Twas the Night before Volmas
“We really haven’t grown enough to be a championship team. We still have some time to get that going, but obviously we’re running out of time.” Tennessee coach Bruce Pearl Monday following the Vols’ 77-55 lost to Southern Cal and former UT coach Kevin O’Neill. It was the worst loss in Pearl’s five seasons at Tennessee.
Despite UT’s 99-78 win over North Carolina A&T Wednesday night, many of the Volunteer faithful are obviously restless about the team’s lack of enthusiasm headed into a New Year’s Eve date with Memphis.
So with all due apology to Clement Clark Moore …
’Twas the eve before Christmas, and throughout Big Orange land
The faithful were nervous, a big week was at hand.
Game tickets had been stuffed into stockings with care,
A victory in Memphis? Could Pearl get them there?
The Vols were nestled, all snug at their homes,
Ready for stuffing and another nap soon to come.
With Wayne in his kerchief, and Tyler in a sprawl,
The Volunteers looked lazy, not ready to ball.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They moseyed from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they moved like little snails
None prepared for the sight to assail
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to their tired, drooping eyes should appear,
But Coach Pearl and a goal and a bag labelled ‘fear.’
With a rod for a driver, and a whistle to his mouth
He let out a cry that rattled the South.
Frustrated and frazzled, his patience undone
He sweated through his shirt, screaming ‘boys, get it won.’
“Now J.P.!, Now Bobby! Now Scotty and Tatum!
Get out here Brian and someone wake Chism!
To the ends of this court, to the top of the hill,
You want motivation, I’ll run you I will!”
“Till you dry heave and pant and collapse in your sweat
Inspired you will be, I’ll get the best from you yet.”
So up and down the bleachers the players they flew
Shedding pounds and excuses and a mild curse or two.
And then, in a moment they fell to the floor
Their energy gone, they could run on no more.
With a shake of his head and a look of near hurt,
Pearl broke loose in rage and tore off his shirt.
Painted in orange from his head to his toe
He asked them all quietly “where’s this season to go?”
“Rank means nothing but a target on your back
You boys coasted to Cali, you didn’t even pack!”
The guys looked around, heads down in shame,
It was all true, they’d played down, no spirit, no game.
With a small quiet sigh and a look in the eye
One player shifted, then bounced up quite spry.
He ran to his coach and put up his hands,
‘I’ll defend them like this, you jolly little man.”
A smile on his face and fire in his gut
Pearl smiled and said, “Go earn your strut.”
Then another big arm joined the first to its right,
And one, then another, the Vols found their fight.
A leader had emerged and with a twitch of his head,
Tennessee was a team, and one again to dread.
“Run us and teach us, you maker of men,
Mold us the to be a top-seed again!
Bring on the Tigers, the Wildcats and Gators
The Gamecocks and Jayhawks and all UT haters!”
Pride back in their step and game on their ball
They loaded up for Memphis and the cross-state haul
And the fans heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to y’all, you can sleep well tonight!”
Marcus Fitzsimmons is a sportwriter for The Daily Times and just a bit too festive for the staff to tolerate any more this week. Please posts any witticisms or critisims to the online version of this column on www.thedailytimes.com