A Visit From St. Vincent

A Visit From St. Vincent

‘Twas Super Bowl night and all teams in the League,
saw the Pack rise to glory, despite wounds and fatigue.
The ‘Niners, like fog, they had flat blown away;
while Dallas, de-starred, became Panther prey.
In Lambeau, the Pack made the Panthers eat grass,
and tonight, in New Orleans, it had all come to pass.
.
For up in the Northland, revived from the tundra,
arose Packers of legend, led by Brett the Boy Wonder.
He came from Down South, in the mold of Bart Starr,
a rifle-armed leader who would take his team far.
And like that great Starr, he’d a mind like a razor,
but the ball that Brett threw sliced up teams like a laser.

His father coached in the land of the Cajun,
so Brett took to football like a war he was wagin’.
He’d lost half his gut, but raised on true grit,
he’d learned from his dad to never say ‘quit.’
This night a new coach now stood by his side,
and guided his hand, and watched him with pride.

His name was Mike Holmgren, a genial Swede,
but a grid-iron Rommel who made good teams bleed.
He’d walked many sidelines, his clipboard in hand,
then strode into Lambeau and taken command.
He measured his words as he measured his men,
and gave them new life, like a first down and ten.

The men he had gathered were much like himself,
with a keenness to win sniffed out by Ron Wolf.
The Pack came together, playing as one,
and bonding as brothers to get the job done,
they laid claim to Lambeau and leaped in the stands,
as rival teams played right into their hands.

The great bowl of Lambeau encircled their field,
ringed by such heroes as never would yield
a yard of that turf, a foot, or an inch;
but would squeeze out a win or win like a cinch.
Names like Hutson and Hornung, Nitschke and “Blood;”
men who fought hard for honor in snow, ice, and mud.

When other teams crawled into holes they called “domes,”
the Pack kept their roots and Lambeau their home.
Past wars called to mind–waged on grass with rare mettle–
Green and Gold proudly they wore into battle.
Their fans never wavered, seeing their best and their worst,
but filled Lambeau Field in last place or first.

And even in times they were down on the mat,
none ever doubted that the Pack would be back.
The creed of St. Vincent said ”Win and stand tall,”
and so Brett urged them on, “To New Orleans, y’all!’
Like a season-long blizzard they buried teams deep,
these Packers whose fame was the great Green Bay Sweep,

now rose up to conquer with a champion’s right
to take home the Ring and their Trophy that night
named for Lombardi of the first Bowl and best,
looking down proudly as His Pack stood the test,
and brought back the Glory and made real the Dream
to continue the story of the Gold and the Green.

And we heard Him exclaim on that fabulous night:
“You’re one helluva team, now run to daylight!”

Bob the Bard