The One-Ring Circus
If you want to hear what The One-Ring Circus sounds like in my head…
Once upon a Friday night In November of '24, Two men signed up for a fight— Chaotic violence galore! But hold your horses, calm your thirst, Before the ring, there’s setup first!
A July date was set For Tyson to kill a dummy, But Iron Mike said, "Wait, not yet! There's some ulcers in my tummy!" So... a four-month delay— That was the wait for this bout. And the people pined for the day When Mike would knock this ass clown out. During the long, four-month wait, One feeling grew severe. The huge amount of Jake Paul hate, It was super crystal clear. Jake Paul arrived on the scene in a hurry With an obnoxious, annoying whoosh. People all over flew into a fury— Hoping Tyson would bloody this douche. To what do we attribute Jake's unlikeability? Oh, let us count the ways. Is it his utter lack of grace and gentility? Ya know, his asshole-laden displays? Maybe his antics, so loud and so brash? His pick-me-girl energy? His worship of cash? Perhaps his authenticity, That ever absent trait? Or maybe his duplicity Keeps the masses irate?
I'm not being unfair. I'm not just a hater. Seriously, I swear! I'm just the narrator. So in the spirit of fairness, let's talk Real Deal Because Mike's not without fault. The dude had Evander's ear for a meal To say nothing of that sexual assault. But it's the devil you know in this day and age. And Mike's been around since Nintendo. Too often, nostalgia takes center stage, And the world embraces the sideshow. We watched these men train, Watched their Instagram reels. Both promised pain, Both flaunted their skills. Mike's fifty-eight, His fists still bring the thunder. And Jake? He's in great shape, For a big, dip-shitted blunder. Preceding all this brouhaha, The U.S. was a country divided. Neither Trump, nor Biden, nor Kamala Could deliver a country united. The people, they needed some common ground And Iron Mike, he did the trick. Every red-blooded 'Merican wanted him to pound On that cockwomblish YouTubing prick.
The pre-fight show, it overflowed— All pomp and circumstance. But then things got weird when Tyson showed His commando old-mannish ass. Excitement was promised, and it was delivered— Cowgirls, celebs, and a wrinkled rump... We even got sweet Rosie Perez, The actress from White Men Can't Jump. The undercard, it set the tone, The men mostly forgettable. Except for the guy humping his opponent Wow...so, so regrettable. The women, though, what a clash! Their blood, it flowed like wine. Serrano's eye, good god, that gash! She lost, but she'll be fine. The main event finally commenced, Our fighters met in the ring. In the air hung all the suspense For this circus-y weirdo thing. Netflix hosted this melee, this scrap. A great, big corporate flex. Wait, what? Buffering? Ah, crap! Streamers, they couldn't See What's Next!
But there was never much to see, These "fighters" made that clear. Their punches were carefree, Their violence insincere. It was the fans who got their asses kicked, Their spirits knocked around. This fight had them feeling tricked By this old man and this clown. All the build-up, all the fuss, All the hopes and dreams. A cash-grab's all it ever was. Hype is never what it seems. Let this be a lesson, y'all, The last time we're played for fools. There's a fix in every brawl When money makes the rules.
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I love that we live in a world where someone would take the time to write this delightful, entertaining, sarcastic, insightful poem.
Good one :D
For me, this was another chapter in the book. What book, you ask? My dear departed dad and his brother came up with the book. It was entitled Who Gives a Shit. What was in it? Who gives a shit. And so, every other thing became another chapter in the book.
I miss my dad, but I count myself lucky that he was my dad.