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'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the valley
They pass down the story of head coach Mike Kelly.
His mug-shot was hung on front pages with care
After police had him booked for assault down there.
Board members were nestled, all snug in their room
An easy pink slip appearing out of the gloom.
The story broke quickly, a domestic, they say
An ex and a struggle, in Bridgeport, PA.
He'd arrived in December, one year before
Promising to deliver a Grey Cup to our door.
He came with a clatter of ego and bluster
Drowning the question: could he pass muster?
The records he'd helped set, back in the day
Were outnumbered by holes in his resume.
A professor he'd been, somewhere near Philly
In charge of a team? That seemed a tad silly.
He said his new team just needed a tweak
Then proceeded to cut half in the following weeks.
The more he sent packing, the more people wondered
If this bunch wasn't bad, why throw it asunder?
There was no denying his gift with the gab
But then he threw out the first of his jabs.
Aiming at the jaw of one Brendan Taman
He said the old GM did his work just on napkins.
Like Billy the Kid, he shot from the hip
Never at loss for a noteworthy clip.
He took aim and fired at scribes and at players
You knew in a moment it must be the Professor.
More rapid than eagles, his headlines they came
He huffed and he puffed, and called them bad names.
First Taman, then Glenn, now Armstrong and Simpson
On LeFors, on the shotgun, at Bishop and Friesen.
Mistakes on the field, an offence in tatters
The losses were one thing, but others, too, mattered.
An act like a circus was now in its throes
From Pacman to Spygate, to banning calls on his show.
He'd blamed all his passers, he'd blamed his O-line
He'd blamed his receivers, trading Franklin and Bryant.
Claiming he'd mastered the finer points of the game,
We found out different, by Googling his name.
The Blue Bomber brand was taking a beating
A laughingstock, kind of like Reinebold repeating.
Fans threatened action, vowing to quit
The Professor just called it more media bullsh--.
Fined by the league, protected by Bauer
His season would come down to the final hour.
Then karma appeared, wearing No. 5
None other than the man Kelly'd thrown aside.
The pivot named Glenn ended his season
Poetic justice, needing no rhyme nor reason.
The year a disaster, blacker than black
Nonetheless the Professor vowed, "I will be back."
Then, in a twinkling, we heard on the wire
The coach is in trouble, and this time it's dire.
His boss, Mr. Bauer, was stepping aside
No longer would the coach get a free ride.
Fired for cause, the directors did say
Not for what happened early that day.
But for 12 months of trouble, conflict and shame
Reflecting badly on the proud Bomber name.
Then came the picture, hot to the press
The Professor, we thought, in a state of duress.
But his eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses, he looked almost cheery.
A sign from the cops he held tight in his hand
And we felt just a tinge of regret for the man.
For his dream had died that hour in PA.
No lawyer, no words could salvage that day.
And so as we ponder this new Christmas season
Let's bury the hatchet, forget all the reasons.
Here's wishing good fortune, good health and bright futures
To all those we know, even the Professor.
paul.friesen@sunmedia.ca