Yesterday was the 49 year anniversary of the demise of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
May the 29 crewmen RIP.
Seems an appropriate time to revisit this:
The Wreck of the Patrick Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from Parseghian on down
Of the program that survived the Dark Ages.
The Woke it is said, never gives up her dead
When the Twitterverse foams and rages.
With a load of hubris, much more than Paul Chryst
Coach Patrick Fitzgerald towered mighty.
That good man we knew was a bone to be chewed
When the allegations turned unsightly.
The coach might have lied to spare Purple Pride
As crimes were alleged in Wisconsin
As sports scandals go, it was bigger than most
With rumors of sexual hazing.
Concluding some terms with an investigative firm
Schill left it at two weeks in August
Then a bit later on when the Daily weighed in
Could it be the sanctions were too modest?
(eerie instrumental)
The reporters at large found a tattle-tale source
And stoked outrage to the point of ignition.
And every fan knew, as the captain did too
'Twas the vow of the kid reaching fruition.
Schill began to hesitate as the AD lay in wait
When the tales of malfeasance went viral.
On the whiteboard was writ Shrek’s List for some twit
As the allegations continued to spiral.
When Monday arose the car wash was exposed
With new tales of a racist demeanor.
Around 5pm Schill met with the big man
And said, "Pat, you no longer work here."
The Tweets soon went out as others did shout
That Coach faced existential peril.
And later that night when his office went dark
Came the wreck of the Patrick Fitzgerald.
Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the outrage machine goes manic?
The defenders all say that Fitz could have stayed
Had Schill not succumbed to panic.
He might have held fast and confirmed a bold stance
That the beloved coach could remedy his failings.
But all that remain are the faces and the names
Of the young men who may soon be bailing.
The Badgers fight on, The Hawkeyes take flight
In the comfort of a placated fandom
The Fleckster steams into a young man's dreams
His sales tactics peddle League stardom
And more to the east, there’s the Columbus beast
That takes in whomever she pleases.
And the Wolverines go as the khaki coach bellows
Promises of conference titles.
In an aging edifice on Central they played
It’s a house that looks back to the future.
The numbers up high are there to signify
The great ones who fought through the dark years.
The legend lives on from Carl Richardson on down
To the big kid who won the Nagurski
Purple fandom, I say, never foresaw the day
When Pat Fitzgerald left NU too early.
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