Holiday Spirit In Aggieland Arrives
With Coach Fran
By FRAN BLINEBURY
Stolen from the Houston Chronicle 12-17-2002
TWAS the week before Christmas, when
all through the house,
Not a chat line was stirring, to call
R.C. Slocum a louse;
The helmets were hung by the chimney
with care,
In hopes that Coach Franchione soon
would be there;
The Aggies were nestled all snug in
their beds,
While visions of BCS bowls danced in
their heads;
And Robert Gates in his kerchief and
Reveille in his cap,
Had just settled down for an
offseason nap,
When out on the quad there arose such
a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see
what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew in a
flash,
Tore open the shutters and waved wads
of cash.
The moon on the breast of the
new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of Corpsmen's boots
to objects below,
When, what to those wondering eyes
should appear,
But a Mercedes SL pulled by eight
tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver so lively
and grand,
They knew in a moment it must be
Coach Fran.
More rapid than scatbacks his
coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and
called them by name;
"Now, Shifty! Now, Sneaky! Now Tricky
and Sly!
On Fraud! On Deceit! On Hustle and
Fly!
"To the top of Kyle Field! To the top
of the wall!
This is the new place we'll take our
football!"
As dry leaves that before the wild
hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle,
mount to the sky,
So up to the athletic dorm the
coursers they flew,
With a trunk filled with millions and
Franchione, too.
And then, in a twinkling, Gates heard
on the roof,
The celebrating and dancing of one so
aloof.
As he drew in his head and was
turning around,
Down the chimney Coach Fran came with
a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, fancy
sable pajamas,
The tab they were bought on, surely
Alabama's;
A bundle of promises he had flung on
his back,
And looked like a used car salesman
opening his sack.
His face -- how it shined! His eyes
bright as rainbows!
The same look he had given the Tide,
Frogs and Lobos.
A droll little act, to prop up
programs so saggy,
He pulled out a 3x5 card and read:
"Gig 'em, Aggies!"
With the gold filigree pen he held
tight in his teeth,
He found the $1.7 million a year and
signed underneath.
He had a warm face and a round little
belly,
That will make him such a hit with
his show on the telly.
He was confident and cheery, a right
jolly old elf,
So endearing and obsequious, so full
of himself.
One wink of his eye and a twist of
his head,
Gave Mack Brown and UT something to
dread;
He'll land the blue chips, the right
kind of freshmen,
As long as A&M fills his account in
the Caymans.
He spoke the right words and went
straight to his work,
Riding in a stretch limo, another
nice perk.
What of those players, kids left
behind?
Where? Who? What? Oh, never mind.
And laying a finger aside of his
nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he
rose;
He sprang to his Mercedes, to his
team gave a whistle,
It was off to recruiting like a
heat-seeking missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove
out of sight,
Hullaboo caneck caneck! "Til I get Notre Dame to bite."
Merry Christmas to All
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