Twas the night before the draft, when all through the park
Not a Redskin was stirring, not even coach Englehart.
The new Nike jerseys were hung by their lockers with care,
In hopes that Mr. Griffin soon would be there.
The Redskins faithful were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of RGIII danced in their heads.
And Snyder in his #10 jersey, and papa Shanahan in his New Era cap,
Had just settled their brains after a long offseason analyzing the draft.
When out in the bubble there arose such a clatter,
Mike Shanahan 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.
The practice field’s lights above the newly-inflated dome
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the facilities below.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a 6′ 2 and 3/8″-tall savior, in neon Adidas gear.
With his dreads still swinging, and a look so smitten
Shanahan knew in a moment it must be Robert Griffin.
More rapid than braves on the warpath, his offensive linemen came
And Robert whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Brown! Now, Montgomery! Now, Polumbus and Chester!
On, Hurt! On, McCaskill! On, Williams and Lichtensteiger!
To the top of the NFC East! to the top of the league in the fall!
Now zone block away! block away! block away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, pass through the sky.
So up to first place the coursers they flew,
With a team full of starting draft picks, and RGIII too.
And then, via twitter, Shanny heard in the facility
The arriving of players relaxed and void of hostility.
As he drew bootleg plays in his head, and was turning around,
Off the big board at #2, his superman socks came with a bound.
He was dressed in black Armani, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all dry cleaned, no ashes or soot.
The book-bag from his pro day, flung on his back,
he pulled out a Heisman, while avoiding a sack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His mouth was drawn up, in a very big smile
For he had come all the way from Waco, to thousands of NFL scouts analyzing his profile.
The Redskins #1 jersey, he held tight in his grasp,
As the Commissioner embraced him, with dignity and class.
He had a broad face and little baby dreads,
That shook when he laughed, like a mop on his head.
He was taller than thought and in very good shape, a right jolly old player,
And Browns fans cursed when they saw him, as a result of their failure.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let the Redskins know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the seats at Fed Ex, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the preseason power rankings the Redskins rose!
He sprang to the press conference, to his team gave a whistle,
And the rumors of Rex starting in week one were shot to hell, like rounds out of a pistol.
But I heard him exclaim, as he walked out of sight,
“Happy NFL Draft to all, and to all a good-night!”
I have attempted to convert this Christmas classic as best I could. If you like it, spread the word. If you’re interested in meeting the legend that is Kevin Mawyer II, you should come here for the first round of the draft tomorrow night! You can also follow me on twitter here. Stay tuned to Riggo’s Rag for more updates as the offseason continues!