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When I manage in the day,
the boys devised a kick-off play,
a yard ahead, then five behind,
then lofted skyward down the line.
You see, we had this kid named Khoi
(if e’er there was a speedy boy . . . ),
could miss a tackle, go to ground,
then catch his man for one more round.
He ran the hundred: twelve point two,
and took off when the whistle blew,
so that, with service any worth,
was there before the ball touched earth.
Maybe I’m romanticizing,
but it’s still so tantalizing;
didn’t always win possession,
always made quite an impression;
told them we were in the hunt,
and we had two feet out in front.
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