Cloned
Begging for Bega
- Aug 25, 2003
- 79,409
- 65,344
GDT TUNES
-
Preseason Game #1
Oilers @ Flames
Sept 17 @ 7 PM MST
Oilers Lines:
TBA
Flames Lines:
TBA
-
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our Oilers dead.
In the offseason there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of hockey blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the golden stick; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ice.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest Oilers.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Connors,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their sticks for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to play. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in Edmonton, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'Goal for Connor, Edmonton, and Saint Gretzky!'
-
Preseason Game #1
Oilers @ Flames
Sept 17 @ 7 PM MST
Oilers Lines:
TBA
Flames Lines:
TBA
-
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our Oilers dead.
In the offseason there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of hockey blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the golden stick; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ice.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest Oilers.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Connors,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their sticks for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to play. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in Edmonton, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'Goal for Connor, Edmonton, and Saint Gretzky!'
