’Twas three nights before Christmas
When all through the town
Not a creature was holding –
Not even Spence Brown.
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The Bills, they were nestled
All snug in their beds
While visions of rushing yards
Messed with their heads.
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Next up are the Pats.
Oh, my – how we hate them!
People are also reading…
Beware of their footballs.
(And how they inflate them.)
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The last time, at Highmark,
When da Bills played da Pats:
They ran up the middle!
They ran in the flats!
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Now the game shifts to England
(The one that is New)
And da Bills must yield less ground
Than Two-Twenty-Two.
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The last time, these Bills,
They got blocked far and near
And got run over as if
By yon rapid reindeer.
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The Pats ran and ran,
Only three times they passed.
(Just don’t ask the Bills’ D
If they are embarrassed.)
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Mac Jones handed off.
(He is no passing fancy.)
Next time in the pocket
Make him feel antsy-pantsy.
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The Bills lost to The Hoodie
And then lost to Brady
(Who owns our dear Bills
Like a lordly landlady).
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These Bills finally beat
The kickerless Panthers
But don’t look to that win
For all of the answers.
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The win da Bills want,
The win that’s a must,
Stands before them at last.
(In Josh Allen we trust.)
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Da Bills can still win
The ol’ AFC East
But first they must slay
The reviled Foxborough beast.
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That’s the one gift we want
To find under the tree:
A win in New England!
(Plus a four-game win spree.)
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The cleats are all hung
In the clubhouse with care
Now it’s time for da Bills
To trap Pats in their lair.
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Beat ’em on a trick play,
Or a boot by Ty Bass.
Just make double-sure
That the Bills kick their ...
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If that’s wrong to say in
This season of giving,
Then you don’t understand:
We loathe Pats for a living!
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So, yes, Peace on Earth
(And good will to men.)
Just hold those darn Pats
To fourth-down-and-ten.
*
Have a nice Christmas Eve
And a nice Christmas night
But on the day after Christmas —
It is quite right to smite!
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In the meantime, feel free
To sneak a few swigs
From a fan in the front row
(Just like Stefon Diggs.)
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Bills Mafia sends taunts
To their Bostonian brethren
With a billboard to make ’em
Take two dozen Excedrin.
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The sign says that Bills fans
Are the best in the land.
We know this as fact:
So let’s strike up the band!
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Lift a cold Labatt Blue
(Or some other beer’s label)
And then smash through the Pats
Like some cheap folding table.
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When out on the turf
There arose such a clatter
That Josh sprang from his bed
To see what was the matter.
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When what to his wondering eyes
Should appear:
But a healthier O-line!
(Now that’s cause to cheer.)
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St. Nick offered a smile
And then gave a wink,
Called for his reindeer –
And was off in a blink.
*
But ere he drove out of sight
I heard him exclaim:
“Happy Christmas to all,
And to all a good game!”
Apologies to Clement C. “Booker” Moore
