In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
North or south, east or west, he really never knew.
Down the St. Lawrence River, to the large lake,
To his crew, Columbus admitted he was a fake.
After the long journey to Lake Erie,
our fake hero was getting weary.
He found a nice place for a nap on the shore,
the crew said "**** this fake! No more!"
They left him dreaming in the sun,
with nothing to eat, not even a hotdog bun.
He awoke alone but did not care,
for a new world he found, his legend would bear.
Except he really wasnt alone here,
for pointing at him were many a spear.
Wrapped in a bluejacket, down the river Scioto,
taken to a place he could not imagine he would go.
The middle of nowhere, a city grew before him,
what began as a trip with smiles turned grim.
In the city center, a surprise awaited,
the speaker rose his hand, the hubbub abated.
"This city is yours great traveler, to make,
it shall be named after you, to honor your mistake.
The sports shall be pathetic
appetite for them apathetic.
BlueJackets shall be the name,
Because you wore that when you came."
"WHY HERE!?!" Columbus screamed
"Is this not what you dreamed?
To be remembered for eternity?"
"That of course is a certainty,
but this has not gone to plan."
"I'm sorry to hear that, pale man,
your only way out is to die, I'm sure of it."
"Here though? This awful place? ****."
-Peter DeBoer
And that players, is how Columbus was founded. Now go out there and kick their ass.
