Tag: #ftmf

Much Adieu About Nothing: Or How I Came to Love the Transfer Portal – Act I, The New Hope

I’m going to go ahead and write the farewell post for Billy Napier, because it would seem he’s cooked in Gainesville. Instead of something poignant, I’d prefer to take up the quill and feather and think, how would Shakespeare have written this? In what has turned out to be nothing but a “you can’t make this sh*t up” kind of story arc for the Florida program, I think it’s only fitting to recap this as only old Bill could do. So here it ’tis, a tale in several acts, for your Refugee enjoyment.

Friends, Gator Nation, countrymen, lend me some money.

Act I, Scene I: The Shifting Hopes of the Gator Nation

Enter a CHORUS of Gator Nation supporters, looking dejected yet hopeful.

Chorus:
Behold, as Gator Nation’s lofty dreams
Didst soar aloft like well-worn game shoes cast,
Their hopes did falter, faith began to wane,
In he, the Greatest Developer named,
Who once could turn three-star recruits to kings.

Enter a wise ELDER, addressing the Chorus.

I cast thee out, vile culture! Away with thine promises of legacy building!

Elder:
Alas, their trust in him was sorely tried,
The champion-maker seemed to lose his touch.
Thus turned they eyes unto another star,
A former disciple of the mighty Saban,
That greatest ruler in fair football’s realm.

Enter BILLY NAPIER, a young and noble knight, clad in armor of promise.

Chorus:
Yet found they hope in this young gallant knight,
Sir Billy Napier, brave and full of fire.
To him they turned with hearts renewed in faith,
That he might lead them to the heights of yore,
And craft new legends in the annals bright.

Elder:
With Napier at the helm, their spirits soared,
As dawn’s first light dispels the darkest night.
So shall this knight, with courage and with skill,
Revive the Gator Nation’s cherished dream,
And lead them forth to glory yet unseen.

The Chorus cheers, their hope rekindled by the vision of a promising future.

Act I, Scene II: The Proclamation of the New Savior

Trumpets sound. Enter a HERALD, with a scroll, followed by the eager CHORUS of Gator Nation.

Herald:
Attend, good people of this noble land,
For tidings great and joyous I proclaim!
Gator Nation hath found their savior true,
Announced with fanfare, heralded with hope.

Chorus:
Rejoice! Rejoice! Our dreams take flight once more,
Not as a shoe, but with visions grand of victories to come.

The Herald unfurls the scroll and reads.

Herald:
With this new leader, fans do dream afresh,
A top-flight recruiter, wise and bold,
Who shall restore the glory days of yore,
Once fostered by Archduke Urban the great,
And the dreaded King Steven, stern and fierce.

Chorus:
Oh, joyous day! Our hopes anew are born,
For in this savior, bright as morning’s light,
We see the dawn of triumphs yet to come,
And echoes of our former glory’s might.

The Chorus cheers, their spirits lifted by the promise of renewed greatness.

Act I, Scene III: The Sounding Heard in Far Off Nations, The Man Who Would Be King

Enter PRINCE KIRBY, seated in his inner sanctum within the Butts-Mehre castle. Enter SIR MONKEN and SIR LANNING with urgent news.

Sir Monken:
My liege, a word. Gator Nation hath chosen
One who didst once serve with thee, in the dark
And shadowed land of Alabama’s realm.

Sir Lanning:
Indeed, a comrade from thy bygone days,
Now hailed as their new champion of hope.

Prince Kirby:
I have no time for this, my noble sirs.
The Crimson Tide prepares to meet our might,
And we must ready for the coming storm.
Larger foes than these do we now face.

It is a tale, Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.

Prince Kirby rises, dismissing the news with a wave.

Sir Monken:
As thou command’st, my liege. Thy wisdom guides.
Our blades and minds shall focus on the prize.

Prince Kirby:
Just now, our troops didst lay to ruin the force
Of Georgia Tech, led by the Jester Collins.
Our eyes are fixed upon the grander spoils,
And deep in plans for victory’s sweet crown.

Sir Lanning:
To victory and glory, we shall stride,
With thee, our Prince, to lead us ever on.

Prince Kirby:

Let thine attention focus on grander things,
Concern thine self not with the musings of the south.
I care not for the nation of Oedipal cretins, ne’er have;
And we can dispatch this group with great prejudice.

Sir Lanning and Sir Monken look at each other, confused.

Prince Kirby: I SAID F*CK THOSE MOTHERF*CKERS!

They bow and exit, leaving Prince Kirby to his thoughts.

Act II coming tomorrow.