‘Twas the dawn before the Open,
And all through the Box,
Nothing was stirring
Not even the chalk.
The jump ropes were hung on the wall sans care,
With hopes that Castro’s announcement soon would be there.
One could only guess what Castro would have them do.
They may lift, do gymnastics, or do things in pairs,
In anticipation of the victory that soon will be theirs.
Emily’s brute strength would make quite a showcase,
Though something heavy may make Cho a disgrace.
We hope Em doesn’t face muscle-ups for seven minutes,
Because even we know she does have her limits.
When out of Castro’s mouth will burst sixteen-point-one,
Only Emily and Cho will know what has to get done.
The clock will count down: 3, 2, 1 – GO:
Whatever the WOD is, it will be quite the show!
Then the rest of us athletes at home on the couch
Will gasp and hurriedly erupt from our slouch,
To strategize, plot, and plan our attack
To ensure we avoid collapsing flat on our back.
We’ll eat clean, get sleep, and properly hydrate,
And know the schedule so we’re never late.
We’ll cheer loudly for our team and judge when we can,
To support our home athletes and be the best fan.
Although the leaderboard counts for a little bit,
Unless we’re Abbott we shouldn’t give a shit.
It’s only me against me, and you against you,
Time to get done what we love to do!