A W in the Book

Tonight is not for a title or trophy,

Just the last game of the season.

Tape the ankle, wear the colors,

Roll the neck, and pound the pads.

It’s time. Time for a W in the book.

Look at the faces next to you

And make an oath right now,

That you will step it up and play

Right up to the final whistle

And share a W in the book.

We have had our heartache

Plus, bruises, crutches and flags.

Yet, tonight if we play with heart

Deep from the fiber of our soul,

Forever will be a W in the book.

C’mon boys, rally round the ball.

Yell and cheer like champions.

Let the field echo with our cry

Let our spirit, unbroken, fly!

And put another W in the book.

Give Me A B!

Be it out on a chilly night

    or in a bright gymnasium,

Dressed in his olive drab jacket,

    this door-gunner veteran

    will stand to the crowd and yell,

“C’mon Bobcats! Let’s Get Excited!”

    And with a pump of a fist,

“Give me a B!”

How many time has he stood?

    How many time has he rallied?

Sometimes twice a game.

    He’s called out when we were ahead

    or during time out of a key play.

And, we have looked with hope

    to our Bobcat Man to lead.

“Give me a B!”

Today, we proudly stand together

    with a salute to him.

We are dressed in green

    to emulate his Bold, Brash,

    Bravado of a Barbaric cheer.

We are the Bobcat Nation!

    And with a fist held high, we yell,

"Give me a B!"

Fireworks

Ready, set, explode.

The squad bursts into motion.
"Whatever It Takes!"
rattles the fans.
Cheers shake the roof.

The mat pops with tumbles,
hand springs and cartwheels.
The Audience watches the
flash and sparks of spirit
erupting into pyramids
with flyers shooting
high into the air.

Sounds vibrate the gym.
A calliope of tucks, tumbles and toe touches are
pinnacled with elevators, extensions
and double twists
bursting skyward.
The crowd applauds the
choreographed motion of exuberant skill that
explodes and illuminates the mat
in a spectacular display
that is a rowdy, beautiful cheer
of Fireworks!

Set It Up

SET

Commands coach

As the guard crosses mid-court,

Arm raised, two fingers out.

Two, he yells, running the offense.

Forward cuts to the high post.

Center drops down the paint.

The ball passes left,

Reverse, swing it round.

Shuffle, step, pick is set.

Turn, bounce pass…..

IT,

However, had started on day one

When coach called all to the base line,

Running passing drills, lay-ups,

Conditioning with sprints.

Then it became the go to play,

The bread and butter routine,

Going for the bucket.

Only here, it varies with

Three on the clock, down by one.

UP

Goes the ball,

From the fingertips with patience

To the hoop with urgency;

A title on the line.

A touch on the glass,

Held breath, roll on the rim,

A cheer from the crowd.

Completes the play that took a season.

We Play the Game

Our silk we wear has a sash
               of grass stains and dirt

from battles royal.

Bruises blossom dark and purple,
               mixing with last week’s yellow
               and green to make our bouquet.
We wear a crown, but it is nothing
               more  than headband or prewrap

jeweled with sweat.

Soft slippers? No.
               Bright laces don our cleats,
               Double knotted, tough.
Our regal presence on the field
               is a bruised jaw set firm,
               tasting grass and grit.
Heart and Determination
               burns in our eyes,
               a sigil to our oath.
We are pledged to teamwork,
               a sisterhood of Go!
               Crusading for victory.
Yes, we are girls,
               Beautiful and Bold,
               And we play the game.