Archive for December, 2009

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shop
Not a person was stirring, all came to a stop;
The hoodies were folded and stacked with care,
The carpets were vacuumed (road salt everywhere!);
The employees walked home to rest in their beds,
While visions of bowl wins danced in their heads;

The owners sat down to a much needed nap,
With their beloved Basenjis curled up in their lap,
When down at the shop there arose such a clatter,
They drove right over to see what was the matter.
Through the front doors they flew like a flash,
Tore open the registers and counted the cash.

The fluorescents with their vibrating glow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to their work-weary eyes should appear,
But a maroon and orange sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a fat bearded driver, so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

Faster than Ryan Williams his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As fast as the wind they tore out of the store,
The owners hoped there was no poop on the floor,
So high above Main Street the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full Hokie gear, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

I lept from my bed at the magical sound,
When down the chimney came St. Nick with a bound.
He was dressed in maroon, from his head to his toes,
With VT logos sewn all over his clothes;
A bundle of gifts he had flung on his back,
With a large VT logo on the side of the sack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, had he been drinking sherry?
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 big ol’ beer 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 neck,
He asked me softly, “You like Virginia Tech?”;
I chuckled and said, “Nope, I’m a Wahoo.”
He grinned and bellowed, “Well, no gifts for you!”,
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
Laughing maniacally, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like heat seeking missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he pointed at me,
“If you want presents on Christmas, then root for VT!”