Twas the Night...

Twas the night before the National Championship Game, when all through the Louisiana Superdome.

A lot of creatures were stirring, you could hear them even from Mc Comb, MI.;


The banners were hung from the stadium with care,

In hopes that another one will soon be coming there;


The daiquiri shops stayed open till dawn;

While Clemson visitors hoped Bourbon Street would not be their swan song;


And mamma in her Tiger print, and I in my cap,

Were fired up for a pigskin classic that hopefully would not be a nap,



When out on gameday there arose such a clatter from commentators,

I sprang from my house to visit the matter.



Away from my mom n’dems I flew like a flash,

Took the street car down St Charles to join the party bash.



Purple and gold descended on the streets,

Gave a lustre of a midday celebration and beats,



When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But the Golden band from Tigerland and the Fightin Tigers, hooray!



With a confident grin and a voice that bellows,

I knew in a moment it must be Coach O’s



More rapid than eagles his team they came,

And we whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:



"Now, Burrow! now, Chaison! now Delpit and Stingley!

On, Jefferson! on, Chase! on, Fulton and Clyde Edwards Helaire!


To the top of the Dome! to the topple Clemson!

Now dash away! dash away! so we can run plays out of the shotgun"



So up to da Dome the players they flew

With their helmets and pads and mouthpieces and their jerseys, and Coach O too—



And then, from my seats, I heard a roar from the tunnel

The LSU Tigers are ready to rumble.

Hope you are to Clemson?



A wink of his eye and a twist of his headphones

Gave me faith we would beat our opponent like xylophones.



Joe spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

He picked his receivers one by one but wasn’t a jerk,



And raising his arms in a sign of victory,

the crowd knew they had witness some history;



And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;


He sprang to his team and gave a whistle,

The National Championship game was ours, we executed like missiles


But I heard O exclaim, to all the press writers —

“You’ve been really good fighters, Go Tigers!”