Wolverine Flashback | by Jay

The Ballad of Ricky & Reggie

Let me tell ya story 'bout a boy named Ho
Poor Cavanaugh kicker, only played for interhall
Then one day he got a call, it was old Coach Lou
And before he knew what happened, he was wearin' gold and blue

(Reggie, that is. From Hawaii. Five-foot-fiiiive.)

The scrappy Fightin' Irish had a problem to behold
the Wolverines were comin' and they'd try and knock 'em cold
Reggie strapped his helmet on amid the ballyhoo
and out from the tunnel roared the Maize and Blue.

(Michigan, that is. Our old nemesis. Annnn Arbor.)

Well we tried to run and tried to pass and couldn't seem to score
Until a kid from Pennsylvania opened up the door
the Irish O that day was as quiet as a mouse
so Ricky being Ricky took a punt to the house

(Watters, that is. Elbow pads and towels. "Heiiiir apparent.")

Reggie marched onto the field and lined up for the try
Counted off his paces back, and two more to the side
Suddenly he twisted 'round and threw his arms way out
Magic fingers did the trick, the Irish gave a shout.

(It's up, and It's good. Right down central. Threeee points.)

Reggie booted two more kicks and split the poles between
Yet the Skunkbears had the lead, 17-16.
A minute left, would magic fingers work just one more time?
Irish faithful said a prayer -- Reggie was sublime.

(Perfect, that is. Four field goals, and an extra point. Alo-haa.)

Now Michigan got one last shot to move it down the field
but past the 30 yard line, the Irish would not yield
on 4th down a kick went up and towards the Irish net,
but drifted right into the night -- thank God for Mike Gillette.

(Close shave, that is. Holdin' our breath. Irish win!)

Now Ricky being Ricky, his football career was grand
And Reggie, he's a doctor, fixin' folks across the land
But on that night in eighty-eight they sailed the Irish ship
And in the end, come New Year's Day -- a National Championship.

(Eleventh, that is...aaand countin')