December 2020 I felt compelled to write a revised version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" (see below) partly because there was so little Free Agent movement.
This year, now with this blog and further frustrated by the MLB lockout, I give you the 2021 version of "Twas the Week of Christmas- LarryTheGM Style" - A Christmas Dream
'Twas the week of Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring or signing, not even Mrs. Correa's spouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Manfred-olas soon would seem to care;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of baseball games danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for this lockout to be a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open my CBA articles to see if it would lead to agreements again on the cash.
The moon on the heads of the lawyers arguing on the issues in the snow
Gave little hope of mid-month labor talks to the issues below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an agreement or two maybe, and at least eight others much more difficult to clear.
With a little old commissioner, so lively and quick to spin,
I knew in a moment to be Manfred and his kin.
More rapid than eagles a savior THEN came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called all by name;
"Now, Haren! now, Monfort! now, Meyer and Clark!
On, Owners! On, Players! On, Union and GMs!
To the top of the sport! to save it for all!
Now negotiate! negotiate! negotiate all!"
As CBA that before the lockout can end,
When they meet with an obstacle, none seemed to figure out a way to mend;
So up to the hotel conference rooms and offices they flew,
With the binders full of options, and bad ideas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the media
The dancing and cheering of real solution ideas.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down from the blog St. LarryTheGM came with the answers that made the sides bound.
He was dressed all in Astros gear, from his head to his toe,
And his wallet was filled with Season Ticket and Spring Training cash to blow.
A bundle of answers he had flung on his back,
And he looked at the two side demanding they stick to the facts.
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 white as the snow;
The list of answers he shared from his mouth,
And the smoke it cleared was like a strong wind from the south ;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed at them, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And they laughed when they saw him, in spite of themselves;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us all to know we had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his blog,
And pointed out for both sides all the issues he logged.
And pointing his finger at both clearly,
And giving them answers to save the sport he loves dearly,
He sprang up to make them shake hands,
And told the lawyers to figure out the details man,
But they heard him exclaim as he left out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and let's PLAY BALL in a few fortnight."
Now the 2020 version
Twas the week before Christmas and all through the land
very few free agents were signing not even Brad Hand.
Astros fans were hanging by Twitter with care,
In hopes that Saint George soon would sign there.
The Astros buddies were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of pennants without trash cans danced in their heads
While Brett in his blog and Eric in his podcast
Had just warned the fan base that the free agent wait may still last
When out on the field there arose such a clatter
Twitter sprang from their beds to see if the Click bait even did matter
Away to their screens they flew like a flash
Tore open every article hoping Jim Crane was spending his cash
The moon on the roof of Minute Maid Park without snow
Gave hopes of the lustre of middle relief succeeding in the show
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a great pitcher, and an outfielder that could run like a deer
With a not little and not old GM, so aptly named Click
We knew in a few months he would act like St. Nick
More rapidly they signed and quickly they came
And the team tweeted, we shouted, and called them by name!
Now Bregman, now Framber, now Yordan and Tucker,
On Bradley, on Hand, on you FAs we plucker
To the top of the standing, to even the Hall!
Now win away! Win away! Win away all!
As the fall dry leaves that before the fall classic fly
When the team meets with an obstacle, they soar to the Astros fan's rally cries
So to the World Series top the players they flew
With a clubhouse full of studs, and St. Dusty too
A Christmas Tradition Like No Other
Merry Christmas!
Original
Clement Clarke Moore - 1779-1863
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