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'Twas the Poem About the NY Jets & NY Mets: Santa's Got Nothing on Me

EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ - DECEMBER 26:  A male fan of the New York Jets dressed as Santa Claus in Jets team colors stands and waves during the game against the New England Patriots on December 26, 2004 at Giants Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey.  The Patriots won the game 23-7.  (Photo by Al Bello/Getty Images)
Al Bello/Getty Images
Brandon GrossContributor IIIDecember 20, 2012

It's hard being a New York Mets and New York Jets fan around the holidays.  As we take stock of how we spent our year, we remember countless hours by the TV that now seem wasted.  I've written a little holiday poem that I hope spreads some cheer on our lousy year of baseball and football. 

Perhaps in 2013 we will be toasting a World Series or a Superbowl rather than celebrating trading a CY Young Award Winner or benching a starting Quarterback. 

And now, without further adieu...

 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

All the creatures were yelling, “Mark Sanchez, you louse!”

The stockings were hung, the toffee pudding was sticky,

There was hope that the Mets could win without R.A. Dickey;

 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of Super bowls and World Series danced in their heads;

And Woody Johnson, in his suit, and Fred Wilpon, in one too,

Shrugged at each other, no idea what to do,

 

When out in the city there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed in hopes that NY sports again, would matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash

Maybe the Mets would get their influx of cash.

 

I saw the moon in the sky and new-fallen snow

Heaven sent a white Christmas, or perhaps it was just Tim Tebow,

Then, what to my wandering eyes should appear,

But a Sandy Alderson press conference…he’s not giving up on this year!

 

Then a little old driver, in a car so big and quick

Pulled up at the conference and out stepped a first round pick

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came

And the GM’s whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

 

“Now, Gholston! Now, Blair Thomas!  Now, Heilman and Kunz!

On, Nimmo!  On, Ducasse!  You’re all headed for platoons!

To the minors you go!  The practice squad for all!

The only thing we know for sure is that the Hall of Fame won’t call.”

 

26 seasons without a Championship for the Mets.

But that's nothing compared to 43 years...how long it's been for the Jets.

Yet we come back for more…at the end of each tunnel, look for light,

Happy Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!

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