Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the city
The Badgers and Hurricanes were all getting ready.
The jerseys were hung by the lockers with care,
In hopes that the game was already here.

The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While music from their free iPods played in their heads.
And Bret in his windbreaker, and Paul in his cap,
Had just settled in Orlando again, no need for a map.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
John Clay sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he ran like a flash,
Waited for his line, confused by the sash.

The moon in the sky lit up the night
Unfortunately a bad city could be seen quite bright.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature quarterback, and eight tiny receivers.

With a little young driver, so lively and quick,
Clay watched Jacory as he threw another pick.
More rapid than eagles his teammates they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Byrd! Now, Cooper! Now, Franklin and Trump!
Where's Fox? That's right, his knee is a stump.
To the top of the rankings! Keep throwing the ball!
Now lose to North Carolina! Oh how the mighty, they fall!"

 

Clay grabbed his teammates and went to the roof,
"Your defense can't stop me, don't be a goof"
So up to the house-top the Canes they flew,
With a sleigh full of footballs, and Randy Shannon too.

He was dressed all in orange, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished as he stood there put.
A bundle of playbooks he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

Bret heard the commotion and hid all his dough
He ran to the roof and knew he could go 1-0.
"This speaks volumes of what we can do boys," he said.
"But save it for the bowl game. Let's go red!"

He was young and plump, a right jolly old coach,
And Randy laughed when he saw him, in spite of his self!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
His spiky hair made Randy know he had nothing to dread.

The Canes were all ready and wanted to battle,
But Randy said, "Wait, you're all ineligible."
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
Bret gave a nod, and wanted to be bros.

He sprang to his feet, to his team gave a whistle,
And away the Badgers all flew like the down of a thistle.
But Randy heard Bret exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, we'll kick your ass on the 29th!"