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Merry Christmas

If you can stand it, a twist on a classic poem

Washington Nationals v Detroit Tigers Photo by Leon Halip/Getty Images

Well I felt the Christmas spirit within me when I decided to write this. It is corny and hopeful, but that’s Christmas for you. I do not write poems, not really, so be gentle.

Twas the morning of Christmas, when all through Cards country,

Not a Cardinal was playing, not even Jack Flaherty;

The gloves were all hung in the clubhouse with care,

In hopes that baseball season would soon be there;

The pitchers were nestled all snug in their beds,

With visions of strikeouts to helpless Reds;

And Hicks with his fastball, and Miller’s slider,

Watching the bullpen, you won’t need hard cider.

A knock on Mo’s door arose such a clatter;

He sprang from his bed to see what was the matter;

Away to his door, he flew like a bee,

Unbolted his lock, too eager to see,

What figure awoke him from pleasant dreams;

What he saw would shock twenty-nine teams;

In fact his very own eyes could hardly believe,

That this could be happening before new year’s eve;

The man in front of him was in need of a barber;

He could not mistake it, this man was Bryce Harper.

He stood before Mo with a gleam in his eye;

Like a Waino curve that can make hitters cry;

“I’ve looked and I’ve pondered and racked my brain empty,

For the team I should choose with money aplenty;

The Dodgers are bluffing, the Phillies aren’t biting,

The Nationals gave up, the Cubs are not fighting,

But an offer from you and I just might quit asking;

What do you say so I can go back to relaxing?”

So into the house Mo did invite Bryce,

Who wondered about the new asking price;

Mo still had a hurdle, he needed to call Billy,

But this fell in his lap, not signing would feel silly;

He thought of the team, of Bader’s quickness,

Of Wong’s acrobats, and Tyler’s thickness;

He dreamed of Carpenter walks and a Goldy home run,

Ozuna line drives, and runners thrown out by a gun;

Then add Harper to this winning situation,

He might bring a 12th to all of Cardinals nation.

He called up Dewitt and asked what he could bid;

Dewitt was confused at what Harper just did;

He felt the Christmas spirit and with it goodwill

When he decided to bid three-hundred mil’

Harper just questioned and wondered if he could accept,

The same offer as earlier which he did reject;

He thought of Mikolas and his control mastery,

And the many Cards in the Hall of Fame gallery;

He wanted to join in that hallowed class,

He would not let Boras sit on his ass.

He shook hands with Mo, accepting the deal,

“Hope that you know that you’re getting a steal”

Bryce left the house with Mo’s family still sleeping;

Mo became so happy, he started leaping;

He leaped towards the window, to see if he imagined;

The lefty got in his car, this really had happened;

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

Merry Christmas.