In honour of tonight's last regular-season San Francisco 49ers home football game at Candlestick Park.
'Twas two nights before Christmas, out at Candlestick Park,
And the football game started as day became dark.
The Faithful were hungry, their cheeks were all pinched,
In hopes that a playoff berth soon would be clinched;
The fans they were nestled all snug in their seats,
While the owners saw titles from up in their suites.
And Mom in her jersey, and I in my best,
Had just settled in for the last home contest,
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Down to the railing I flew with my beer,
Wide opened my eyes, and let out a cheer.
The lights shining down like a brilliant white flame,
Gave the luster of mid-day to the start of the game;
And off from the sidelines running out did arise,
My starting offense, they were massive big guys,
With a confident driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was St. Kaeper Nick.
More rapid than Falcons his coursers arrayed,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd out the plays:
"Now! Davis, now! Gore now! Iupati and Goodwin!
"On! Staley and Crabtree! on! Boldin and Dixon!;
"To the shifting formation! To the snap of the ball!
"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So down to the red-zone the coursers they flew,
With the squad in perfection and St. Kaepernick too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard the crowd roar
As they crossed past the goal-line and a touchdown was scored.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
the Gold Rush girls cheered and the foghorn did sound:
The din just got louder and bounced off of each rafter,
As Dawson’s sure foot put up through the point after;
The defence it smothered the Falcons attack,
And they look'd more ferocious with each tackle and sack:
Their eyes — how they focused! Their blocks- how they stung!
Their hits on Atlanta chimed like bells that were rung!
And the offense was run like a well-tuned machine,
Each sweep and off-tackle, every post route and screen;
Our special teams shone as we knew that they would,
As we stuffed their return-men and our field goals were good!
With their confident faces, and their gaits all a swagger,
They ran up the score as if twisting a dagger.
Harbaugh focused and manic, a right confident elf,
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He led them to win it, focused straight on his work,
When the game clock ran out he then turn'd with a jerk,
And pumping his fist, a victorious man,
And giving a nod, off the sideline he ran.
He sprung to midfield, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, as they ran out of sight —
Goodbye to the Stick, and to all a good night!
'Twas two nights before Christmas, out at Candlestick Park,
And the football game started as day became dark.
The Faithful were hungry, their cheeks were all pinched,
In hopes that a playoff berth soon would be clinched;
The fans they were nestled all snug in their seats,
While the owners saw titles from up in their suites.
And Mom in her jersey, and I in my best,
Had just settled in for the last home contest,
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Down to the railing I flew with my beer,
Wide opened my eyes, and let out a cheer.
The lights shining down like a brilliant white flame,
Gave the luster of mid-day to the start of the game;
And off from the sidelines running out did arise,
My starting offense, they were massive big guys,
With a confident driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was St. Kaeper Nick.
More rapid than Falcons his coursers arrayed,
And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd out the plays:
"Now! Davis, now! Gore now! Iupati and Goodwin!
"On! Staley and Crabtree! on! Boldin and Dixon!;
"To the shifting formation! To the snap of the ball!
"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So down to the red-zone the coursers they flew,
With the squad in perfection and St. Kaepernick too:
And then in a twinkling, I heard the crowd roar
As they crossed past the goal-line and a touchdown was scored.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
the Gold Rush girls cheered and the foghorn did sound:
The din just got louder and bounced off of each rafter,
As Dawson’s sure foot put up through the point after;
The defence it smothered the Falcons attack,
And they look'd more ferocious with each tackle and sack:
Their eyes — how they focused! Their blocks- how they stung!
Their hits on Atlanta chimed like bells that were rung!
And the offense was run like a well-tuned machine,
Each sweep and off-tackle, every post route and screen;
Our special teams shone as we knew that they would,
As we stuffed their return-men and our field goals were good!
With their confident faces, and their gaits all a swagger,
They ran up the score as if twisting a dagger.
Harbaugh focused and manic, a right confident elf,
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He led them to win it, focused straight on his work,
When the game clock ran out he then turn'd with a jerk,
And pumping his fist, a victorious man,
And giving a nod, off the sideline he ran.
He sprung to midfield, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, as they ran out of sight —
Goodbye to the Stick, and to all a good night!
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