Beautifully penned by centre_card
Twas the night before Tourney, when all through the Yum
not a Cardinal was stirring, not even a Crum
The unis were hung by the lockers with care,
in hopes that Coach Pitino soon would be there
The Smiths were nestled, all snug in their beds,
while visions of three-point shots danced in their heads
And Tupac in his thread, and Strong in his too
Had just settled in for a long winter's snooze
When out in the Garden there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter
Away to the TV I flew like a flash,
pushed hard on the volume and pumped up Bilas
The lights on the infrared of the new, dunking duds
gave the tarnish of defeat to opponents below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a monstrous Dieng and a skinny guard Ware
With a little fast point guard, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be Siva off of the pick
More rapid than eagles his forwards, they came
And he whistled, and shouted and called them by nam!
"Now Swop!" Now King! Now Smith and Smith too!"
On Gorgui! On Behanan! On Angel and Zach!
From the top of the key, to the baseline paint
Now steal and take away so dribble the opponent can't
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the floor
the stomping and screaming of Rick's loafers
As I drew up my head to the Chronicle site
On the thread came Santa Strong with a nasty big fight
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot
and his clothes were all infrared and jpeg'd to boot
A bundle of wins he had flung on his back
and he looked like young Schnellenberger, just ready to snap
His eyes how they twinkled! His smirk, how scary!
He said to our foes, "You'll not survive through February!"
His Santa cap perched with the appropriate swagger
that said, "Calhoun & Co." your teams are all blabber
With the tournament began, he brought victories so sweet
that Wildcats and Lobos collapsed at his feet
But I heard him explain, ‘ere he left for Phoenix's site
We'll be bringing the pain, Izzo, good riddance, Good Night!