I currently live a little over an hour from Oxford, and I have yet to see a single Rebear. Colonel Reb and references to the Rebels crop up quite frequently, but there is not a Rebear in sight. Perhaps in Athens this weekend, those fortunate enough to be there for homecoming will get to see the elusive Rebear. I considered writing a celebratory "We Beat Florida" poem using Beowulf, but I decided that I had already written a bit about what happened in the original. A defensive hero did step up, didn't he? He did motivate the defense, and the defense did indeed maul the Gators. I think Beodawg looked something like this:
Beodawg celebrates his great victory with his men and supporters.
In lieu of doing more Beodawg, I decided that I needed to move forward as the team needed to move forward; as delightful as beating the 2nd-ranked Gators was, we needed to focus on the next game. I
Googled "bear poetry" searched the depths of my poetic mind and eventually decided to do Robert Frost's poem, "The Bear." There isn't any grand connection I know of between Robert Frost and bears or Ole Miss, but I did read that Robert Frost once visited a place called the Great Dismal Swamp before going on to have a long, storied career. With apologies to Robert Frost:
Rebear feels both arms of the Tree wrap around him
and falls on down as Jarvis Jones does pound him.
He fumbles the football, kisses it goodbye
from flat on his back looking up at the sky.
Rambo grabs the rock from off of the turf,
protected from tackles by Big Bad John's girth,
whose great weight creaks the bones inside linemen's bodies
as he falls o'er and down on the Hotty Toddies,
leaving on one hash mark a spot of grease.
Such is the D-caged progress of Rebear.
Rebear's backfield makes Dawgs' Gurshall feel free;
their touchdowns bring joy to you and to me.
The Bulldogs will put Rebear in a cage,
and the D will play with an outward rage,
repelling all Rebear endzone attempts
and viewing all his efforts with contempt.
The feeble yap and yammer of haters
will be stopped by team that beat the Gators
when the Dawgs were under the microscope
and many fans had given up all hope
and expected Gators to beat the spread.
But if the Dawgs rest due to swollen heads,
then Rebear could cause them to wet the bed
through sixty-odd minutes of game, to wit,
he could easily make the Dawgs look like...
Let's step back from figurative ledges
and let the game play out ‘tween the hedges.
(And drink plenty of cold beverages.)
While this poem is written with tongue in cheek,
I must admit this is a different week
and that a victory Rebear could sneak
if the Dawgs have already reached their peak.
Let us hope our play is not pathetic,
and that we don't need liquid anesthetic.