Photo: Getty

Upon the occasion of a man’s forty eighth and final loss:

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Trapped inside the whirling gyre
Tossed we are upon the pyre
Facing down the licking fire
We remember Gus Bradley

Cast into the seas of fate
Crushed by waves’ unceasing break
Slipping through death’s silent lake
We think about Gus Bradley

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Suffering from torment’s harm
Shackled by the leg and arm
Freedom’s false and bitter balm
We won’t forget Gus Bradley

Shot through cannon’s belching surge
Caught in tyrant’s bloody purge
As we mourn with funeral dirge
We sing about Gus Bradley

Winter’s icy finger bones
Which grasp our throats and choke our moans
With the lowest winning percentage of any coach in the Super Bowl era
Farewell my friend Gus Bradley.


Jaguars Junction” is an independent source of football analysis unaffiliated with any professional sports franchise.