principalgriz
Member
Twas the night before Grizmas, when all through the house
Not a Cat fan was stirring, nor acting the louse.
The Griz wear was hung and ready to wear,
In hopes that all Griz fans would soon be there.
This year the Cat fans were all smug in their heads,
While visions of victory danced through their meds,
And mamma in her kerchief and I my Griz cap,
Knew that the Griz would win in a snap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see what was the matter.
Up the north end zone I flew like a flash,
And watched the Griz enter with a dominant dash.
The lights on the field gave a wonderful glow
To the events that transpired on the surface below.
When, what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a blowout win, many roars did I hear.
With a Cat killer’s ease, so lively and quick,
It was Jordan Johnson who made them look sick.
More rapid than Eagles his teammates they came,
Better than the Cats, and too many to name.
Now Wags! Now Van Ack! Now Matt Hermanson!
On Jones! On Canada! On Josh Janssen!
To the win you must go! To the Great Divide!
Griz fans are loyal and by your side!
As dry flakes that before the wild blizzard fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the Sky.
So up through Hell’s gate, the Grizzlies did fly,
With read option and blitzes so many did try.
And then, in a twinkling, the quarter did end.
The scoreboard did show, a message to send.
This is our turf, no Cats around.
Victory was swift and invariably sound.
They were dressed in maroon from head to toe
This group of men who vanquished the foe.
A bundle of fire they had flung on their back,
And they looked like champs, not one of the pack.
Matt’s eyes-how they twinkled! He did not tarry!
Three times he picked off the Bleskin cherry!
His Griz men could hardly contain their joy,
They nearly pummeled this not so young boy.
The jersey of Cat was in big Wags’ hand,
Not one of his speed rushes could they withstand.
We almost felt bad for that one little feller.
Cat fans could cry like when reading Old Yeller.
Then there was Jordy looking like his old self,
And I laughed and cheered in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave the Cat fans a whole lot to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And lit up the scoreboard, which just went berserk.
And laying his passes with feathery touch,
Then running the ball, which was just too much.
When the fireworks went off at 34-7,
We Griz fans felt like we had been to heaven.
The Cats gone another year, and now out of sight.
“Merry Grizmas to all, and to all a good-night”
Not a Cat fan was stirring, nor acting the louse.
The Griz wear was hung and ready to wear,
In hopes that all Griz fans would soon be there.
This year the Cat fans were all smug in their heads,
While visions of victory danced through their meds,
And mamma in her kerchief and I my Griz cap,
Knew that the Griz would win in a snap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the tailgate to see what was the matter.
Up the north end zone I flew like a flash,
And watched the Griz enter with a dominant dash.
The lights on the field gave a wonderful glow
To the events that transpired on the surface below.
When, what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a blowout win, many roars did I hear.
With a Cat killer’s ease, so lively and quick,
It was Jordan Johnson who made them look sick.
More rapid than Eagles his teammates they came,
Better than the Cats, and too many to name.
Now Wags! Now Van Ack! Now Matt Hermanson!
On Jones! On Canada! On Josh Janssen!
To the win you must go! To the Great Divide!
Griz fans are loyal and by your side!
As dry flakes that before the wild blizzard fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the Sky.
So up through Hell’s gate, the Grizzlies did fly,
With read option and blitzes so many did try.
And then, in a twinkling, the quarter did end.
The scoreboard did show, a message to send.
This is our turf, no Cats around.
Victory was swift and invariably sound.
They were dressed in maroon from head to toe
This group of men who vanquished the foe.
A bundle of fire they had flung on their back,
And they looked like champs, not one of the pack.
Matt’s eyes-how they twinkled! He did not tarry!
Three times he picked off the Bleskin cherry!
His Griz men could hardly contain their joy,
They nearly pummeled this not so young boy.
The jersey of Cat was in big Wags’ hand,
Not one of his speed rushes could they withstand.
We almost felt bad for that one little feller.
Cat fans could cry like when reading Old Yeller.
Then there was Jordy looking like his old self,
And I laughed and cheered in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave the Cat fans a whole lot to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And lit up the scoreboard, which just went berserk.
And laying his passes with feathery touch,
Then running the ball, which was just too much.
When the fireworks went off at 34-7,
We Griz fans felt like we had been to heaven.
The Cats gone another year, and now out of sight.
“Merry Grizmas to all, and to all a good-night”
