So in case you've been living under a rock, The Sounders have a new commentator: Arlo White. Who is British and will do a fantastic job.
But what this means is that we no longer have Seattle's own Kevin Calabro. Which is kind of sad. Because of all the people who were screwed by Clay Bennett and his band of merry Oklahoma trolls (or is it ogres? I always confuse my fairy tale villians), Kevin ranks right up there at the top in screwed-ness. And this interview with TNT's Don Ruiz just cemented my thoughts on this, and also cemented my thoughts on what a class act Calabro is.
So I was going to write up a poem for our Kevin to give him a bit of encouragement through this difficult time. Kind of like I did for our guys who got waived last season. (You need to click on the link. Because when it comes to Seattle Offside poetry? I outdid myself on this one. Truly.)
But what happened was, I got started on a poem where the opening stanza went something like this:
Of those who were screwed
by that Clay Bennett dude
Calabro ranked right at the top
And then I was going to continue on about a Seattle legacy, and how we'd been lucky to have him for our inaugural year, and how we wished him wonderful things in life.
I had the best intentions of finishing, except that I got distracted by my spam comments. Specifically, I got distracted by this comment on my "Falling Iguanas" post:
Health and safety have to constantly be quantity a single. It is just as well horrible that now and again it isnt the case.
Um...yeah. Exactly. And the best part of all? It linked to a website on hardhat safety. Hardhats which could have prevented any falling iguana trauma before it happened.
So my already-ADD brain got distracted by wondering which words, precisely, triggered this spam comment. My belief? These: "...killed by a falling..."
(This is a test. If I get a similar comment in the spam bin for this post? I totally nailed it. Otherwise it was the word "iguana." Which, as everyone who gave any thought to the Combine knows, should automatically trigger everyone's concern about needing hardhats.)
But what this means is... Well...dammit! My fickle poetic inspiration has now deserted me and I will NEVER finish that Kevin Calabro poem.
I am sorry, Kevin. You're a class act. I may not have been able to go all Robbie Burns on you, but I genuinely wish you the best of luck in everything you pursue with the rest of your life.
Hugs from Seattle Offside.