The Celebration Of The Kiffin


Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?

Training is about to begin


We must be better than we were
Has this team stopped?

The ball was golden brown, glazed and inflated
They weren't afraid to touch it
The field was hot, still, airless
And Al was beside me, old
He's, no; young
His dark wavy hair
The white soft skin
Now, run to the huddle in the endzone
Knapp's coming in here
I can't wait for this slow century of off-season to end
I let my cheek slide down
The cool smooth clipboard
Feel the good cold stinging hits
The loud clatter, helmets, 2 minute drills...


Once I had a little scheme
I liked to use at USC
I think you'll like the scheme I know
I mean the scheme called West Coast O

Now you should try this little scheme
Just close your eyes, feel the seams
Forget the rush, forget the blitz
And you'll defeat their hands and wits

This little scheme is fun to do
Just time your throw, no way to lose
And I'm right here, I'm going to
Release the run, we're breaking thru...


Burrow back into the brain
Back past the wristband of names
I find the plays to move the chains

And the chains move steadily up the field
And over the heads of our opposition
And in the labyrinth of plays in the playbook
I unleash screens, bootlegs and counters
Upon the nervous opposition defensive co-ordinators
Their indecision abounding
Toss sweeps, options, play-action fakes

Each down repeats a mold
Defenses rolled, newspaper-stands say in the morning

Al's now sleeping
The haters silent
Their mirrors vacant
Dust builds inside their heads
And questions trip up their feet
The AFC West sprayed with semen
Lies in our mercy

There's been a slaughter here

Don't stop to doubt or look around
Their gloves and pads are on the ground
They're getting out of town
They're going on the run
And we're the one they wished didn't come


Not to Air Coryell
Not to Run 'n Gun
Nothing left to do
But run, run, run
Let's run

Split backs on the first
I-Form on the second
Bunch set on the third
First downs are a breeze
C'mon LJ run with glee
Let's run

The O-Line is tough inside the redzone
Quick are the wideouts in the spaces there
Strong are the hands of our Tight Ends flared
And they wont know which receiver will get inside

Our guards and tackles push hard at the snap
Their linebackers react like frozen caps
C'mon JR we're going very far
To the NFC to meet their best

We're outlaws from across the Golden Gate
The NFL's in love with the hate
Whose umpires want to throw flags at our feet
Well done, Cable, we're almost clean

Run Run Run
Rhodes Rhodes Rhodes
Soon Soon Soon
Bush Bush Bush
He will get you soon

I am the Lane Kiffin
I can do anything