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The Man in the Iron Shoe
You have often heard the tale of Casey’s mighty swat,
And you’ve read of football heroes old and new.
But seldom have you ever heard the praises sung.
Of the Man in the Iron Shoe.
Now his is a hard and rugged game.
Its players picked and few.
The faint of heart will have no part Of this Man in the Iron Shoe.
His arena is an earthen track.
His opponents a reckless crew.
Whose one ambition is to beat,
Other men with an Iron Shoe.
His creed is simple—ride to win.
His method—dare and do.
His nerves are strands of tempered steel.
This Man in the Iron Shoe.
Dust, and Sun, and Clamor Are part of the entrance cue.
Of this Gladiator of the track Our Man in the Iron Shoe.
He rides a steed with a brazen heart That drinks of a devil’s brew.
Its pulse drums high as it hurtles by With the Man in the Iron Shoe
He strives against the hand of Time, Hearts skip a beat or two.
As he slides a turn at 90.
This Man in the Iron Shoe.
Win—lose—or draw it’s all the same. When the race is run and through.
What matters is the stirring game.
To the Man in the Iron Shoe.
True, he may not win, but he’ll try again. As all real sportsmen do,
Till someday he will lay aside A battered Iron Shoe.
He may grow old and gray like me But till his life is through.
He’ll never lose the memory of His days in the Iron Shoe!
—By Emmett Moore
