Author: The Commish

 ‘Twas the night before football and all through the house

There was a slight stirring, now what’s this about?

As the banner gets hung by the Eagles with care,

Ol’ Glory is hidden in the closet under Jack’s stairs.

The owners were nestled all snug in their beds,

As visions of championships danced in their heads.

Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

Jack sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window he flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When what to his wondering eyes should appear,

But a number 13 jersey, and the smell of stale beer.

“The trophy is mine!” he heard a man say,

And he knew in an instant it must be Jay Hey!

The Ol’ Glory Bandit was at it once more

He’d snuck in the house and was at the closet door.

Jack raced down the hall in a panicking fright

“Not this time Bandit! Not kickoff night!”

He reached the living room and saw no one in sight,

It was just a bad dream, he thought with delight

And then from the wall came a rumbling sound

Down the chimney a figure came down with a bound

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot

His Mike Evans jersey tarnished by diapers and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And his head was adorned with a Silly Lanez cap.

Jack gasped at the sight, and tightened his sphincter

It wasn’t Jay Hey at all, but Markus J. Ricther!

“Hand over the trophy and I’ll give you a penny,

If you don’t take this deal, you’ll end up like Lenny!”

Jack laughed at the sight, and said “I’m not a fish”

As Jessie woke up and said “What the hell is this?”

Mark knew he’d been foiled, and ran out full throttle,

He scurried on home, and gave Lucy her bottle

But Jack heard him exclaim, as he ran out of sight

HAPPY FOOTBALL TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

 

Ladies and gentlemen, your 2018 League Preview.