Twas the night before game day, one sure to remember
for all of the fans around Charlotte and Denver;
The jerseys were hung in their lockers with care
In hopes Newton and Manning soon would be there.
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of glory danced in their heads;
The coaches were sleeping, the best sleep in days,
clutching their pillows, and first fifteen plays;
The gameplan was ready, the setting was perfect,
No Brady, No Wilson... and no Vontaze Burfict.
When out on the field, there arose such a clatter,
the groundsman awoke to see what was the matter;
The lights were all on with his crew on their toes,
Because some moron had painted both end zones "Broncos";
The morning was nearing, the painting just finished,
and no one could tell that the field had been blemished;
Fans were arriving and tailgating in droves,
showing their colors on car flags and clothes;
Grills were afire, and burgers were cooking,
and I stole a beer when no one was looking;
We ate so much food, it's a shock no one died,
since everything was cheesy, battered, and fried.
And the wings, oh the wings, man they were just killer,
like a pick six by Kuechly or a sack by Von Miller.
The nachos were good, we said with a quip,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
The busses of players and coaches were here!
A figure stepped out, one from old Santa Clara,
Excited but stern, it was coach Ron Rivera!
More rapid than Panthers his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Stewart! now, Tolbert! now Olsen and Ealy!
On, Norman! on, Nortman! on, Norwell and Kuechly!
But do you recallll.... the most famous player... of alllllllll?
Newton the dabbin' Q.B...
Had a very shiny smile.
And if you've never saw it...
You can see it for a mile.
All of the network pundits...
Used to laugh and call him names.
They never thought Cam Newton...
Would win any playoff games!
Then the Cardinals came to town... and Jerry came to say...
Newton with your smile so bright, won't you win this game tonight?
Then all the pundits loved him... as they shouted out with glee... yipee!
Newton the dabbin' Q.B... you'll go down in history!
He stepped off the bus, and dabbed to a cheer,
but the spotlight shortlived, the Broncos were here!
Here Miller, there Sanders, then Roby and Ware,
Off Thomas, Off Kilgo, but Tebow's not there!
And then came the Sheriff, to cameras a shootin'
He was dressed to the nines, and better than Newton.
No leggings, no foxtails, no suit pants with sneakers,
He'd just beat up Brady, and his gaggle of cheaters.
Just a good Nawlins' boy, not meaning no harm,
with an outstanding forehead, and good southern charm.
He and Newton were different, but somehow the same,
they firmly shook hands, and wished luck for the game.
The moment drew closer, the lights brightly shined,
And Marshawn was there so he wouldn't get fined.
The teams took the field to fire and singing,
The fighter jets zoomed and ears started ringing.
The kickoff was blasted back into the crowd,
and this is the moment I leave you at now...
I can't tell the future, but that would be nifty,
Because I'd bet all my money, on Super Bowl Fifty.