Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the league
Not a player was stirring, due to season’s fatigue.
The final week’s games set by the commish with care,
In hopes that the playoffs soon would be there.
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of touchdown dances played in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my team cap,
Had just settled our brains for Sunday’s first snap.
When out in the stadium there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the game I flew like Chris Johnson’s 40-yard dash,
And turned up the volume for this weekend’s clash.
The sun on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to the players below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the Wildcat formation, striking opponents’ fear.
With a little old back, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Rick(y).
Two sacks more allowed than the Eagles, his blockers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Long! now, Alleman! now, Satele and Ginn!
On, Carey! On, Fasano! On Ndukwe and Martin!
To the top of the division! to the top of the East!
Now dash away! Dash away! On our opponents we feast!"
As Ronnie lines up in the power(ful) I,
When he’s met with an obstacle, Brown hurdles some guy.
So up to the division-top the Dolphins they flew,
With the record better than the ‘Boys, thanks to Pennington, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the stands
The roaring and cheering from every fan.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the sideline St. Ronnie came with a bound.
He was dressed all in pads, from his head to his feet,
And his jersey was tarnished with chalk, even his cleat.
A bundle of tacklers he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His strides reminded us of Sanders, yes, Barry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And as a present, he gave the fans a show.
His mouthpiece he held tight in his teeth,
And the steam it encircled his head like a wreath.
His blockers had broad faces and little round bellies,
That shook when they laughed, like a (Super)bowlful of jelly!
They were chubby and plump, like a jolly old elf,
And they laughed when they saw him, break tackles himself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave fans to know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stats, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the tunnel he rose!
He sprang to his locker, after the ref’s final whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he jogged out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"