It's Christmas in February

Sometimes things get crazy on the Insiders Premium board ... crazy enough to drive a man to poetry. Here's a little ditty from D_Razorbacker. Enjoy!

Twas The Night Before Signing Day

Twas the night before national signing day, when all through the state

All the Hog fans were stirring, they just couldn't wait.

The fax machines were idle, full of paper, handled with care

In hopes that national signing day would soon be there.

The recruits were nestled, all snug in their beds,

While visions of greatness danced in their heads.

And Mama in her red pjs, and I in my Hoghat,

Had just logged on to for one last chat.

When out on the net arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my chair, stunned at the matter.

Away to the bathroom I flew real quick,

Tore open the cabinet, feeling real sick.

The word from Rivals claimed OU for Byrdsong,

But I knew if it wasn't from Otis, it had to be wrong.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

Words on the screen made everything so clear.

With a little word processor, so exhaustively he worked,

I knew in a moment it must be Otis Kirk.

More rapid than Newberg, the recruits they came,

and he typed and typed, calling them by name:

"Now Ugoh, now Whitmore!

Now, Byrdsong and Vickiel!

On, Baker! On, Lonnie!

On, Dedrick and Washington!

To the top of the conference!

To the top of the BCS!

Now sign with us! Sign with us!

Sign with us, yes!

When the leaves turn, and before the wild Hurricane plays,

The coaches see no obstacle, with nothing left to say.

So up to the stadium the recruits they hosted,

Coaches full of hopes, of fans they boasted.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw on the screen,

The rumors and committing of ‘primos' was keen.

As I shook my head and blinked my eyes,

In the chat Otis Kirk would tell no lies.

He was telling of players, of future Piggies,

And typing fast, said some were ‘biggies'.

A bundle of Top 100s he flung from his brain,

And he was just starting, driving me insane.

This one was fast, that one quick,

I just knew they could all punt, pass and kick.

His biceps were rounded, his legs bowed

He runs 40 in 4.2, his gpa was 4-point-oh.

The pigskin he held tight in his arm,

and the coach said he caused opponents' harm.

He had a broad face and nothing of a belly,

A six-pack, not a bowl-full of jelly.

He wasn't chubby nor plump, an ornery right guard,

And Otis said signing him wouldn't be that hard.

A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He said not a word, but went right back to work,

And filled the fans with hopes, but stopped with a jerk.

Thinking ahead, beating the Vols, winning the ‘Boot'

And typing the words, ‘secret recruit'.

He sprang from his chair, the coaches he did call,

And asked them: "How good is this haul?"

I could've sworn I heard him shout with glee,

"Go Hogs Go! Pig sooie!"


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