The Night Before Big Game
  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 Big Game soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of The Axe raced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the Quad there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see whats 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 begun to glow
Gave the lustre of game-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal Block S, and eight mighty tree,
With a strong young driver, and his blocking crew,
In a moment mighty St. Stepfan broke right through.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Schwartzstein! now, Young! now, Hewitt and all!
On, Skov! on Anderson! on, Thomas, 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 the runners they flew,
With the playbook full of tricks, and St. Stepfan 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. Stepfan came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with grasses and soot;
A bundle of defenders he fooled with a fake
His straight 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,
And TDs encircled his head like a holiday wreath;
He had a broad back and legs built like trees
And when he ran the ball the bears scattered like fleas.
He was tall and chiseled, a right jolly old 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 his work,
And ran over the bears; then turned with a smirk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the field they 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, lets hold The Axe tight!"Â
----------
with typo fixed
  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 Big Game soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of The Axe raced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the Quad there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see whats 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 begun to glow
Gave the lustre of game-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal Block S, and eight mighty tree,
With a strong young driver, and his blocking crew,
In a moment mighty St. Stepfan broke right through.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Schwartzstein! now, Young! now, Hewitt and all!
On, Skov! on Anderson! on, Thomas, 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 the runners they flew,
With the playbook full of tricks, and St. Stepfan 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. Stepfan came with a bound.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with grasses and soot;
A bundle of defenders he fooled with a fake
His straight 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,
And TDs encircled his head like a holiday wreath;
He had a broad back and legs built like trees
And when he ran the ball the bears scattered like fleas.
He was tall and chiseled, a right jolly old 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 his work,
And ran over the bears; then turned with a smirk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the field they 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, lets hold The Axe tight!"Â
----------
with typo fixed
Eric
"the older we get the better we were"
