Stanford WSU Football And The Lives Of Cats

In sport football is the closest thing to all out war

Instead of missiles or planes through the skies spiraled footballs soar

Instead of tanks three hundred pound linemen grind away in the trench

Like war it must be endured in the heat, snow and rains that totally drench

The violence of human warriors colliding at top speed evokes from the faithful cheers

Even as more and more we read of concussion fears

Like war it is a game of inches and a game of luck

Like the fog of war, plans and odds quickly can be shucked

Not the size of the armies but rather who has the most heart and the most pluck

And who has the line that opens the holes wide enough for a Humvee truck

Like war it can be a game of defense that can bend but not break or flee

A lesson learned when on a Halloween night the Cougars at home met the Tree

If football was like bowling with pins being substituted for yards

Stanford’s hope for the Rose Bowl or National Playoffs it would have to discard

The Cougars piled up hundreds of yards that ended with threes but not a six

While the vaunted Cardinal offense early looked anemic, looked somewhat sick

Cats have nine lives but Cougar kickers that night had but five

Finally missing a sixth attempt in the rain to allow the Cardinal to survive

If a lover of the Tree, a great heart pounding blood pressure off the charts game

If a Cougar lover, great effort by a team that now expects to win no need to hang one’s head in shame

The Pac 12 does not get the respect compared to the SEC it should deserve

But the West Coast pro style offense is a thrill to observe

Stanford plays on Saturday in the stadium where buffaloes roam

After 114 plays in the field of roses against UCLA if cocky as a loser they may come home

Go Cardinal against the Buffaloes and then one more Bear and a flock of Ducks to slay

Then a hope that God is on the side of Christian and not on the side of the Irish and they are barred from the beating Temple when to Stanford in its last game they come to play

© November 2, 2015, Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet
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