O Captain! My Captain! Your stay at here at PPL looks done.
The team has weathered every rumor, the prize we sought still not won.
Midseason is near, the fans I hear, the Sons of Ben not exulting,
While Union eyes look to steady the keel, the vessel trimmed, this move – insulting.
But O Bearfighter! Our mohawked center back!
Where on the bench my Captain lies – he can no longer attack.
O the dooping drops inked red,
Hamstrung and Californian bread.
O Danny boy! My Captain! Surprises seem to happen here every week;
For you the phrase “Jungite aut Perite” sometimes meant more words than one could speak.
Your River End banner will forever hang – entwined in our hearts;
For you, our original skipper, your MLS journey could end where it starts.
Here Califf! Dear number four!
Your sleeved arms hang beneath your uniquely quaffed pompadour;
Most think you look best in blue and gold,
Seems others believe your colors should be navy, white and red or so I’m told.
The front office slow to answer, their lips are pale and still;
Our father Ben lost the battle of tears and his team might have lost their will.
But we, the Union, our fans are anchored; the voyage has just begun,
For one day we too will raise the cup and that mighty silver object will be won.
As of now I only see three or four original slices left of Bimbo bread,
It hurts to see another sent away from our soccer-specific homestead.
The summer months are coming and we want to thank our first captain most,
We know one day our team will succeed or soon we’ll be sponsored by Bimbo toast.
By Doug Dryer (@SnoopDoug82)