‘Twas the night of the Championship, and all through South Beach, Notre Dame fans were saying, “Another title’s in reach!”
The luck of the Irish had carried them through, with wins over Pittsburgh and even Purdue.
The Damers were nestled all snug in their seats, with visions of crystal…just one team to beat!
And I in my houndstooth and crimson and white, knew for the Irish, it could be a long night.
When out of the tunnel there arose such a thunder, fans stood to their feet with amazement and wonder.
The ground shook like an earthquake had just hit the field, and I felt Irish fear beginning to build.
They scattered and looked for some place to hide, as the announcer proclaimed, “And here comes the Tide!”
I sang “Yea Alabama,” yes I sang every word, as Notre Dame marveled at the elephant herd.
Led by a man both lively and quick, everyone knew that he was St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came. He whistled and shouted and called them by name.
“Now Lacy! Now Milliner, McCarron and Fluker! On Barrett! On Mosely! On Warmack and Cooper!
Miami is where Notre Dame’s luck shall end. The BCS trophy is ours to defend!”
Then after the kickoff, a beating began. The Irish now knew that they were outmanned.
They tried to get going, but never could start. They were just simply no match for the defense of Smart.
Brian Kelly cried out, “This just isn’t fair! Saban was given a month to prepare!”
But his cries were not heard, they fell on deaf ears. “We have to adjust! We have to switch gears!”
Then Notre Dame ran what nobody expected. They faked the reverse, but the pass was deflected.
The ball was picked off! The crowd let out a roar, as the Bama defender walked in for the score.
Saban spoke not a word to his crimson machine. As the seconds ticked off, to number 15.
If one thing was learned in Miami that night, it’s that you don’t bring a leprechaun to an elephant fight.
And I heard the crowd yell to the losers in blue, “We just beat the hell outta you!”
-anon
No comments:
Post a Comment