Twas the night before kickoff

‘Twas the night before Kickoff, and all ‘cross the team
Not a member was stirring, not even to scheme;
The safties were set by the front door with care,
In hopes that build season soon would be there;

The students were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of robots danced in their heads;
And Kamen in his denim, and mustachioed Flowers,
Had just settled down for a long 6 weeks of Power

When out in the lab there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away through the shop I flew like an untested auto routine,
Tore open the door and pushed past the machines.

The ringlight on the roll of retroreflective tape
Gave a radioactive glow to the linoleoum landscape,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But all of our robots, from many a year.

With a little old driver, so at home in this den,
I knew in an instant it must be St. Kamen.
More rapid than Segways his robots they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, ATLAS!, ATHENA!, now, HERMES!, HEPHAESTUS!
On, CYNDER! on BIRDBOT! on, GEORGE, TWITCH AND WALDO!
To the top of the shop! to the top of the school!
Now drive away! drive away! drive away all!”

As autonomous bots that before teleop fly,
When they meet with no obstacle, race (often awry),
So up to the airship the robots they flew,
With the kit full of parts, and St. Kamen too.

And then, in a ratcheting, I heard ringing on steel
The clatter and whirr of each little wheel
As I drew on my safties, and was turning around,
Down the boiler St. Kamen came with a bound.

He was dressed all in denim, making my fashion sense roil,
And his clothes were all smudged with machine grease and oil;
A bundle of motors he had flung on his back,
And I could hear their un-oiled click and their clack.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the totes; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger atop the estop button,
Giving a thumbs up, he climbed like a Victorian Tarzan;

He sprang to the airship, to his alliance he whistled,
And away they all sped, really they hustled.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove whence he came,
HAPPY KICKOFF TO ALL, AND Y’ ALL, IT’S A WATER GAME!