The Irish Trojan

Having received an e-mail yesterday officially welcoming me to Notre Dame Law School (they received my deposit check and enrollment form on Wednesday), the self-descriptive phrase “Irish Trojan” occurred to me at some point this afternoon. Catchy, eh?

Naturally, since everything always goes back to Ireland — and more specifically, to the Clancy Brothers — this passing thought inspired me to write an entire song: a knock-off of The Irish Rover. It is entitled, of course, The Irish Trojan.

I present it here, in its entirety, knowing full well that my dad is probably the only reader who will fully appreciate it (though Sean may remember some of the tune from when I used to sing The Irish Rover on the playground in third grade). Now then, I don’t want no grief about how the rhymes with “Trojan” are imperfect. Nothing rhymes with Trojan. :) I did my best. The scansion is also suspect in spots, and there is one place where “Dame” is rhymed with “dame,” always a no-no. But what can I say? I rather like it anyway.

The Irish Trojan
by Brendan Loy

In the year of our lord
Twenty hundred and two
Brendan’s life’s road arrived at a fork
Which career path to take?
Which profession to choose?
For the erstwhile journalism dork
Going to grad school seemed daft
But he tired of his craft
His inspiration frozen
So to much shock and awe
He decided on law
Now they call him the Irish Trojan

Seven big-city law schools
Back east, close to home,
Were the ones whose admissions he sought
But he also applied
To a Midwestern school
‘Twas a virtual afterthought
For Rebecca, his dame
Sought out Notre Dame
To join their history program
Brendan thus followed suit
Though he planned no such route
Nor to be called the Irish Trojan

When the offers came in
And the rejections, too
Brendan’s options were narrowed to four
UConn, BU, Cardozo and old Notre Dame
Were the choices he had to explore
Cardozo was free
No tuition or fees
Their offer made them golden
Few indeed could foresee
That a day there would be
When they’d call him the Irish Trojan

The scales started to tip
On a fateful road trip
With fair Becky in May of ’03
They decided to spend
A few hours in South Bend
Took the tour — after all, it was free
Around campus they walked
And oh! What a shock!
It seemed the fates had chosen
For he loved every inch
Now the choice seemed a cinch
Soon they’d call him the Irish Trojan

Brendan’s not in the habit
Of closing the book
On his options when they’re still alive
So he dragged out his choice
And considered it well
Though his friends for finality strived
But a trip to the sticks
And two football tix
Convinced him to quit rovin’
Now he’s finally enrolled–
Hail green, cardinal and gold–
And they call him the Irish Trojan!

Hehehe.

Hmm. That second-to-last line makes me think of a possible follow-up song… “It is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen! His undergrad was cardinal, but his law school, it was green…” :)

On a more serious note, the first day of school at ND is Aug. 23. Expect a countdown to appear on this site fairly shortly — and also expect that word “probably” to be removed from my self-description at left.

16 Responses to “The Irish Trojan”

  1. Joe Loy says:

    Utterly magnificent /(sniff)(snort)(honnnk) / Screw the Few scansionflaws / I may (MAY) Commentate more Sarchasteristically, Iffen When I Recover / oh Mooh, & Booey Hooh :) now Looky here, I Went Away to Retiremink & Yoooue Grewww Wupp / :)

    Nice Work, el Hombre de Beano. :}

  2. Joe Loy says:

    PS – Uh But Wut would you have Writ had the Chosen been Cardozo? / Hoo hah don’t answer dot dearie, I’m a little verklempt / Yeshiva fit th’ battle of Jericho – Nonono – Nonono – / well shofar, sho good, ol’ Kiddoe: still Writing that bright Tomorrow, worthy of all your Yesterdays.

    (Till the last Song be Sung,
    An’ th’ poor ould Dog is Hung,
    He will be the Hoosier Rover. :)

  3. Joe Loy says:

    Hm.

    Re-reading the Hereinabove (“I prefer to contemplate the eloquence of my previous remarks” – Mistuh FuhBuckey :) it occurs to me that what Joe Lieberman needs now, the more’s the pity, is the incomparable political game-skill of the subject & hero of his longago book “The Power Broker”: the late great CT Dem Chairman John Moran Bailey. For *there*, you see, was The Irish Rove-er. :)

  4. Compose yer dog’rel
    Compose yer dog’rel
    The nut falls not far from the tree
    Ye’ll go to Indiana
    The birthplace of Leanna
    Both yer folks are daft and so are ye
    :)
    oxo

  5. Joe Loy says:

    WAWHAWHAWHAW whahwhahwhahwhah MAH! PAS JUSTE!! THERE’LL BE NOOOO TOPPIN’ YER HUSBAND! Uh Let me rephrase that, NO FAIR BESTING MY PARODIES OF THE KIDDOE’S PARODIES! :) Excellent. Superb.

    For the benefit of Uncultured nonLoymer readers :), Leanna’s brilliant work is based — unerringly — on the chorus of
    Tommy Makem’s version of “Drink Up The Cider”. Unfortunately its lyrics are not among the many listed on his linked website. Nor do I find them in the excellent Mudcat’s Cafe’s voluminous “Digitrad” folksong database, though there are several Postings to its Forum threads re, and of, various versions.

    The Fambly Memory Lane bit here is, that the version of the chorus which Brendan in his Toddlerhood once belted out at his good Presbyterian Grampa Loomer, goes:

    Drink up the cider,
    Drink up the cider,
    For tonight we’ll merry be,
    We’ll knock the milkmaids over
    And roll ’em in the clover
    ,
    The corn’s half cut and so are we!

    (Grampa Giff to his darling daughter: “What kind of a song is that for a three-year-old?” :)

    And so in conclusion dear readers, here for your delight & edification courtesy of The Official Bristol City (UK) Football Club Band aka “The Cider Army”, is their homepage with a Link to a short .wav clip — slightly expurgated I fear, for the crucial word sounds more like “milkchurns” or something — of the chorus. (OTOH perhaps The Cider Army is just coming off of hard bootcamp training and is shimply shlurring shlightly. There’s also a full MP3 version if you want; I don’t dare download it meself, the hamster in my hard drive would expire upon his treadmill, the dirty rat. :)

    See this way here, having the melody (sic :), you can all Steal my goodwife’s Song. Along with her Luggage. (I’ll explain that one another time, Tommy. “OH NOOOO, MR. SLUGGO!!” :)

    Milkmaids Nine passed around, and the Doggerel was Downed,
    By the Cast of the Clover Rollers.

  6. Jesus says:

    NNNNNOOOOOOO!
    NNNNNOOOOOOO!
    Okay as long as it isnt UCLA u went to after SC…
    HAHAHAHAHAH yet another thing those retarded Bruins can’t win at…BASKETBAL!
    GO TROJANS!

  7. Patti says:

    seen you on spike lee documentary last night, pretty heavy stuff…so just thought i’d check this out