Really needing a win this holiday season Cougs. Let’s go take one from the puppies. Couldn’t sleep tonight, so I banged this out on the old iPad:
Twas the night before Apple Cup when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not Coug, Dawg, or mouse.
The pom pons were hung by the foam fingers with care,
In hopes that Kickoff soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of footballs danced in their heads.
And mamma in her hoodie, and I in my cap,
Had just logged off of Cougfan for a long winter’s 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 a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the… Seriously, what’s a sash?
The moon on the breast of the field turf covered with snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Butch T. Coug, and 11 athletes in Coug gear.
With a little old mascot, so learned and strong,
I knew in a moment we’d hear the Jaws song.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Leaf! now, Gesser! now, Bledsoe and Rypien!
On, Bumpus! On, Hanson! on Thompson and Gleason!
To the top of the hill! to the top of the Bryant Hall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the Stadium the players they flew,
With the dreams of Cougar nation, and Old Crimson too.
And then, in a twinkling, I thought I heard on the roof
Panting and pawing, a lame puppy woof.
I tried hard to think, and turned around,
Chuckled when I remembered a team, winless year-round
Now my Butch he has fur, from his head to his foot,
And his jersey is never tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of signs he has flung on his back,
For when he points and says “Go Cougs,” that way and back.
His eyes-how they twinkled! Though to some they are scary
His color is Crimson, don’t ever think cherry!
He loves the limelight and to put on a show,
And his road uniform is as white as the snow.
He removes old Crimson from it’s Game Day sheath
And dreams of waving it holding a Rose in his teeth.
He lives for the long pass and even the belly
For First Downs, and running backs that make defenders’ legs jelly!
He fights for the trophies to put on the shelf,
And I have to admit, I’d like to see some myself!
Someday before that old Lee Corso is dead,
We’ll all see that sportscaster put on Butch’s head.
Now the Cougs need the fans, as they go about their work,
So yell, clap, and chant and scream like a jerk.
Yell at the kickoff and for every flag a ref throws,
For tomorrow is game day so pretend it’s the pros!
For you can bet that you’ll hear the Cougs whistle,
When the QB leaves center and goes to the pistol.
And you’ll hear Cougs exclaim at the wondrous sight
“Happy Apple Cup to all, Go Cougs tonight!”