Twas The Night Before Kickoff

[Collin Fultz]

Twas the night before Kickoff, when all thro' CD
Not a member was posting, not even Chris is me.
The game hints were posted and beaten to death,
While thoughts of a water game made some hold their breath.
The manual, encrypted, had been tried to crack,
But too long a password made it to hard to hack.
Dave in Hawaiian, and Dean in his denim,
Had fired up Q&A, ready for the lawyering venom.
When in the Game Hint thread there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to my computer I flew like a flash,
I opened my browser, logged in in a dash.
The shine from my screen in my old pitch black room,
Made my wife very mad at her now awake groom.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a brand new poster, who said the Game Hint was clear.
With no avatar or photo, his name was so strange,
But an idea he had could bring the game within range.
More rapid than eagles I typed in reply,
"Why should we trust you? Come on, why?"
"I'm Andy! I'm Johnny! I'm Karthik! I'm Paul!
"I'm Beatty! I'm Zondag! I'm Cory, Raul!
"All their experience, it all lies with me!
"Now trust and follow along and you'll see!"
As soon as I trusted, it began to make sense;
I wondered immediately, how I could be so dense.
So down into his post, I began to digest,
This new poster was different than all of the rest.
And then in a twinkling, I figured it out,
Finally I knew what his name was about.
In my head the answer began to spin round,
The grail of the Game Hint, soon would be found.
He described a game so unique to behold,
No past robot would fit in the mold.
"An arm?" I asked, so young and naïve.
"Patience, young one. And soon you'll believe."
His typing was quick; he misspelled not a word,
And grammar so good, it was nearly absurd.
His lab coat had buttons, 500 or so,
And the hair of his head was as white as the snow.
He spoke of a game where scoring is high,
Many different ways for your points to multiply.
I asked about drivetrains, still yearning for more,
Hoping specifics from his mouth would pour.
"No water," says he, "put that thought away."
"Ideally, with this game, young and old teams can play."
"The crab drive," I say, "will it come in handy?"
In my back of my head, hoping we had a dandy.
But his posting had stopped, I had gone on to far,
Too eager, was I, to grab hold of his star.
"One more post I will leave, but this one is it.
"Have no fear in this game, not even one bit.
"For even the rookies can play like the vets
"And on Einstein this year, there are no sure bets."
And I read in his post, ere he logged off that night,
"Happy Kickoff to all, and to all a good night."