A visit from Coach Harbaugh...

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore, for my hack edit job…

 

A Visit from Coach Harbaugh -

 

'Twas the night before KICKOFF, when all thro' the house

Not a creature was stirring, FROM HERE TO THE BIGHOUSE;

The JERSEYS were SET by the COOLERS with care,

In hopes that COACH HARBAUGH soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

while visions of TOUCHDOWN DANCES in their heads,

And Momma in her NIKES, and I in NEW JUMPMAN cap,

Had just settled our brains for a LATE SUMMER’S nap‍—‌

When out on the lawn there arose such a FUSS,

I sprang from the bed, TO THE SHOUTING, “WHO’S GOT IT BETTER THAN US?!”.

Away to the window I flew like DENARD,

Tore open the shutters, and LOOKED AT THE YARD.

The moon on the breast of the LAWN DEW A’GLOW,

Gave the luster of GAMEday to objects below;

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a TACKLING SLED, and eight PLAYERS IN GEAR,

With a SHIRTLESS driver, WITH BIG BUTT, YET SLIM,

I knew in a moment it must be COACH JIM.

More RABID THAN WOLVERINES his PLAYERS they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name:

"Now! BELL, now! JOHNSON, now! ANTHONY and WILSON,

"On! TURNER, on! GREEN, on! HILL-GREEN and COLSON;

"To the top of the porch! FROM SCHEMBECHLER 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 house-top the PLAYERS they flew,

With the BAG FULL OF FOOTBALLS—‌and COACH JIM too:

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The HIGH-STEPPING and JUKING of each CLEAT’D hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney COACH JIM came with a bound:

He was dress'd all in NIKE, from his head to his SHOE,

And his clothes were all SWAGG’D WITH MAIZE AND WITH BLUE;

A bundle of BALLS was flung on his back,

And he look'd like a TWITTER’ER just BLOWING HIS STACK:

His eyes‍—‌how they twinkled! His SCOWL, HOW SCARY,

His cheeks were like roseBOWLS, his nose like a cherry;

His CONFIDENT GRIN was drawn up like a bow,

And the GAMEPLAN DRAWN UP, TO VANQUISH A FOE;

The stump of a SHARPIE he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke OUT HIS EARS encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a YOUTHFUL face, and a PALE WHITE belly

That shook when he laugh'd, like a bowl full of jelly:

He COULD STILL THROW AND JUMP, a right jolly old QB,

And I CHEER’D when I saw him, in spite of ME;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

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

THEY SAID HE HATED RECRUITING, THEY CALLED HIM A jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He HUDDLED HIS DUDES, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew, DOWN MAIN STREET, like the down of a thistle:

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight‍—‌

GO BLUE to all, and to all a good night.