2 annual BRMS/Rock Bouldering Comp

'Twas the night before The Comp, when all through the gym
Not a knuckle dragger was stirring, not even a chuffer;

 The holds were cleaned by the car wash with care

In hopes that comp day would soon be there;

The boulderers were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of crushed problems danced in their heads

 

And Cliff on his ladder, and Josh with his wrench,

 

Had just settled down for a well deserved beer,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

We sprang from the gym to see what was the matter.

Away to the window we flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

I knew in a moment it must be time.

And I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself;

A twist of the hip, and a dyno to the hold,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

All spoke not a word, but went straight to work,

And filled all the score cards; and cranked with a jerk,

And laying their chalk pots aside of the pads,

And giving a spot, up the problems they rose;

They sprang to the beats, and to his team he gave a shout,

But I heard him exclaim, through the chalk filled the night

Its Comp night!