The Night Before Big Game 2025 - Printable Version

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The Night Before Big Game 2025 - 82lsju - 11-20-2025

The Night Before Big Game 2025
     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;
 
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 begun to glow
Gave the lustre of gameday to objects below,
 
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal golf cart, and eight mighty tree,
 
With a strong young driver, and blocking crew,
Mighty St. Micah broke right on through.
More rapid than griffins his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
 
"Now, Williams! Now, Roush! now, Kenney and all!
On, Rose! on Edwards! on, Flintoft, 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 game his linemen they flew,
With a playbook of runs, and St. Micah 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. Micah 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 tacklers he beat with his speed
His straight arm a weapon that made others plead.
 
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 touchdowns circled his visage like a holiday wreath;
 
He had a quick step and strength that could freeze
And when he hit the line the bears 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 ran through the bears; then turned with a smirk,
 
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the field 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,
“Let’s take the Axe, it’s our sacred right”

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RE: The Night Before Big Game 2025 - PalmTree - 11-20-2025

(11-20-2025, 08:58 AM)82lsju Wrote:  The Night Before Big Game 2025
     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;
 
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 begun to glow
Gave the lustre of gameday to objects below,
 
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a Cardinal golf cart, and eight mighty tree,
 
With a strong young driver, and blocking crew,
Mighty St. Micah broke right on through.
More rapid than griffins his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
 
"Now, Williams! Now, Roush! now, Kenney and all!
On, Rose! on Edwards! on, Flintoft, 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 game his linemen they flew,
With a playbook of runs, and St. Micah 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. Micah 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 tacklers he beat with his speed
His straight arm a weapon that made others plead.
 
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 touchdowns circled his visage like a holiday wreath;
 
He had a quick step and strength that could freeze
And when he hit the line the bears 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 ran through the bears; then turned with a smirk,
 
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the field 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,
“Let’s take the Axe, it’s our sacred right”

Haha - good job!

Alternate, more "traditional" ending....

"I heard him exclaim, ere cresting the Highway 17 pass,
“Take your dirty Golden Bear, and shove it up your <bleep>!”

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SkiBum80 - SkiBum80 - 11-21-2025

Excellent!
May this Christmas tale come true

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RE: The Night Before Big Game 2025 - martyup - 11-21-2025

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RE: The Night Before Big Game 2025 - Sam Leopold - 11-21-2025

One team good, one team guh, on the eve of taking the field
One of them has to prevail, the other to yield

The Golden Bears are coming off an upset at formerly ranked Louisville
And the Cardinal, well, they might as well be inhabitants of Whoville

If you're in the Puget Sound area, you will see me at Kell's Irish Pub
Otherwise, I wish you the best in your chosen fan club

The Stanford offense will do their best to move the ball
But it's hard when your OL is five clones of A.T. Hall.

So it may be up to our defense to be the South Bay heroes
But it's a tall order to hold the opposing offense to zero

We can hope for short fields and to ride the leg of Emmet Kenney
Even if the points we put up on the board won't be many

Perhaps a Stanford defender will step up with a pick-six
Though I'd rather not have to hope for unlikely gimmicks

So let us fans all root on our team with vigor, vim, and good cheer
As they try to avoid going 3-9 for the fifth straight #$%*^&! year.

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RE: The Night Before Big Game 2025 - BostonCard - 11-21-2025

Big Game at the ’Fürd [With apologies to Ernest Thayer]

The score stood Cardinal 20, and the Bears trailed by just four,
But hope still filled the bleachers as the clock read one minute more.
And when the kickoff fluttered down and bounced along the ground,
A roar went up from Berkeley’s side—the Bears had come unbound.

For first a screen to Davis gained a tidy little slice,
And then a slant to Johnson put the Bears across the ice.
And when a draw play burst ahead for nearly fifteen more,
A mighty faith swept through the stands: Cal would settle this old score.

Then up from golden benches rose a thunderous, yearning plea,
A single name repeated loud—the quarterback, J.T.
If only he could rally them, if only he’d not fall,
The Bears could snatch the Big Game back and seize the Axe for all.

There was ease in J.T.’s huddle, and confidence in his eyes,
No tremble touched his cadence as he called the next surprise.
And when he barked the snap count and the ball came flying back,
A swelling expectation rose: No chance of a Stanford sack.

The first down toss was laser-sharp, a rocket to the seam;
The second found a tailback who danced nimbly through the team.
On third he scrambled deftly, dodging tackles left and right—
And now the Bears stood fourth and short, with mere seconds left to fight.

Then from the sideline thousands cried, “This play will make us whole!”
And J.T. nodded solemnly—this drive would be his role.
He checked the routes, he scanned the front, he steadied trembling fate,
For never had old Big Game hung on such a slender slate.

The ball was snapped—too slowly—and the pocket quickly broke;
A Stanford end came flying in as if on wings of smoke.
J.T. stepped up, he cocked his arm to launch the winning crown—
But red-and-white came crashing through and hurled the hero down.

Oh, somewhere Bears are cheering still, their hopes not turned to dust;
And somewhere students chant their songs with undiminished trust.
But under Stanford’s twilight sky, no joy came out of that—
For J.T. fell on fourth and last, and Big Game ended flat.

And as the Axe was hoisted high, the victors sang their tune—
For mighty J.T., pride of Cal,
Was sacked as time expired—
And Stanford held the boon.

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