- ‘Twas the night before Training camp, when all through Mary land,
- Not a single fan was stirring, nor even The Band,
- The jerseys were hung by the trainers with care,
- In hopes that St. Harbaugh soon would be there;
- The fans were nestled in the stands on the sides,
- With visions of touchdown high-stepping, stride after stride,
- And Hollywood in his chain, and Andrews hand sign “Big Truzz,”
- Had settled our brains for a long season no fuss,
- When out on the field, there arose such applause,
- All fans standing in the bleachers, to see what the cause,
- Away to the endzone, it flew like a flash,
- Tore open the defense, and hauled in a deep pass,
- The sun overhead of the green grass so bright,
- Gave the lustre of scoreboard brilliance, the throw was airtight,
- When, what to fans wondering eyes should appear,
- But a new rookie class, eight Ravens first year,
- With a little old coach, known not to guffaw,
- I knew it a moment it must be Harbaugh,
- More rapid than trainers his coursers they came,
- And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
- “Now! Jackson, now! Andrews, now! Bateman and Dobbins,
- “On! Boykin, on! Marquise on! Edwards and Watkins;
- “To the first down! to the endzone to score!
- “Now break away! break away! break away once more!”
- As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly
- When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
- So up to the Castle-top, the Ravens they flew,
- With a sleigh full of touchdowns - and St. Harbaugh too:
- And then a cadence, I heard on the field,
- The prancing and blocking, a running lane revealed,
- As I wrote onto Twitter, looking upfield eyes wide,
- Down the field St. D’Alesandris, bellowing with pride,
- He was celebrating the blocks, from left tackle to right,
- Hollering compliments and guidance, before the line got onside,
- A helpful cue offered from St. Ver Steeg, to his tail back,
- He pointed instruction, where a defender had lapsed,
- Dobbins brow - how it furrowed, his tenacity a’plenty,
- The next play he bolted, the yards gained more than twenty,
- His cuts and a juke, his opponents ankles they shook,
- Followed instructions, as if read from a textbook,
- The blockers had sealed strong off to the right side,
- The lane opened again, blocking clearly bona fide,
- The run game was not the only impresser,
- As St. Wink’s defense boasted many successors,
- The coverage unit followed Jackson’s progressions each snap,
- And capitalized on each and every misstep,
- St. Wink’s defense had also tackled many for loss,
- He considered wearing the chain again, feeling like a boss,
- He spoke not a word, but went straight back to work,
- Watching as his defense sold the blitz like a clerk,
- And laying his finger aside of his nose,
- And giving a nod, once the snap had arose,
- The defense was honest, chasing Jackson so quick,
- Before referees whistled, their job a peacenik,
- But I heard ole Coach, podium mic booming on,
- Happy Training Camp to All, here’s where championship dreams spawn!
The Ravens Went Down to Georgia — A Kyle Barber Rendition