'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our posse,
Not a luge coach was working, not even Ron Rossi.
The luge sleds were heading to Frankfurt with care,
In hopes that Pete Motta would pick them up there.
The athletes were nestled all snug in their beds,
As visions of mind runs snaked through their heads.
And Pete with his eggnog and I with my beer
Had just parted ways for a few days of cheer.
When out on our blog there arose such a chatter,
I sprang to my Mac to see what was the matter.
Away to the website I flew like a flash,
Glancing not at my e-mail, not even the trash.
The discussion board comments were all flashing “NEW.”
“What does it mean?”, I thought, and then wondered, “Who?”
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a message from “Northman;” Well, what have we here?
I started to read, and it hit me quite quick,
That one of our blog readers must be St. Nick!
“More rapid than eagles your sliders they fly,
I’m not good with names, but I’ll give it a try:
“Now, Lea! now, Taylor! now, Summer and Tony!
On, Isaac! on, Billy! on, Andrew and Robby!
I know of two more, whose moms post here a lot:
On Aaron! on, Jake! And on Curtis! (your doc).”While reading his words I could barely think straight,
My only thought was: our most famous to-date!!
So up to the keyboard my fingers they flew,
With a reply of
“Hello, Sir” and
“So, how are you?”And then, in a twinkling, St. Nick shot right back
“I’ve got news for you all: free runs on my track!”As I picked up my glass and poured a fresh lager,
The jolly old man then spelled out his offer:
“My track’s at the Pole; Mrs. Claus runs the timing.
The track crew are elves who make fun of my rhyming.
For a truck there’s my sleigh, unused most of the year.
Just set your sleds out, and I’ll bring you all here.”So out of the blue! So against expectations!
Was this just for us, or all FIL nations?
“For you, my dear friends, who have gone to such pains;
Why just getting home took a train and four planes!"I’ve been reading your blog, and I know from Moscow
That not everyone has been served enough chow.
When I told Mrs. Claus, she said ‘Send them to me!’
At our house for dinner, there’s enough food times three!
"My workshop stands ready to replace broken bridges.
We have fiber and resin and new steels for your edges.
A completely new pod with fresh paint, at no cost.
And six runs a day on my track, free of frost.”I could not find words, so amazed was I feeling.
My brain was a shambles, split asunder and reeling.
Could this really be happ’ning? 'Twas too good to be true!
I’d better call Pete, to share the news with him too.
I arose from my laptop, feeling clammy and cold.
Asleep here I’d fallen, for hours now untold.
But I heard a voice calling, 'ere I ran out of puns,
“Happy Christmas to all, may you all have clean runs!!”