When he was but two moons old
It was by seven owls foretold
That Knockalod Eulalia
Would bring one home for Bazzlenoor
If you do not know the story
Tis a land long starved for glory
Waiting, wondering, wishing for
The chosen one of Badger lore
But now nine long seasons have passed
with knockalod still ringless, alas,
and the echoes of his promise last:
“Not one, not two, not three, not four”
Indeed he promised many more
Each day he dons the black and gold
Despite whispers (“too slow, too old”)
That after all is said and done
He was not the chosen one
But now in his final season
So close to prophetic treason
He has given fans a reason to dream and cheer once more.
Will he fulfill his destiny
Forsoothed in myth and badgerlore?
Do you, deep down, believe
He’ll bring one home for Bazzlenoor?