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‘Twas the night before the playoffs, when all through the castle,
Not a player was stirring, not even a rascal;
The awards were displayed by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the Super Bowl soon would be there;
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Lombardis danced in their heads;
And Harbaugh in his ‘kerchief, and DeCosta in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
Harbaugh 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 moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, his eyes were met with disbelief,
By a miniature sleigh, and eight mighty Chiefs,
With a little old driver, so lively with speed,
He knew it was his old friend, Andy Reid.
More rapid than ravens his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
To the top of the conference! to the top of them all!
Now dash away to victory! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of tickets, and old Andy Reid too.
And then, in a twinkling, he jumped from his seat,
To hear prancing of each little cleat.
As he drew in his hand and was turning around,
Down the chimney Andy Reid came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with turf and soot;
A bundle of tickets he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His glasses — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His mustache and mouth were drawn up in a smile,
But Harbaugh knew his old friend would not speak for a while;
A round headset he wore on his head,
With a little round mic colored in red.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old coach,
And Harbaugh laughed when he saw him, though he dared not approach;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave him to know he had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but began straight to his aim,
And filled all the stockings with tickets to the AFC Championship game,
And he turned and gave Harbaugh a smile as if to say,
See you soon, my dear friend, on that cold winter day.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of our loyal readers and listeners!

-Christopher Linfante

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