Hawkeye Fever
The Black and Gold fever is running wild around much of the upper Midwest right now, so I thought I'd share this poem for all the Hawkeye Fans and all wannabee Hawkeye Fans to enjoy.....
Twas a week after Christmas and all through the stands,
Everybody was cheering, and clapping their hands.
The banter'd been spirited, setting the stage - A Post season battle set to do wage.
The Hawkeye's were underdogs (based on the spread),
But visions of victory danced in their heads.
And Ma in her jersey and I in my cap,
Were set on the sofa to watch the first snap.
When there on the TV arose such as fuss,
I inched myself forward and tried not to cuss.
I rose to my feet and I stomped on the ground,
I grabbed the remote and turned off the sound.
The site wasn't pretty, my Hawks were behind,
(What's worse, they were playing a team I maligned).
And then, what on the flickering screen did I see,
But a great Hawkeye offense and one awesome D.
The QB was quick with an arm like a cannon,
I knew in a moment it was not Matt Sherman(!!!)
With Vick like! scrambles and Montana like aim,
He guided his offense and called them by name.
"To Hinkel, to Clark, to Jones and Brown,
Run Russell, Run Lewis, Run Cervantes, first down"
Hammer the middle and throw the ball long,
Now down the field, down the field, down the field all.
When e're he felt pressure he scrambled away,
And gave up not one single sack the whole entire day.
He passed on the defense with quickness and speed,
(Like teachers in Ames, pass kids who can't read.)
Like cop-killer bullets through bulletproof vests,
We tore through their defense, like Hawkeye's possessed.
Tackles were broken and coverages blown,
And next thing I knew, we were in the end zone.
After winning the game for the gold and black,
Brad ran for the showers without looking back.
But I heard him exclaim as he grinned in delight,
"Merry Christmas Miami, and turn out the lights"