A Draft Day Poem

Twas the night before Draft Day, when all through Mays Field
Not a creature was stirring, not even Lou Seal.
The draft boards were hung by the 'puters with care,
In hopes that a big hitter soon would be there.

Giants fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of walk-off homers danced in their heads.
And Brian in his jersey, and Dick in his cap,
Had just settled their brains for a brief  pre-draft nap.

When out on the grass there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their seats to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen dew
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the field all anew.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a scoundrel in a sleigh, and some baseball play-ers.

With that little old driver, so greasy and fast,
I knew in a moment it must be Scott Boras.
More rapid than eagles his "advisees" they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Pedro! now, Eric! now, Alex and Nick!
On, Toolsy! On, Greedy! on, Overhyped, come quick!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! 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 Big Glove the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of bats, and St Boras too.

And then, in a twinkling, they heard nice and neat
The prancing and pawing of each little cleat.
As they drew in their heads, and were turning around,
Down the chimney St Boras came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all garnished with jewelry and loot.
A bundle of cash he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as green as his dough.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
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 smarmy old elf,
And they cringed when they saw him, and cowered themselves!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had so much to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And laid out all his contracts, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove right away,
"If you want to deal with St. Boras, get ready to PAY"