Twas the night before Stagg Bowl and all through the site
Not a creature was stirring, ‘cept for us, up all night.
The stockings were hanging, all purple of course,
For Warhawks and Raiders, not Wildcats or Norse.
The Warhawks, Wisconsin: Respect they have earned.
The WIAC’s no pushover, Linfield learned.
The Raiders, Mount Union: They’ve been here before
With fans by the busload at the stadium’s door.
Two teams, highly ranked, No. 2, No. 5
The fans all a-waiting kickoff to arrive
With Walnut and Bronze and a title at stake
The players, they rested. The fans, still awake.
The party could last till the tailgate at dawn
Some camped by their trailers, some sat on the lawn.
This, Division III’s Titletown comes alive twice a year
For football and hoops, which already draws near.
The gates, they all opened, the fans poured inside.
They all took their seats with their eyes opened wide.
When at once, from the stadium there arose such a sound
That flew through the air as it rattled the ground
The teams, they both entered to the fireworks and bands.
Even those from Alliance couldn’t sit on their hands.
The players warming up for their moments of fame
Heard quarterbacks bark signals and call out their names.
On Beaver, on Stanley! On Schmitt and Lescyznski!
On Garcon, on Casto, on Kmic, Antonucci!
The game moves too quickly, the season’s near done
And someone in purple has come through and won.
The trophy awarded, the interviews heard
Leaves just the committee to have the last word.
So I shouted at them as the group left my sights:
Happy Stagg Bowl to all! Next year pay for more flights!