O HOT-DOG-MAN! my Hot-dog-man! our fearful trip is done,
The team has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The win is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Hotdog-man lies,
His seat is cold and dead.
O Hot-dog-man! my Hot-dog-man! rise up and hear the cheers;
Rise up--for you the baton is flung for you the (halftime) band trills,
For your Oscar Mejer’s and warm buns for you the students a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Hot-dog-man! dear friend!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that at the Big House,
You've face is cold and dead.
In case you missed it (or go to OSU) that was modern rendition of O Captain My Captain - a poem by Walt Whitman.
In honor of the many memories you've given me my good man. I will surely never forget you and your kindness of hot dog tossing (occasionally to the face). Thank you.