I adapted a poem for the Sharks in the vein of Autumn Wind of the Oakland Raiders. It is from the 1925 poem by Edwin John Pratt called the Shark. He seemed to know the harbour So leisurely he swam His fin like a piece of iron knifing through the waves he scanned His body was tubular, tapered, and smoke-blue, As he passed the wharf, he turned and snorts At the flat-fish he did eschew A flash of throat and teeth And eyes of metallic grey, Hard and narrow and slit they pierced His unwitting and helpless prey Then out of the harbour, Lithely, leisurely, he swam That strange fish, part vulture, part wish and feared by all of man