Yowza, Yowza, Yowza
Come one, come all. Come on in the Big Time Big Top Big Tent. It’s a three — count ’em, three — ring circus. Each one full of incredible feats of daring do, leaping, twirling, whirling, acts of prestidigitation that will amaze and astonish you.
In one ring, no mere band of bearded ladies. No, no, no. We’ve got rivalry day dance down of the national championship dance teams. One in red, one in blue, swirling and twerking in unison, simultaneously, loser leaves town.
In another ring, yo mama, yo papa, trash talk smackdown. A pushing, shoving whirligig of verbal testosterone. Before, during and after the game. Make sure the kiddies have plenty of cotton candy mom and dad, to eat and fill their ears.
And in the main ring, rock ’em, sock ’em, take this, take that, anything you can do I can do better battle of pigskin. Seven, count ’em, seven lead changes. Nobody will want to leave your seat until the final horn sounds.
It’s Turkey Day Weekend Rivalry Football, the way Bronco Nagurski, Walter Camp, Woody, Bo, the Bear and the Pipe meant for it to be.
Yowza, Yowza, Yowza, come one, come all.