An open letter to goEMAW.com,
While my husband, and Staff Writer, Scotch McAngus takes great care in constructing an in-depth analysis for each and every KU sporting event, he felt the poetry of goEMAW’s editorial required a more feminine response. With great respect and thanks to Earnest Thayer, please enjoy.
Carson at the Pass
The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Wildcat fans that day;
The score stood 7 to 0, with but mere minutes more to play,
And when Jordan Webb fumbled, and James Sims did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.
A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, “If only Carson could but get off just a pass—
We’d put up even money now, with Carson on the grass.”
But Jake Laptad blitzed Carson, as did also Justin Springer,
And the former was a hulk, while the latter was a ringer;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy hung;
For there seemed but little chance of Carson getting the ball flung.
But then Kendall threw a cut block, to the wonderment of all,
And Thomas, the magnificent, managed to hang on to the ball;
And when the pile had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
The Wildcats had gained a yard, and the down was only third.
Then from five or ten Wildcat faithful there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the hill,
For Carson, mighty Carson, had another opportunity still.
There was ease in Carson’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Carson’s bearing and a smile lit Carson’s face.
And when he took his position, left hand on his center’s nuts,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt, man that kid had guts.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he as he barked out another play.
Five thousand tongues applauded drowning out what he had to say.
Then while the defensive line was biting at the bit,
Defiance flashed in Carsons eye, a sneer curled Carson’s lip.
And now the pig-skin ball came hurtling through the air,
And Carson stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy receiver the ball unheeded sped —
“Mother fu-,” uttered Carson. “Incomplete pass!” the field judge said.
From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
“Fourth down! Fourth Down!” shouted someone in the crowd;
And the Jayhawk fans all celebrated, they need only hold for one more down.
With a smile of Christian charity great Carson’s visage shone;
He called another play; he bade the game go on;
He barked out the cadence, a lineman jumped off-side;
Yellow flags filled the air, and Carson beamed with pride.
“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered “Fraud!”
But one scornful look from Turner and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that his team wouldn’t jump off-sides again.
The sneer has fled from Carson’s lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;
He steps up under center, ready to seal the Jayhawks fate.
And now the young man holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Springer’s blow.
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in Manhattan — mighty Carson’s been knocked out.
– Ginger L. McAngus
October 13, 2010