The 37th Annual Christmas Poem - Chicago Sun-Times

It's Christmas Day in the world of sports,

Let's lift our glasses and take a few snorts.

To Torre's Yankees, blazing a Series trail,

Leaving the Mets reeling on the Subway rail.

To Bobby Knight, either a bully or hero,

Getting the bounce on a tolerance of zero.

To the woeful Bulls, who seldom do win,

While Jerry Krause works on a third chin.

To the Rams Warner, leading a Super band,

Making the Titans miss by an outstretched hand.

To Manuel's Sox, making their playoff bid,

Until the Mariners proved these kids can skid.

To Phil Jackson, proving the guru is back,

Mesmerizing the Lakers with a Shaq attack.

To Mark Grace, one of the best at his craft,

A .300 bat and Gold Glove given the Cubs shaft.

To Tiger Woods, the best ever we reckon,

Forcing his foes to tee off for second.

To Sosa, whose 50 homers were stellar,

But couldn't lift the Cubs out of the cellar.

To the Blackhawks, a dog season in sight,

Even with Alpo, theyre all bark and no bite,

To QB Cade McKnown, in a season of woe,

As the Bears flubbed like Curly, Larry and Moe.

To Tonya Harding, figure-skating's madcap,

Switching zaps from a kneecap to a hubcap.

To our Olympic heroes, earning gold and hugs,

Except for the Sydney sinners hooked on drugs,

To grid great Gators, Hurricanes and Seminoles,

In a state of butterfly, Chad and dimple holes.

And to our readers we offer this cheer,

Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.