What’s he that wishes so, that we had a Cam Newton? No, my fair classmate; If we are marked to lose, we are enough To do our school loss; and if to live, The fewer great men, the greater share of honor. Saban’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for victories, Nor do I care who plays for the SEC; It doesn’t concern me if a conference team plays in the BCS; Such outward things dwell not in my desires. But if it be a sin to hate Auburn, I am the most offending soul alive. No, fans, my team, wish not for a man from the Plains. Saban’s peace! I would not lose so great an honor As to be recognized as a squad of champions, Than a single face gone in a year. O, do not wish for a one-man team! Rather proclaim it, students, through your cheers, That he which hath no stomach for this fight, Let him depart; his path shall be made clear, And gas money for convoy put into his wallet; We would not lose in that man’s company That fears his fellowship to lose with us. This day is called the Bowl of Iron. He that outlives this day, and comes home a victor, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Iron. He who shall win this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast with his neighbors, And say ‘Tomorrow is the Iron Bowl.’ Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say ‘These wounds I had at the Iron Bowl.’ Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he’ll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words — Coach Saban, Ingram and Richardson, Barron and Lester, Jones and McElroy — Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. This story shall the good man teach his son; And the Iron Bowl shall never go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered — We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he never so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen outside Tuscaloosa now-a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon the Iron Bowl.

John Davis is a junior majoring in fourth quarter motivational speeches.