With a storied career left hanging in the balance,
For a man of so many immeasurable "talents",
I scribe this ode, at every sports fan's behest,
To the man, the legend, Mr. Ron Artest.
From Queens to St. John's you always brought your game,
And it wasn't too long after, that the NBA was calling your name.
And while the Bulls thought that you could be their next great star,
You applied at Circuit City to get a discount on that stereo for your car.
But alas, Chicago was no place for you I suppose,
And soon thereafter you were traded for Travis Best and Jalen Rose.
In Indy you arrived with great fanfare and promise,
And somehow you shined despite working with Isaiah Thomas.
Although you destroyed a TV camera during your tenure there,
You were also honored as NBA Defensive Player of the Year.
But alas, your life changed with one flip of the cup,
And although he had been patient, Larry Legend decided your time was up.
Out west you were shipped to be King of the Kings,
But even your Defense could bring them no rings.
After your dogs were taken hungry and howling to the moon,
It was inevitable that you too would be leaving Sac-Town soon.
But alas, you gave Geoff Petrie an easy excuse,
To kick you off the team for domestic abuse.
Now with a future very much in doubt,
And a poor reputation leaving you the littlest of clout.
We bid you adieu, Tru Warier, you fading star,
And marvel that wife-beating is just a blip on your radar.
Musical Accompaniment provided by: Ron Artest