By Bruce Strand, in 1967 for high school English
A boy named Lad was big and bad.
On basketball he thrived.
For basketball, the lad was tall;
He towered six-foot-five.
The lad could shoot, the lad could scoot,
The lad had jumping spring.
Why did Lad dare to grow long hair?
It spoiled everything.
On Lad’s thick crown his coach did frown.
They argued night and day.
Lad cried “No need!” when Coach decreed:
“Get trimmed or you won’t play!”
The coach would rave, “You’ve got to shave!”
And Lad would shout, “Unfair!”
The coach would hoot, “You shouldn’t shoot
With eyes submerged in hair!”
The coach adored the way Lad scored,
But hair he couldn’t stand.
He told his star, “You’ll, as you are,
From basketball be banned.”
For Lad it was (confused he was)
An answerless dilemma.
Could he offend his girl friend
His dearest darling Emma?
For Emma fair, she loved long hair.
She felt it was a must.
She dug his shocks of 10-inch locks.
They triggered all her lust.
His hear and beard, the lad now feared,
Were forcing him to choose.
He loved the game and loved the dame.
Which one of them would lose?
But Emma had a hold on Lad.
On her did Lad decide.
He chose the girl and kept the curl
And shoved the game aside.
The season started. Lad departed.
The team did very badly.
“We’d have it made if Lad had played,”
The coach reflected sadly.
It was too bad that this big Lad
Thought long hair was so nifty.
He left the game and lost his fame,
And now he weighs three-fifty.
And Emma fair? No longer there.
She wants to wed a winner.
She soon revised her taste in guys
And now she digs Yul Brynner.