FreakyDeke
picked a dumb moniker
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I aquired an 1894 Gopher yearbook today (see attached pic) and this poem is in it. I thought this was humorous for those of us that know ladies like this.
College Girl on Foot Ball
She talked to me of foot ball:
She said she just adored the game,
She raved about the players
Who had made themselves a name.
And when I boldly questioned
If she understood it all,
She gave me just one squelching look,
That made me feel quite small.
So when the great (?) Ann Arbor played
Against the “U” last fall,
I blew myself and took the girl
To see the boys play ball
I thought I’d be unselfish
And endure it just for once,
Though I was sure she’d bore me
With questions of a dunce.
The game grows interesting,
Our “U of M” may beat.
The maiden grows excited
And rises to her feet.
I hear a voice familiar
-That voice I surely know-
A voice that’s full of spirit,
Shouting “Go it! Philly, Go!”
I turn to see the maiden,
Her eyes are shining bright;
How eagerly she watches,
Her tiny hands clasped tight.
Forgetting all about her,
She scarcely breathes at all,
Until with satisfaction
She cries, “We’ve got the ball.”
And then she talked of “touch downs,”
Of “dashing through the line,”
And when it came to “rushing”
She had that part down fine.
She spoke of “punts” and “tackles”
She always knew a “foul;”
In fact she showed herself to be
As wise as any owl.
And – well – I was a wiser
Indeed a sadder lad,
For she won all the wagers,
And I lost all I had.
I sent the gloves and candy.
A check for her new bonnet,
Now – when she champions a team
I put my money on it.

College Girl on Foot Ball
She talked to me of foot ball:
She said she just adored the game,
She raved about the players
Who had made themselves a name.
And when I boldly questioned
If she understood it all,
She gave me just one squelching look,
That made me feel quite small.
So when the great (?) Ann Arbor played
Against the “U” last fall,
I blew myself and took the girl
To see the boys play ball
I thought I’d be unselfish
And endure it just for once,
Though I was sure she’d bore me
With questions of a dunce.
The game grows interesting,
Our “U of M” may beat.
The maiden grows excited
And rises to her feet.
I hear a voice familiar
-That voice I surely know-
A voice that’s full of spirit,
Shouting “Go it! Philly, Go!”
I turn to see the maiden,
Her eyes are shining bright;
How eagerly she watches,
Her tiny hands clasped tight.
Forgetting all about her,
She scarcely breathes at all,
Until with satisfaction
She cries, “We’ve got the ball.”
And then she talked of “touch downs,”
Of “dashing through the line,”
And when it came to “rushing”
She had that part down fine.
She spoke of “punts” and “tackles”
She always knew a “foul;”
In fact she showed herself to be
As wise as any owl.
And – well – I was a wiser
Indeed a sadder lad,
For she won all the wagers,
And I lost all I had.
I sent the gloves and candy.
A check for her new bonnet,
Now – when she champions a team
I put my money on it.
