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This is a poem I found that was written
just before the 10 seniors of 1969 graduated. Apparently, I
thought the guard would fold once we had such a great graduation
removal of talent. (That didn’t happen) We had a silly paper
that was called the ROLOC DRAUG and all of us starting calling
ourselves by our names reversed (ie: Nohj Llah, Trebor, etc)
It names judges I don’t remember anymore and people I haven’t
thought about in years. Apparently, we called ourselves ‘Agoonis’
a self-deprecating term. It’s unfinished but shows a lot about
how cocky we were and how we thought ‘losing’ was the judges
fault. With apologies to all, here is the ABCs of color guard
as written in June 1969.
A is for Agoonis
The greatest of them all
Until they lose ten seniors
Early in the fall.
B is for the Bombshell
A six-spin toss we do
I have a feeling next year
This may be cut to two.
C is for the color
The word preceding guard
I couldn’t do a rhyme for ‘C’
So this one’s not too hard.
D is for Dennis
To him I dedicate this space
Without him our buckets
Would have no rightful place.
E is for the energy
These boys expel each day
Without their mighty muscles
They might just fade away.
F is for the mighty flags
The best part of our guard
It looks so nice and simple
But actually it’s pretty hard.
G is for the many guards
Whether short or tall
We love each one, because without them
We’d have no fun at all
H is for the mighty Hardy
And his penalties assessed
If he makes it through next year
Believe me guys, he’s blessed.
I is for the Irony
Of results which are no fun
Because they seldom follow
The way each show is done.
J is for the Judges
God love each and every one
I’m only saying that right now
Because I haven’t got a gun.
K is for the girls of Kearney
They’re better each year on the floor
But as for their utmost goal
They’ll never beat our score.
L is for the losers
Without we’d have no show
I don’t think we ever lost one
But next year I don’t know.
M is for the Money
We spend to buy our meal
To pay for the hamburg
That tastes just like our heel.
N is for the Nationals
The biggest every year
More practice and more money
Is added to our fear.
O is for Ovations
The cheering of the fans
For fantastic flagwork
Or the Confederate of Dan’s.
P is for the penalties
Of these we have a few
All by good old Hardy
But most we didn’t do.
Q is for the Quiet of the
crowd
During final scoring
It’s not all that exciting
Most fans are found snoring.
R is for the Rifles
I dedicate this space
If one more mocks a flag again
I’ll smash them in the face.
S is for Score, Sherburne
and State
Of these let me say a word
I’ll bet our first one
Will beat the second at the third.
T is for the Trips we take
Like Oswego and Toronto
But always when we win these gigs
We must get on the bus ‘Pronto’.
U is for the Undertakings
Like white washing some plow
Like car washes or truck baths
Or page-nining fifty thou.
V is for the Variety
You must put in your show
Like twirling flags and posting
And rifles we do throw.
W is for Whitley
The man behind our wins
He not only drives the bus for us
He also forgives sins.
X is for X-Large
The size of our ego's
Or maybe it was
The size of our smiles
As we marched off with the trophy.
Y is for Yelling
Jim Allen's favorite rite
He not only had the rite
He was always more then right.
Z is for Zero
The times we finished last
As my memory serves me right
We finished first a lot
I only wish we had those trophies
But zero's what we got.
X,Y and Z courtesy of Nad Yennik
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