Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the land
Not a creature was stirring, ‘cept the Bulldogs and fans.
Their unis were hung by the lockers with care,
In hopes that Saint Billy soon would be there.
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of championships danced in their heads.
And Woodall in Dog Hat, and Bell in his cap,
Had been working their brains on a reverse and a trap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
To see Cooper’s time in the 40-yard dash.
The field on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave Patterson lights on his 50-yard throw.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature back, with his linemen in gear.
The driver was bald, so lively and shrill,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Bill.
More rapid than eagles his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now, Jordan! Now, Tre’mon! Now, Cooper! Now, Rambo!
On, Jason! On, Davis! On Smitty! Let’s Go, Go!
To the top of the region! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Let’s win them all!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing and a woof, woof, woof, woof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Billy came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, knew his boys were a threat,
And his clothes were all tarnished and stanky with sweat.
A bundle of plays he had flung on his back,
And he looked like old Saban, just opening his pack.
His eyes they were bloodshot, his glasses how dirty,
His nose was all runny, he wasn’t that pretty.
His droll little mouth was curled up at the lip,
When the referee’s flag flew off of his hip
The Bulldogs were ready when the Canes came to town,
They took to the air to topple them down.
With win after win, the Dogs went to work,
And filled all the stockings with a Championship berth.
The fans were a cheering, to their feet they arose.
With the trophy in hand, up the chimney he goes.
The players and coaches were happy to see,
That maybe, just maybe, they might make it a three.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like shot from a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all, on this Championship night.