The Chudley Cannons

I find it endearing that Ron is such an ardent fan of the Bad News Bears of Quidditch. Here's my hunch as to why he's so devoted to the Chudley Cannons...

The Chudley Cannons
The Chudley Cannons are my team.
All right, they're not too fast;
They're clumsy clunkers, and they seem
To always come in last.

Those fellas often fail in flight.
They falter; they don't zoom.
I'm not too sure they learned the right
Technique to mount a broom.

They're quite adept at messing up.
Alas! That's nothing new;
They haven't won a single cup
Since 1892.

And yet when they embrace the air,
I let my faith take hold.
Their robes, as blazing as my hair,
Contain a hint of gold.

I understand just how it is
To regularly lose,
To feel like a substandard wiz,
To crave another's shoes.

But somewhere in me, buried deep,
Resides a champion,
So I won't sit around and weep
About where I have been.

I think I'd rather look ahead,
Imagining a day
When Weasley is the king instead.
I'll disregard dismay.

The Chudley Cannons are my team.
That's just as it should be,
For if they can achieve their dream,
There might be hope for me.