'Twas the Night Before Kickoff

Twas the night before Kickoff, OSU versus Trees
Not a creature was stirring, not even the Beavs.
The grill tongs were hung by the barby with care,
In hopes that fine meats soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of touchdowns danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just uh...we'll just say...it's time for a nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like Duck Dodgers (of the 23rd and a half century!),
Tore open the shutters and it was a Rodgers.

The moon on the crest of the freshly-lined field
Gave the lustre of mid-day to TD scorers who kneeled.
When, what did my wondering eyes suggest,
But the UO Assassin, with an eight on his chest.

With a little fly sweep, so lively is Ocho Loco now,
And of course, the slimmer, trimmer Lyle Moevao.
More rapid than eagles the playcalls they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"FIRE ARC ARIZONA, Phantom and GHOST!

We run plays that turn your D into toast!

To the top of the standings! to the top of the poll!
This team won't stop till it's won the ROSE BOWL!"

 

As excuses from douche fans in November may fly,
When they meet with Levitre, defenders may die.
So off to the wayside the linebackers all flew,
With a face full of grass, and an earhole, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each Beaver hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney to Stroughter with one foot inbound!

He was simply a blur, from his head to his foot,
The defenders all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A team full of Beavers he carried on his back,
And he looked like V Butler, celebrating a sack

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And his moves were all back--now time for the show.

The stumps of trojan ankles still lay on the field,
And the smoke it encircled his whole highlight reel.
He had a broad face and a chiseled, sleek belly,
He stopped and then started--defenders were jelly!

He punked all defenders right and then left
And I laughed when I saw him, with moves so deft!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And lit up the scoreboard, then turned with a smirk.
And right there it was, a fine Heisman pose,
Now straight up the rankings and onto the Rose!


He sprang loose from his blocks--all legal, no whistle,
And away the Beavs flew, an endzone-seeking missile.
I heard Sammie exclaim, as he ran out of sight,
"Happy Kick Off to all, O!!!!!!!S!!!!!!!!U!!!!!!!!!!! FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!"

 

Beavertree_medium

image via the Haak


 

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