The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the one called “Rush” that day; Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell; There was ease in Georges’ manner as he stepped into his place;
He faced a Gracie Fighter unimpressed with lay-and-pray.
And then in pre-fight banter Georges read from scripted line,
And then with open disdain, Diaz muttered, “209”.
It rumbled through the Mandalay, it rattled in the dell.
It knocked upon the walls and recoiled the metal stage,
For Georges, mighty Georges, was advancing to the cage
There was pride in Georges’ bearing and a smile on Georges’ face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Georges on the mat.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as his corner rubbed his chest; Five thousand tongues applauded when they announced him as, “the best”. And now Nick’s leather-covered fist came hurtling through the air; From the benches packed with people, there went up a muffled roar, With a smile of Christian charity great Georges’ visage shone; “Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud; The sneer is gone from Georges’ lip, his teeth are clenched in hate; Oh, somewhere in the Northern land the sun is shining bright;
Even though this new opponent’s middle fingers stood there flipped,
Defiance gleamed in Georges’ eye, a sneer curled Georges’ lip.
And Georges stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Upon the sturdy wrestler, the fist unheeded sped-
“That poked my eye,” said Georges. The ref stopped it ’cause “he bled”.
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the referee!” shouted someone on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Georges raised his hand
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the fight go on.
He signaled to his opponent, but once again he failed to block,
Georges looked bewildered as the ref said, “Get the doc.”
But one scornful look from Georges and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Georges wouldn’t let that fist land once again.
He wipes with renewed fervor, the Vaseline on his face.
And now Diaz lifts up his fists, and now he lets them go,
And now compustrike is shattered by the volume of his blows.
Celine Dion sings gaily, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men play hockey, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Montreal– mighty Georges was knocked out.
Mighty Casey is fitting on All Star tuesday.
Hey cool website. My favourite page:
Pretty lame to talk smack on a guy who will be nothing but respectful as hell and probably repeatedly call his opponent the biggest challenge he's ever faced.
Way to use a poem on behalf of fucking Stockton of all places though to call a guy out.
octowussy - How does Diaz make weight with you on his dick?
lol
Ha wow 
Teh Spider -Chris Power - Pretty lame to talk smack on a guy who will be nothing but respectful as hell and probably repeatedly call his opponent the biggest challenge he's ever faced.Hey funny how no one says this about Chael/Anderson. Get the fuck outta here. <img src="/images/phone/post_tag.png" alt="Phone Post" border="0" style="vertical-align:middle;"/>
Way to use a poem on behalf of fucking Stockton of all places though to call a guy out.
Not sure you spend much time on here if you don't think a lot of people get on Chael about his behaviour on the UG!
Besides, Chael's trying to sell a fight and keep himself relevant - this is his only goal ever with anything he says. Diaz didn't make this, and nobody but UGers/a few others will see this so it doesn't do anything to help sell the fight (except to UGers who will buy it anyways). This exists to make fun of GSP, that's it.
And frankly, Diaz himself is probably above that.