A poem for the Immaculate Reception

THE FEAST OF THE IMMACULATE RECEPTION (A F.O.T.I.R. POEM)

‘Twas two days before Christmas
And across from the Point
A pallor of sadness
Spread over the joint
That miscreant Stabler
Had bootlegged it home
Down the port sideline
Into the end zone
The Stillers were down
to their very last seconds
Hoping to pull something
out of their rectums
When suddenly out of the backfield ran
Big 32 and his two golden hands
The ball bounced off someone
-and it don’t matter who-
Franco caught cleanly
The Raiders boo hooed
He scampered and stiffarmed
His way down the grass
Phil Villapiano was knocked on his ass
John Madden cried foul
But that’s not my perception
Have a joyous FEAST OF THE IMMACULATE RECEPTION!


Happy FOTIR everyone!

 

I was there, sort of. Punk ass H.S. kid playing in the tunnels with friends when it happened. We heard the roar but couldn't get back to the stands.

 

I had a learner’s permit but no license yet. Took my mother somewhere and was listening to the game on the car radio. TV was blacked out locally. The announcer, Jack Fleming I believe, wasn’t sure what happened. It seemed like it took forever to get it sorted out.
We were floating on air for a week. Then, the Steelers lost to the Phins, en route to their undefeated untied season. And shortly after, we lost Roberto…..