Saybrook

When out at the Whale there arose such a din,/Mighty ole' Saybrook started the year with a win./Next to the rink, we laced up our skates,/Broke open the game, ten goals, out of the gates./The mark in the win column, the team has to show,/To Miles, Paul, Thomas, and Whips—we say way to go,/When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,/But our Naples challengers, covered in beer.

So many hoopsters, we make other teams weep,/I knew in a moment it must be a sweep./More rapid than Silliman's, our players they came,/Our captains whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;/"Now, Taylor! now, Ahern! now, Weissler and Kelly!/On, Nussbaum! on Tisun! on, Rishi and Scotty!/To the top of the standings! Saybrook take a bow!/And raise the cup! Raise the cup! Raise the cup now!"

Also up to the gym the women's hoop-sters flew,/With Carla and Phoebe, and Annette Saunooke too./And then, in a twinkling, I heard right next door/the men's volleyball team—they ran up the score./As Nick was a-serving, and Sasha was setting,/If they keep playing like that, on Saybrook I'm betting./He was dressed like a reptile, from his head to his broken foot,/The Sillimander was sad, St. Saybrook filled him with soot;

Although our polo captain may be quite smelly,/ The team will be shaking and baking like a bowlful of jelly./With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,/It's our big, tall goalie other teams have to dread;/For the winter sports, all it takes is a whistle,/And Saybrook will fight with the strength of a missile./We will make Calhoun exclaim "OK! We give up!"/"Merry Christmas to all, bring on the Tyng Cup!"

(Compiled by Major Henry Livingston, Jr., edited by our departing friend and the scoreboard).

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