Twas Two Years Before Knicksmas

Twas two years before Knicksmas, when all through MSG
Not a hoops fan was stirring, not even Spike Lee.
Retired numbers were hung from the rafters with care,
In hopes that King James soon would be there.

The Knicks players were nestled all snug in bunk beds,
While visions of Laker Girls danced in their heads.
Walsh stroked D'Antoni's 'stache, and Dolan his paid lady friend,
This three had resolved to wait two seasons 'til two thousand and ten.

When out on the avenue there arose such a clatter,
They sprang forth to Seventh to see what was the matter.
Away down the stairs they flew like Chris Paul,
Tore open the doors and bounded past the booths for will call.

The gray pavement-hued slush on the cars' breasts of yellow
Gave the pallor of death to passing Knicks fans, a lady and fellow.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a souped-up sleigh, and eight Knicks legends held dear.

With a tall, slender driver, with a hat brimmed wide,
Coach D knew in a moment it must be St. Clyde.
More rapid than showtime his courtiers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!"Now Patrick! now, Willis! now, on Pearl and Mason!
On, Bradley! On, Oakley! on, DeBusschere and Clifton!
To the top of the East! to the top of them all!
Now dash to! Dash fro! Dash after the ball!"

As Nash's Suns, before Shaq, used to fly,
With quickness they ran, walking like Kenny through sky.
So up to the Garden roof St. Clyde flew,
With the sleigh full of future free agents, and LBJ too.And then, in a twinkling, Walsh heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each size-21 hoof.
As D'Antoni drew in his head, and Dolan turned 'round,
Down the chimney Walt Frazier came with a bound.

He was dressed in purple fur, from his toe to his hair,
And his clothes were tailored and all without compare.
A bundle of players he had flung on his back,
And he looked like Boras, just opening his pack.

His words how they twinkled! his vocabulary how varied!
His game was like roses, lesser teammates he carried!
His play-by-play calling came with the tightest flow,
And Just For Men kept his beard from being white as the snow.The proof of his life shone when he smiled bright with his teeth,
And his winning aura encircled his fedora like a wreath.
He had an angled face and the just slightest bulge of a belly,
But foes still shook when he slashed, he turned ankles to jelly!

He was fit for his age, his handle top shelf,
Yet D'Antoni laughed when he saw him, in spite of himelf!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave the coach know he had nothing to dread.

He talked of posting and toasting as he undid Isiah's work,
And put new Knicks in hightops, calling Dolan a jerk.
After brushing aside bad contracts, bringing in all-pros
And giving a hat tip, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, ready to fix a new mess,
And away they all flew, gone in seven seconds or less.
But New York heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Knickmas to all, and to all a good-night!"