Story 2468 is significant enough a number to deviate into reality. When we were kids, “Two four six eight” was the grace before meals when mum and dad weren’t there:
Two four six eight, bog in, don’t wait.
Two four six eight was also the prefix to a chant at sports gatherings:
Two four six eight, who do we appreciate?
The winner’s name would then be chanted.
Another chant in that ilk was to spell the sports person’s name:
Give us an S
Give us an M
Give us an I
Give us a T
Give us an H
What have you got?
SMITH! SMITH! SMITH!
Of course that chant doesn’t work if the name is Barakat-Bentinckstokes.
My favourite chant (apart from Let’s go Brandon) requires a bit of explaining:
The High School I went to (and also taught at for a decade) was situated in the countryside. It was a large all-boys boarding school catering mainly at the time to sons of isolated farming families throughout the country. Hence the school itself was attached to a farm. The biggest (and oldest) annual athletics occasion was called the McEvedy Shield. Four major all-boys schools met to compete in some large stadium. The entire roll of each school would attend. Chants and hakas abounded. A haka is a traditional Maori challenge and each school in New Zealand has its own. The video shows two opposing high school teams challenging each other before a rugby match. (Incidentally, a “College” in New Zealand is the same as a High School).
At the McEvedy Shield around 2 o’clock the three opposing schools would unite and begin chanting at my school:
Go home! Milking time! Go home! Milking time!
I always found the Milking Time Chant very entertaining, and if anything it highlighted the positive camaraderie between the four competitive schools.
Perhaps you have a favourite chant?
Weave a Web 