'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Roger Goodell's house
Not a creature was stirring, not even Pacman Jones (we hope), that louse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes for the Giants another Super Bowl title soon would be there.
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Super Bowl rings danced in their heads.
And TC in his ‘kerchief, and Jerry in his cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Only to see Jerry Jones digging through the trash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When what appeared but a sobbing Jerry, Oh, Dear,
My pass to the playoffs, he said, I must have left it here.
With our little old driver, so lively and quick,
We know TC is always the coach we would pick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Brandon! now, Derrick! now, Kevin and Hixon!
On, Eli! On, Justin! on, on Spags, we have to keep Blitzin'!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Vanquish our foes! Vanquish them all!"
-- That's all I've got in terms of a Christmas poem. Hope you enjoyed it. As the real ''Twas the Night Before Christmas ends, though ...
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"