Not a creature was stirring, not even a Bubba or Herbst;
The game socks were hung in the locker room with care,
In hopes that a State Title soon would be there;
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sacks and big gainers danced in their heads;
And mamma in her blue sock hat, and Marksberry in his SK cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the new turf field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to Meneffee Stadium to see what was the matter.
Away to the pressbox window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the rickety windows and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the BIG SK below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Randall Wagner and his beaming SK Pride,
The old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Mr. Pioneer.
More rapid than Scott Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Neal! now, Baldwin! Get To Blitzing!
On, Bustle! on Hansel! on, Schneider and Simpson!
To the top of the Pizza Box! At the Top of the Ville!
Now win boys ! win boys! Win boys all!"
As a Lawrence flying football in the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a playoff opponent, they rose to each challenge,
So up to the Courthouse top the coursers they flew,
With his Impala full of trophies, and Randall too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the field
The snarling and cheering of each Marksberry man.
As I readied by Nikon, and was turning around,
Down Madison, Randall came with a bound.
He was dressed his blue stadium coat with Red Pioneers,
And his clothes were massive as if the games had been cold;
A bundle of memories he held in his head,
He looked like a former mailman just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! At each playoff win!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! (Because it has been too dag-gone Cold!)
His boisterous yells encouraged previous many, "That’s Terrible He Yelled" so bold,
And the hair on his head was as white as the snow;
His stadium seat he held tight in his hand,
He was the best Pioneer fan ever, a right jolly friendly man,
Who has been there for SK through thick and thin;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know the boys had nothing to dread;
He cheered loudly when the Pioneers scored, and fisted his hand with each SK sack.,
And he filled all the games socks ; and Patted each Back,
And laying his finger aside of his SK cap,
And giving a nod, up Shaw Pike he rose;
He sprang to his Chevy, to his Pioneer boys gave a whistle,
And away they all flew in the Yellow Kenton County Fleet,.
But I heard him exclaim, as they drove to the Ville,
"We Believe Pioneers-Now Fight For SK!"
There can be no better high school sports supporter in the Commonwealth. Thanks for all of your support Randall. You are the best.
These lyrics seem to have gotten lost somewhere. Thanks to Sid for providing.
HERE COME THE PIONEERS
Here come the Pioneers, back them with our cheers
Our team will win tonight, cause their all right – FIGHT – FIGHT – FIGHT
Fight boys for SK, beat them the fair way
We’re proud to say that we’re from S-K-S
P – I – O – N – E – E – R – S – FIGHT – FIGHT – FIGHT
Repeat
Words and music by Robert Roden, former band leader at SK.
A "We Believe" was placed in front of the SK sign right before I took this shot.
