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True Blue Harold
by Kenneth Phillips

It was dastardly cold day in November,
a day us football fans will remember.
Old Barkley Hall and Old Harvard
Were giving their all in a pool of blood.

Though their arms and legs were all over the field,
our old Barkley would never yield.

The score had grown 40 to 40,
when our quarter back was caught being naughty.
With only one second left to go
and our honor at stake what ho?

The coach looked over towards the bench
with a look of blank dismay.
Only one man could he see.
Huddled in the hay, old faithful True Blue Harold.
Who had attended every game,
who from sitting on the bench,
Had splinters from the same.

"Go in at quarterback" he said
"And run and pass and knock em dead!"

Old Harold steamed out to the muddle
And called his team into a huddle.
Back to the one yard line to wait,
for he had called old number eight.

The center shot the ball way back,
and Harold caught it with a smack.
He faded heaved and with all his might,
he threw the ball clear out of sight.

Down the field he raced superbly,
just like at the Kentucky derby.
And when the ball fell from the sky,
Harold caught it on the fly.
And with one mighty lunge sublime,
Crossed the final last white line

In the trophy room so high,
like a diamond in the sky,
rests old Harold's football bonnet.
A relic of that fateful day,
When Harold won: Hooray! Hooray!

About the author:
I have lived in Gloucester Massachusettes for 95 years and have been writing short stories and poems to entertain my children and grandchildren. I love football and this particular poem I wrote in 1950 is about a classic ball game between Old Barkley Hall and Harvard. It has withstood the test of time and still entertains those who read it.