R.I.P., San Diego Chargers – An Ode by Patty Mooney
Chargers Bolted Outta Town
It was a gloomy day in January of 2017 when San Diego Chargers bolted town with their Chief Dean.
Now, the Spanoses were filthy rich, packing two billion clams, but they skipped town to Carson to piggyback the Rams.
They didn’t wave or kiss their fans goodbye as their Jets soared away, like an Eagle or a Seahawk, from the egg-throwing fray.
After 55 years in town how could they Steel away? All the leaves were Brown on such a cloudy day.
And what forced these Buccaneers, these cheapskates to jump ship? Mission Valley Qualcomm Stadium was no longer hip.
They wanted to build a “convadium” downtown. But the rise of Bills and loss of tailgates made the people frown.
Dean aka “Snidely Whiplash”
Dean rode the City Council like a Cowboy breaks a Colt. He tried to raid the city’s coffers like a Giant dolt.
As their tears poured down, a winter storm, San Diego said goodbye, lighting Chargers gear on fire, the flames rising to the sky.
Sad and hurt and angry, fans shouted to the news: “Dean, that Lion bastard! We can’t bear his Cardinal abuse.”
“Slinking off like a Jaguar or a Panther in the night, he’s a Titan of Vikings, it is just not right.”
So now the morning after, as tears and rain subside, Chargers fans now realize we have something to decide.
Commanders, Broncos, Dolphins — fish? Or Bengals, Texans, Falcons — birds? 49ers? Patriots? Saints? Are these not merely words?
As for the San Diego Chargers, the chapter is now shut. Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore,” so we’ll heal the deepest cut.
And as our handsome Mayor said in his State-of-Town address, San Diego did not lose the team; they lost the town that’s best.
The sadness of knowing there will be no more Tailgate Parties is overwhelming.
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