I open my door, and what do I see? Some late Christmas carolers from the sports world . . .
Wayne Fontes, singing “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen” God rest ye Barry Sanders, man, and please don’t stub a toe, You know my future’s on your back so keep those shoulders low Watch your knees, oh pretty please, keep running in fifth gear when you do, then my future is so clear Three more years! Tell Dave Krieg please to bundle up his ears.
Dennis Rodman, “Frosty the Snowman” I’m Dennis the Rodman I’m as kooky as can be Got my nine tattoos, life is making news That is my philosophy. Dennis the Rodman Picking colors for my head yellow or chartreuse how’s a man to choose?
here’s a Christmas shade of red. It must have been the hair dye that leaked into my brain Or maybe when Madonna said
“you get rich by being vain,” Dennis the Rodman didn’t used to be this weird but with each new act comes a shoe contract think I’ll grow a purple beard. Mike Tyson, singing
“I’ll Be Home For Christmas” I’ll be out next Christmas You can knock on wood Please have someone’s head in mind That I can pound but good It’s been years since Christmas meant this much, it’s grand I’m thinking $80 million and that’s only for one hand. Baseball owners, singing to players “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” You better not buy, you better sublet, Better sell off that second Corvette Sa-la-ry Cap’s coming to town. It’s making a list, setting a price better go seek financial advice Sa-la-ry cap’s coming to town. We know this causes hardship, we do this with regret but times are tough and you may have to sell that Lear jet yet, so You better clamp down, better make due owning just one Ferrari, not two Sa-la-ry cap’s coming to town. Jimmy Johnson and Barry Switzer,
“The Little Drummer Boy” You took my leftovers, old chum, chum, chum, chum. Are you insane, this job is plum, plum, plum, plum You couldn’t hold my jock, you bum, bum, bum, bum, Go spray your hair some more you TV head scum Who’s having fun? You call that fun? We’ll see in January, who’s No. 1 Count on it, son. Tonya Harding, singing to Jeff Gillooly
“Blue Christmas” We’ll have a blue Christmas without you We’ll be so blue, out here, without you Are they treating you well? How’s the food in your cell? I should be with you I’m guilty but . . . what the hell! It’s been a swell Christmas, honey, that little bitch, Nancy, makes money By the way, have you met any good hit men yet? Maybe we’ll have a black and blue Christmas. George Foreman, “The Christmas Song” Chestnuts roasting, think I’ll eat a few Bonbons? I’ll try some of those Cookies and cake, do you mind, let’s partake It’s Christmas pass the ice cream bowls and the Tootsie Rolls, You know that I’m the champion Took the title from those bums One day I’ll defend, and it might be the end but until then urp! pass the Tums. Andre Agassi, singing “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” I saw Brookie kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night I simply cannot see, what he’s got over me I’m younger and I’m cuter and my chest is more hairy I saw Brookie kissing Santa Claus Can’t believe she gave that guy a whirl then I heard that fat man sing
“Image is everything” The Zen Master, Santa, stole my girl. Hockey players, singing “Silent Night” Silent night, eh? Holy night, eh? Got no pucks, eh? Got no ice, eh? Been so long since we took a good whack, eh? Been so long that my teeth are growing back, eh? All we want is to pla-ayy All we want is to play . . . eh?