MERRY CHRISTMAS

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by Plate Dad


'Twas the night before Christmas, and all around the field
Not a creature was stirring, not even for a contract deal;

The bat bags were hung in the dugout with care,
In hopes that St. Braves soon would be there;

The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of double plays dancing in their heads;

And mamma in her Chipper Jones Jersey, and I in my Atlanta cap,
Had just settled down for a seven inning nap,

When out on the infield there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my box seats to see what was the matter.

Away to the backstop I flew like a flash,
Tore open some seeds and double checked my cash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to bases below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Lenoir Rhyne Ball Cap, and a keg of light beer,

With a classy old driver, so lively leading a fan wave,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Braves.

More rapid than fast his stand-ins they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, One Putt! now, Old Angels Coach! now, Coach 27 and Strechlon!
On, Dawgswood! on Freddy Suggs! on, Dbacks and Coacheveans!

From the first coaches box! to the top of the mound!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As a hard hit ball that turns into deep center field fly,
When they meet a good bat, they sail though the sky,

So up to the top of the concession stand they flew,
With the Gator full of equipment, and St. Braves too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little goof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Braves came with a bound.

He was dressed in a Home Game uniform, from his head to his cleats,
And his clothes were all stained from the clay at his feet;

A bundle of bats 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 cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the bat bags; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;


He sprang to his Gator, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

 

That's making me weepy!!!!!

Plate Dad----Thank you and wish you and your family the Merriest of Christmas.

I was shaking my head saying, Yep...yep...that's me, until I read this:

"He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf," and remembered it was a fable.

 

Had to keep some of it..... was just thinking about all that food and fishing. With the golf carts, no walking. Looking at the future.