'Twas two days before Christmas

'Twas two days before Christmas, And all through DC
Not a creature was moving, not even ABMOD;
The jerseys were hung in the equipment room with care,
In hopes that a major allocation soon would be there;

The fans were bunkered on message boards for days,
Waiting for the next crazy move of Ray's;
And Lastort with his one scarf, and GrillMaster with his drum,
Were wondering if the latest move was brilliant or dumb,

When out at BigSoccer there arose such a clatter,
Hundreds of DC fans chiming in on the matter.
Away to many sites we flew like a flash,
To see if Marco his signature would dash.

The sun rose each morning and no news came
Making us all wonder who was to blame.
When, something was rumored, what could it be?
A defender with frosted roots - Michael Petke

But with our little ol goalie, so lively and quick
It doesn't matter who's back there, they won't beat St. Nick.
Our defense will be solid, whether in threes or in fours,
It's our offense that needs the work they can't be a bore

"Now Marco, now Bobby, now Benny, now Tino!
On Ali, on Justin, on allocation and Chino!
Through the midfield, now out to the wing
A beautiful cross off your instep swing!"

Like rain in mythical Championships did fall,
this team will drive forward and win for us all,
through the rafters of the stadium from midfield to Northside,
We will cheer for a striker that never sends a shot wide.

And then, in a twinkling, we will hear all around,
A magical, wonderful, chanting sound.
As I turned my head, and looked all around
the entire lower bowl was jumping up and down.

Our team all in black, with the glorious red crest
Was back where it belonged, among the league's best.
Confetti, and streamers, and drums filled the air,
In hopes that a championship soon would be theirs.

Our coach, how he twinkled, his phrases so blue
he had as much passion for the game as me and you
His fist of a team, drawn up like a rod
His eyes sparkled with the green of the sod.

The stump of a team he fielded last year,
was erased from his mind with a couple of beers
He had a ruddy face, and a right little gut
that shook when he laughed like an orangatang's butt.

He was chubby and plump, but played once himself,
he was taller than last year's team made up mostly of elfs;
A wink of his eye, followed a curse from his lips,
Professor Higgins had never given him any language tips.

This cheerful old Geordie, went straight to his work,
bringing in footballers we thought were jerks,
but on the field, the team could play
so that come next November, we'll be in LA!

He sprang to an airplane and rose out of sight,
if your all good boys bring you Osorio, I might.
And I heard him exclaim to Dave Kaspar who was near,
"If this doesn't work now, we're out on our ears!"

Merry Christmas everyone, Bryan James.

 

I will be modifying the piece should activity warrant. Thank you all for your kind words, I just felt kind of Christmas-y this morning

 

The Night Before Christmas - updated as requested

'Twas the night before Christmas, And all through DC
The wheels of change were moving for all to see;
The jerseys were hung in the equipment room with care,
In hopes that a major allocation soon would be there;

The fans were bunkered on message boards for days,
Waiting for the next crazy move of Ray's;
And Lastort with his one scarf, and GrillMaster with his drum,
Were wondering if the Pope trade was brilliant or dumb,

When out at BigSoccer there arose such a clatter,
Hundreds of DC fans chiming in on the matter.
Away to many sites we flew like a flash,
Knowing if we were all on BigSoccer it would probably crash.

The sun rose this morning and news was there
Is that hairdye we smell in the air?.
When, something was rumored, what could it be?
A defender with frosted roots - Michael Petke

But with our little ol goalie, so lively and quick
It doesn't matter who's back there, they won't beat St. Nick.
Our defense will be solid, whether in threes or in fours,
It's our offense that needs the work they can't be a bore

"Now Marco, now Bobby, now Benny, now Tino!
On Ali, on Justin, on allocation and Chino!
Through the midfield, now out to the wing
A beautiful cross off your instep swing!"

Like rain in mythical Championships did fall,
this team will drive forward and win for us all,
through the rafters of the stadium from midfield to Northside,
We will cheer for a striker that never sends shots wide.

And then, in a twinkling, we will hear all around,
A magical, wonderful, chanting sound.
As I turned my head, my feet shook with the ground
the entire lower bowl was jumping up and down!

Our team all in black, with the glorious red crest
Was back where it belonged, among the league's best.
Confetti, and streamers, and drums filled the air,
In hopes that a championship soon would be theirs.

Our coach, how he twinkled, his phrases so blue
he loved the game like me and you
His fist of a team, drawn up like a rod
Made his eyes sparkle with the green of the sod.

The stump of a team he fielded last year,
was erased from his mind with a couple of beers
He had a ruddy face, and a right little gut
that shook when he laughed like an orangutang's butt.

He was chubby and plump, but played once himself,
he was taller than last year's team made up mostly of elfs;
A wink of his eye, followed a curse from his lips,
Professor Higgins never gave him any language tips.

This cheerful old Geordie, went straight to his work,
bringing in footballers we thought were jerks,
but on the field, the was a team that could play
Kim, Book that plane for November, we'll be in LA!

He sprang to an airplane and rose out of sight,
if you're all good boys, bring you Osorio, I might.
And I heard him exclaim to Dave Kaspar who was near,
"If this doesn't work now, we're out on our ears!"

Merry Christmas everyone, Bryan James.