By LINDA SINCLAIR
T’was the night before Madness and all through The Nation
Not a creature was stirring, not even in Bryant Station.
The nets were hung from the rafters with care,
in hopes that Number Nine would soon be there.
The fans were all settled and waiting in line
while visions of Number Eight 2012 flashed in their heads.
And mama in her parka and I in my sweats
had just settled in line for our quest.
When out on Vine St. there a rose such a clatter,
I sprang from my place to see what was the matter.
Away to the street I flew in a flash,
in hopes that my car had not been smashed.
The moon on the street of new lights aglow
gave the luster of mid-day of objects to behold.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
A big blue bus and 16 glorious team players,
With an Italian driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a minute it must be Coach Cal and his picks.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Marcus, now James, on Aaron or are you Andrew
and Jarrod, on Andrew/Aaron who cut your hair?
on Willie, Dakari, Derek, and Julius
on Alex, EJ and Dominique, now Jon.
Now on Tod, now Sam and on Brian to the court.
We are top of the polls, we will show those doubters
we will rise from the ashes and be the best shouters.
Now dribble, now drive, now pass, and now score.
Do it from the top of the key, from the corner of the floor.
As I saw the dribble, the drive, the pass and the score
I looked in awe and I knew what would soon be in store.
Our prayers would be answered and we’ll shoot for the moon.
Then opponents will scramble and UK will be on top with #9 soon.
Don’t doubt our loyalty, don’t deny our tradition
WE are back on the road with another new mission.
We will be loyal, we will be true Blue, we will be firm,
UK is back and let those other schools squirm.