11-21-2019, 06:24 PM
The Night Before Big Game 2019
with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
'Twas the night before Big Game, when all through the Bay
Not a Cardinal was stirring, not even Elway;
The jerseys were hung by the lockers with care,
Knowing that Big Game soon would be there;
The Cardinal were nestled all snug in their beds,
Visions of Touchdown Cookies danced in their heads;
And Deanne in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the Oval there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see what’s the matter.
Away to the stadium I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The sun over the field had just begun to glow
Gave the lustre of gameday to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal Block S, and eight mighty tree,
With a haughty young driver, and his O-line too,
In a moment St. Davis broke right on through.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Scarlett! now, Adebo! now, Toner and all!
On, Sarrell! on Toohill! on, Booker, come all!
To the top of the post! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild blitz fly,
When they meet with a stunt, mount to the sky,
So to the goal his receivers they flew,
With a playbook full of passes, and St. Davis too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the street
The prancing and pawing of each little cleat.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Who but St. Davis came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his jersey was tarnished with grasses and soot;
A bundle of defenders he fooled with a fake
His arm a weapon that made safeties quake.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks covered in eye black, his pose was quite scary!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the helmet he wore was as white as the snow;
The stump of a mouthpiece he held tight in his teeth,
As arcing passes circled his visage like a holiday wreath;
He had a quick release and strength that could freeze
And when he hit the bears they scattered like fleas.
He was powerful and chiseled, a right jolly young Card,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my guard;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had little to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And passed through the bears; then turned with a smirk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to the goal line he rose;
He sprang to his left, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Big Game to all, let’s hold The Axe tight”
with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
'Twas the night before Big Game, when all through the Bay
Not a Cardinal was stirring, not even Elway;
The jerseys were hung by the lockers with care,
Knowing that Big Game soon would be there;
The Cardinal were nestled all snug in their beds,
Visions of Touchdown Cookies danced in their heads;
And Deanne in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the Oval there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see what’s the matter.
Away to the stadium I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The sun over the field had just begun to glow
Gave the lustre of gameday to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal Block S, and eight mighty tree,
With a haughty young driver, and his O-line too,
In a moment St. Davis broke right on through.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Scarlett! now, Adebo! now, Toner and all!
On, Sarrell! on Toohill! on, Booker, come all!
To the top of the post! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild blitz fly,
When they meet with a stunt, mount to the sky,
So to the goal his receivers they flew,
With a playbook full of passes, and St. Davis too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the street
The prancing and pawing of each little cleat.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Who but St. Davis came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his jersey was tarnished with grasses and soot;
A bundle of defenders he fooled with a fake
His arm a weapon that made safeties quake.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks covered in eye black, his pose was quite scary!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the helmet he wore was as white as the snow;
The stump of a mouthpiece he held tight in his teeth,
As arcing passes circled his visage like a holiday wreath;
He had a quick release and strength that could freeze
And when he hit the bears they scattered like fleas.
He was powerful and chiseled, a right jolly young Card,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my guard;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had little to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And passed through the bears; then turned with a smirk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to the goal line he rose;
He sprang to his left, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Big Game to all, let’s hold The Axe tight”
Eric
"the older we get the better we were"