And then Brad wrote:
Allright, I really promise that this (probably) will be my last song for the season.
Once again, to the tune of "Let it Be," with apologies to McCartney and the Lennon estate:
When I came home from work one evening
My darling wife sat next to me
"Put your hand right on my tummy-
"It’s number three, number three."
I said, "I’ll kill that bastard Winick!"
She promised she loved only me
"In my valley rides one sheriff
"They’re your three, they’re your three."
Number three, number three
Number three, number three
Need that first-place money
Number three, number three.
And when I check the standings
Winick’s shadow still lurks over me
Hear the words of Winick:
"Stop at three, stop at three."
Number three, number three
Number three, yeah, number three
The world gets one more Riptorn
Number three, number three.
(ETA: Feb. 2000; plenty of time for pre-draft prep)