The Day Before
Christmas
T’was the day before Christmas and all
through the field
Not a base runner stirred, not a run
did we yield.
We all tapped our bats on Home plate
with great care
We hoped to round the bases and end up
back there.
My teammates were nestled all snug in
uniform threads
With visions of homeruns dancing in
their heads.
Mama in the stands and I in my ball cap
Had come down to Florida to avoid a
cold snap.
When out on the grass there arose such
a clatter
I sprang from the bench to see what’s
the matter.
Away to the field, I flew like a flash.
Knocked down a few bats, while doing my
mad dash.
The sun was on the horizon, just above
a palm tree.
As I starred and rubbed my eyes, I was
filled with glee.
What to my wandering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny
reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and
quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than a throw to first, his
coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and
called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now,
Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and
Blitzen!
To the top of the dugout roof, from the
top of the homerun wall
Now dash away, dash away, dash away
all.
As palm branches that before a wild
hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount
to the sky.
So up to the dugout roof, the coursers
they flew,
With the sleigh full of bats, and St
Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on
the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little
hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning
around,
Down the front fence St Nicholas came
with a bound.
He was dressed in a softball uniform,
from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished like
he had slide into second, in soot.
A bundle of softball gear 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 catcher’s glove.
And the beard of his chin was as white
as a dove.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in
his teeth,
And the smoke from it encircled the
diamond like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round
belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a
bowlful of jelly!
His appearance was like many senior
softball players we know,
A bit too much weight and white hair
that seemed to glow.
As he looked over the field with a
twinkle in his eye
I saw in Santa’s heart, he wanted to
make a softball fly.
He spoke not a word but went straight
to his work
Filled the dugout with new bats, left a
few gloves as a perk.
Lying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, to the top of the
roof he arose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team
gave a whistle,
Away they all flew, a line drive hit
like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove
out of sight,
“I’ll be back to play ball, after
Christmas night.”
Written by: Nick Matta
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