Twas the meeting before kickoff...

An e-mail myself and a few friends on the team tossed off. There are a few inside references but it is wicked sweet none the less.

Twas the meeting before kickoff, when all through the shop,
All the students were cleaning, and one used a mop.
The wrenches were sorted with a stylish flare,
With anticipation that Jon Meade would care.

The robots were parked for a well deserved rest,
The Boxtah robot was, of course, the best.
And Jon in his ski cap, and Steve in his lid,
When asked “Who will vacuum?” everyone hid.

When out in the lot there arose such a clatter,
The trash runners ran with their bags full of matter.
Away to the dumpster they flew with the trash,
Tore open the door for the waste they would stash.

The box sent from Dell went through sleet rain and snow
To get to the structure where all present yelled “whoa”.
The package was opened to reveal a surprise.
There a laptop lay before our wondering eyes.

With Andy our driver, so lively and quick,
He was doing no work and neither was Nick.
The benches were cleared with much thanks to Kyle,
Two shoes on his feet, on his face shown a smile.

“Now, Maximum Overdrive! Now, Green Reaper! now, Chain Reaction and
On, Boxtah! On, Birch Bot! On Tetra-Conductor and Glompers?”
To the regionals we go! To come in first place!
In the upcoming months, the clock we will race!

As dry snacks and pizza appear in the mind,
Our stomachs growl and our intestines bind.
So to the back room, the hungry kids flew,
With the box full of pretzels and tortilla chips too.

And then Jon lectured, and he lectured some more,
He lectured until the student’s heads hit the floor.
With the calendar ready, he read off the date,
The final result; our robot shipped in a crate.

The entrance was icy but it was nobody’s fault,
Mrs. Hoy saved the day with a bucket of salt.
The salt melted the ice, making it easier to walk,
So the students could leave come seven o’clock.

All the students are home now, enjoying their break,
But when they return, there will be robots to make.
They’re at home in bed catching up on their sleep,
Soon holidays will be here with presents to reap.

Come January the seventh a few students will go,
And when they return, the challenge they’ll know.
All round the world, Manchester is known,
For the one sole place where Woodie Flowers are grown.

For the next six weeks the teammates will struggle,
With all of the rules they now have to juggle.
The students reside in shop night and day,
It’s a time for work, not a time for play.

The ship date approaches with sweat on their brow,
We’re forced to cut weight lest the judges have a cow.
Driving time and 'bot checks; both need to be done.
It will be a rough six weeks but it sure will be fun.

When the robot is finished, it’s completely complete,
We’ll get off the bus to see teams we must beat.
We’ll see you all there to cheer on the team.
To win first place is the ultimate dream.

[edit: spelling]

Yes! Not only a decent poet doing a FIRST parody of that poem (mine was lackluster, to say the least) but another Maina’. W00t!

One tiny correction: It’s Dr. Woodie Flowers, not Dr. Woody Flowers.

Very well done. Thanks for sharing.

Here’s one I did last season before our regional

And here’s one from before kickoff 2005

And from before kickoff 2004