Norwegian Farmer’s Son…October 3rd


POEM – “No Sort For Sport”  by N. Elliott Noorlun

#1068 BGHS 1968-69 El on Wrestling Team 001
Maybe Elliott was trying to look like a growling Battle Ground “Tiger” in this photo.  He’s front and third from left.  From the 1968-69 Bengal yearbook.

“Yer too puny, They’ll kill ya on the field!”,

When I asked Dad to play Football.

Better to have a living young man,

Than dead or crippled from fall.!

NFS 10.3g
A wrestling head injury for Elliott.

So then, while wrestling, I made a wrong move,

With my head being hammered to mat.

Coach took me to hospital, Concussion severe,

As I groaned while I laid there kersplat!

NFS 10.3h
For Elliott, it should’ve been call the LOW JUMP.

And then there was Track, Where I chose the High Jump,

I hoped to be high reaching star.

But the more I practiced, The worse I got,

As I lowered and lowered the bar.

NFS 10.3i
Short Stuff Elliott.

Too short for Basketball, Can’t swing a bat,

Too slow for the Cross Country Squad.

It seemed that no sport, Was ever to be,

No winner’s trophies to laud.

NFS 10.3j
The only kind of exercise Elliott can do….run AMOK! 😉

It didn’t take long, For me to learn,

To escape from getting contusions,

Was to play the sport, Of “Running Amok”,

And “Jumping To Conclusions”!!! 😉

NFS 10.3k





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