on Sports
Draft Day


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
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.

Draft Day

“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.”

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