WITH blanket and binocular
And alums feeling jocular
I climb until I’m out of breath
Where Eskimos would freeze to death;
Our seats are on the one-yard line
(The 50 minus 49),
The fans applaud, the students cheer,
Out trots the player of the year.
For hours behind that jumping crew
I get a St. Bernard’s-eye view
Of men who try their best to hide
The football from the other side
(The T-formation’s mighty sly,
if they can’t see it, how can I?).
There goes the gun, it is to laugh.
It’s not the end, it’s just the half,
But will I miss the next game? No!
I’ll be right there by video.