Twas the night before Christmas and all through Bleacher Report!
Fantasy managers were crying about all their teams warts
Although we started with optimism, one thing was clear,
Our teams were all done for the year.
As for me I started all smug with my draft
With visions of championships, I just had to laugh
As the weeks went by and my team hit the skids
I now have some time for the wife and the kids
When on the message board there arose such a clatter
The winning coach had started to chatter
Away from my monitor I flew like a flash
I couldn't stand reading any more of that trash
How is/are your teams doing on the eve of the playoffs?
The screen at my desk still was aglow
Calling me closer to read the comments below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But an article discussing sleepers for next year.
I looked at the headline and my mouse I did click
I knew in a moment this would do the trick
As to my draft order, the answers they came
And I whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now Manning, now Brady, and Arian Foster,
Now Chris Johnson, Dwayne Bowe, and now Aaron Rodgers.
To the top of my list I tacked on the wall
Now draft away, draft away, draft away all!
I worked on my list for an hour and a half
Until I realized there were still eight months till the draft
So I put down my notes and logged off the computer
And I noticed just then, my kids had grown cuter.
As I looked in their faces, it taught me a lesson
And reminded me to go and buy Christmas presents
For my daughter I picked out a Barbie with pride
For my son, a Bleacher Report Fantasy guide.
As we sat down to eat our Christmas Eve dinner,
I said to my wife, "Have you gotten thinner?"
And to all of my fantasy friends on this site,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.