Can anybody????

Translate this into modern english....gah???



Sideline Wench: Since none of my sex 'tis allowed

Within the network booth on high,

'Twill be my one sweet distaff voice

Midst these growling sports-page lowlifes

Which will, upon my sideline nunnery,

Dare confront the pretty Brady.



Two heralds, Kornheisercranz and Wilbonstern, wearing hideous matching ESPN doublets, elbow the Sideline Wench aside.



Kornheisercranz: Upon this line-ed greensward set within

A desert the Almighty fixed but for cactus

Will be this, our strange stage for Sabbath's pigskin war,

Waged by mesomorphs come from green Blue States afar.



Wilbonstern: 'Tis stranger still the warrior names affixed,

For they would better be the one, the other.

Think on it: those called Giants are but dwarfs here,

Mere ciphers in the point spread, a goodly dozen down.



Kornheisercranz: Yea, the true giants, these peerless monsters,

Call themselves Patriots, e'en though they give shame

To that sweet address, trafficking more as traitors,

Scoundrels in video deceit, cashing all manner of Belichicks.



Sideline Wench: But, hush all you scribes who bloviate so,

For comes now fair Brady, he who is as super

In his mortal company as e're this game is to sport.

But soft! Let me look upon him as if I filled his embrace.

Oh! A visage that Narcissus would have traded for!

And a manner that knows neither pressure nor fear.

But, alas, 'tis women of fashion that he favors,

For one already has his babe, another his flowers,

And I, only a sideline wench who can but model dreams.



And now Brady enters amid a crowd of admirers. Small children toss rose petals in his path.



Kornheisercranz: Methinks the crunch upon his presence is so great,

And the paparazzi do shine forth such a spangled glare

That the great golden orb above must be dimmed

And the sounds of Niagara itself seem noiseless

Before the din of questions that confront our great Brady.



The Media: Brady, Brady what is afoot with thou?



Brady: Good men of the press box, I come whole to you,

For always the feats I have achieved, were upon my two feet.

And Sunday, I shall play the same no less,

One game at a time, one good foot before the other.

But now, I bid you, let me take my leave to join my mates,

For by rolling alone, there is no way for Moss to gather passes.



Narrator (in hushed tones): And so Brady exits stage left ... and the heralds return.



Wilbonstern:: But look now, who approaches from yon other way?

'Tis young Eli, who seems, in his manner, yet a boy,

No match for such a paragon as the dauntless Brady.



Kornheisercranz: 'Tis so, he is yet more Manning than man,

But the football blood that fills that callow vessel

Is as royal as Brady ever bought to his captured throne.

Eli is the seed of the sainted Archie

And thus branch from the same tree as Peyton,

He, who made stallions of Colts but twelvemonth past.

Mayhap the lad can, with a pigskin, find the same mark

Little David did when bookies of yore favored huge Goliath.



Sideline Wench: So, withal, is the grandeur of Brady match for the legacy of Eli?

Forsooth,

With that I take to silence and send it back up to the big boys in the booth.

Can anybody????
Do your own homework. No one wants to go through this whole long thing for you. It's not that hard -- here's how you do it:

Any time you see t in front of a normal word, like 'tis or 'twill, make it into it ___, like it is or it will. Look up the words/phrases you don't know, like "callow vessel." Just type it into Google, and you're sure to get something. As for the rest... if you see an archaic word that you know, like "fair" or "visage," change it into a modern equivilant, like "pretty" or "image." And make everything sound less formal. That's all you have to do.
Reply:Wow... I'll give it my best shot.



Sideline Reporter (female): Since women aren't allowed in the press booth, me and my lovely voice will be stuck down here with the rough people who, when they hear my innocent talking, go out and take on Tom Brady.



Two reporters, Kornheiser and Wilbon, wearing hideous matching ESPN gear, come on camera.



Kornheiser: The green within the desert, where the only green is the cactus, is our strange venue for Sunday's Super Bowl, fought by well-muscled men from the other side of the country.



Wilbon: Actually, their names are kind of strange. Each team's nickname is more fitting for the other team. Think about it: the Giants are coming in as the underdogs, down a dozen points in the point spread.



Kornheiser: True, and the real giants, the ones making history, call themselves Patriots. Which is ironic, considering the Spygate incident with Bill Belichick earlier this year.







Do you get the idea now? It's two football anchors, Michael Wilbon and Tony Kornheiser, reporting about the Super Bowl. And very poetic, too. This is one time when ROFL is called for!