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Silliman
on Sports By Stan Silliman April 23,
2004. April may not be the best time to rip off a great Christmas poem,
but hey, when is?
‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE DRAFT DAY ‘Twas the night before Draft Day And all through the league, Not a GM was sleeping, Though battling fatigue. Draft picks were slung round Their necks like a tie, With a note from the boss: “Pick right or die.” Sean Taylor or Manning Or Roethlisberger, The names kept on blending Like an Enron merger. “We’ve money under the cap,” Yells the boss from the back. “Pick Will Smith” he screams, “He’ll look good in Black.” “But I’m thinking of Winslow, He’s a soldier, y’know.” But we had to remind him That was only for show. Daddy Archie says Eli Won’t go if he’s picked, But the Chargers insist They’re not to be tricked. Picking players an art Pays his big salary. Then if it’s art why not Pick Robert Gallery? When down from the war room Amidst ringing phones, Came word from the boss, Jerry “Wrinkleless” Jones.  “A cornerback,” he says With his wrinkle free pate, “We’ll need him directly, Let’s pick Derrick Strait.” “You better do so now Or else I might frown.” And cracks then appeared On his botoxified crown. We heard him exclaim As his face collapsed in a heap, “I’m melting, I’m breaking, Oh, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep.” |