

He’ll boo almost anything

But never his own guys

Don’t have to ask him if we lost

He’ll tell ya with his eyes

 

He swears the refs and announcers conspire

Have to beat em in every game

“Anyone who can’t see it’s blind or a liar.”

His excuses are always the same.

 

The boys fought hard he always says

Cept for days when he just can’t

Those game are the ones he’ll just forget

Soon as he lets out that real long rant

 

He checks his message board

Knowin damn well what he’ll find

Reads the Ryan’s PowerBLEEP In Game Thread

Tries not to lose his mind.

 

Watch the press conference get pissed at reporters

Look for his boys to lead

He listens to the coach and takes his orders

And thinks what all we need

 

Monday – Tuesdays are doom

Wednesday – Thursday is death

Friday rolls around

He starts to catch his breath

 

By the weekend it’s all over

It’s pregame from here on out

By Sunday mornin’

Man there aint any doubt

 

The Falcons will come to play

Just hope we don’t hurt anyone

Wrong shirt? So sorry, still have to pay

60 minutes there’s no where to run

 

If season ends early things still look up

Finally they’re running this right

TD and Mr. Blanks know just what to do

CMS has the ship in his sights

 

Players’ll come and players’ll go

He remembers most em all

He don’t hold grudges if you give it your best

Has a way to toast em all

 

He believes in the rookies to his very bone

So proud when they make plays

Time comes he accepts their need to roam

And humbly, he parts ways

 

Theres a few folks he hates for the way they did us

Let em know when they come through

But there’s so many more he was proud to have with us

almost feels bad they get the same boos.

 

He’s a recovering rape victim

All thanks to Michael Vick

Now they’re saying he’s oh so courageous

He’s still sayin’ Man, what a dick.

 

He’s a sad and hopeful, paranoid fool

He’ll go through it all again

“Any Given Sunday” is every Sunday’s rule

Just fight em for every inch.

 

There’s one bloody weekend he don’t often care for

That’s the last of every year.

The teams that are playin aint the team he’s there for

Can’t bring himself to cheer.

 

“This team’s so close”

He’s said that one before.

After all the BLEEP he’s been through

This time he wants it more

 

But now everybody’s been locked out

Pretty sure the world is ending

Did he really ever have faith

Or was he just pretending.

But oh he must believe

He believes GO Falcons GO

Moment of weakness, so what?

He’s the Mother BLEEPing Falcons Hero