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'Twas the Waiting Before Prokhorov

Wfp_mediumA 12-win season has forced many Nets fans to find new ways to
entertain themselves. While writing a Nets haiku has  been a
long time tradition of our forum posters, we'd like to offer a
new take on one of  our favorite ownership-transfer poems.
So gather 'round the fire, boys and girls.

Written by GMJigga and Cpawfan

'Twas the waiting before Prokhorov, when all through the site
Every fan was posting their plan with delight;
The cap space was waiting to be used with great care,
In hopes that Prokhorov's checkbook soon would be there;
The top free agents are headed to the playoffs to win,
While the second tier guys are hoping to cash in;

CDR in the gym, Wall with his draft cap,
Terrence missing practice for a long Summer's nap,
When out of the Yards there arose such a clatter,
I took the Path train from Hoboken to see what was the matter.
Quick off the L train I flew like a flash,
Dodging hipsters on fixies, with a belt as a sash.
It was Goldstein debating on new-melted snow,
Surrounded by homeowners who just would not go

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Jay-Z's jet which landed quite near,
With a large passenger, so lively and strong,
I knew it a moment it must be Lebron.
Wearing Kenyon's old number, to the Rock the fans came,
While Van Gundy whistled for his players and called them by name;
"Now, Amar'e! now, Courtney! now, Terrence and James!
On, Lopez! and those to be determined since we don't know their names!
Bring Favors or Wesley! Or Turner or Wall!
Now go win some games! 50 games! Win them all!
The offense was flowing at an all time high,
The irrelevant Knicks fans began to cry.
So into the off-season with confidence they flew,
Enjoying the nightlife with Prokhorov, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw on the Pru,
Exiting a helicopter with wingtip shoes,
The sound of Gosudarstvenny was getting near,
And finally I could say that Prokhorov was here.
The fan base was saved, for he was approved
The naysayers and Knicks fans cries were now moot.
Ratner was gone, kicked to the curb,
As from the Nets fans faithful his name they did slur.
Prokhorov's eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Was it from the vodka? The sale of the team?
The bevy of females? 'twas a frequent theme

He had a thin face, and smiled a lot;
Had 15 billion dollars, and a missing yacht
And I laughed when I saw him, for this season was bad
But he let me know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
Filled our team out with talent, and got rid of the jerks.
In his checkbook he did scribble, he spared no expense,
Our franchise would stop being a joke from this point hence
We've waited for a savior, waited all year,
Suffered through a 12 win season for a team we hold dear.
But finally I heard Prokhorov exclaim as he jet skied out of sight:

"The New Jersey Nets were bad but I'll make them just right"