St. Rich Rod's Day Speech from Henry V
If we are mark'd to lose, we are enow
To do our college loss; and if to win,
The fewer fans, the greater share of glory.
Rod's will! I pray thee, wish not one fan more.
By Bo, I am not covetous for rank,
Nor care I who doth rise upon our loss;
It yearns me not if men my colors wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet glory,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, brothers, wish not one more fan.
Rod's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one fan more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Wolverines, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this season,
Let him depart; his transfer shall be made,
And fare to Lansing put into his purse;
We would not lose in that fan's company
That fears his fellowship to lose with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Rich Rod.
He that survives this seasons, and comes home whole,
Will stand taller when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Rich Rod.
He that shall live this year, and see old age,
Will yearly on the season opener toast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Opening Day.'
Then will he strip his spirit and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I earned on Saturdays.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What Wolverines did that day. Then shall their names,
Familiar in our mouth as household words-
Tate the King, Hemingway and Matthews,
Koger and Shoelace, Graham and Roh-
Be in their righteous moves freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good fan teach his son;
And opening day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we Wolverine fans;
For he to-day that cheers this team with me
Shall be my brother; be he formerly a state fan,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And Wolverines everywhere who missed the game
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their fanhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That cheered with us upon Rich Rods day.
To do our college loss; and if to win,
The fewer fans, the greater share of glory.
Rod's will! I pray thee, wish not one fan more.
By Bo, I am not covetous for rank,
Nor care I who doth rise upon our loss;
It yearns me not if men my colors wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet glory,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, brothers, wish not one more fan.
Rod's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one fan more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Wolverines, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this season,
Let him depart; his transfer shall be made,
And fare to Lansing put into his purse;
We would not lose in that fan's company
That fears his fellowship to lose with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Rich Rod.
He that survives this seasons, and comes home whole,
Will stand taller when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Rich Rod.
He that shall live this year, and see old age,
Will yearly on the season opener toast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Opening Day.'
Then will he strip his spirit and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I earned on Saturdays.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What Wolverines did that day. Then shall their names,
Familiar in our mouth as household words-
Tate the King, Hemingway and Matthews,
Koger and Shoelace, Graham and Roh-
Be in their righteous moves freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good fan teach his son;
And opening day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we Wolverine fans;
For he to-day that cheers this team with me
Shall be my brother; be he formerly a state fan,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And Wolverines everywhere who missed the game
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their fanhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That cheered with us upon Rich Rods day.
September 6th, 2009 at 11:09 AM ^
One of the coolest fucking things ever.
A shining example of why Michigan football, and MGoBlog, are deserving of loyalty and passion.
Bad ass.
September 6th, 2009 at 11:49 AM ^
3 UM nerds
September 6th, 2009 at 11:11 AM ^
+1 to any literary references of this awesomeness.
September 6th, 2009 at 11:55 AM ^
Very apropos, +1.
September 6th, 2009 at 12:43 PM ^
Loved it.
September 6th, 2009 at 2:06 PM ^
Many a time and oft
In the Renaissance Center you have rated me
About my style, and my recruiting:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever, an out of stater,
And spit upon my West Virginian gaberdine,
And all for use of that coaching talent which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to then: you come to me, and you say,
RichRodlock, we would have victories; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my spread formations,
And foot me, as you would spurn a Buckeye fan
Over your threshold; victories is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a backwoods dog talent? is it possible
A non-Michigan man can win a BCS bowl game? or
Shall I bend low, and in a graduate assistant’s tremor,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness,
Say this, —
Fair sir, you called for my firing on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me in the press; another time
You call'd me — un-family like; and for these courtesies
I'll give you thus much victories?
-----
*We NEED to Michigan-ize the entire Shakespeare library. Like toot-sweet.
September 6th, 2009 at 2:59 PM ^
Though, I'd like to have the tragedies be less relevant this year.
September 6th, 2009 at 4:12 PM ^
No comedy of errors, please!
September 6th, 2009 at 2:33 PM ^
Fantastic!
September 6th, 2009 at 8:04 PM ^
WEIS:
Let me have men about me that are fat;
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights:
Yond RichRod has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.
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