Another thread mentioned that draft felt like Christmas day. Then this must be the night before draft day...
'Twas the night before draft day, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
The mock drafts were tabbed on the laptop with care,
In hopes that a franchise quarterback soon would be here.
The fanatics were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Super Bowls danced in their heads.
And mamma in her Eli jersey and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for an afternoon nap.
When out on the message board there arose such a clatter,
I sprang out of bed to see what was the matter.
Away to BBI I flew like a flash,
Examined the threads, skipping the rehash trash.
With names on the board, like stars in the sky,
The Giants were ready, no time to be shy.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But Joe Schoen with his draft board,
Dabes holding his beer.
With a deals texted to the GMs so lively and quick,
I knew up his sleave, Schoen had a big trick.
More rapid than eagles he filled out the lines,
With metrics and measurements from the combines,
Now Thomas, now Neil, now Runyon, now Smitz, n’
On Eluemunor, get ready, to handle the blizten
To the top of MetLife! Still making his calls,
Now draft away! Draft away! Draft away all!
So up to Hart Plaza, the draft braintrust flew,
With a cache full of draft picks and Joe Schein too
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on twitter,
The asshats with their latest rumors a glitter.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
In came the Joe Schoen with a bound.
He was dressed all in blue, from his head to his foot,
And his eyes were like lasers, gelled hair color like soot;
A bundle of draft picks appeared as he opened his MAC,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
From linemen to playmakers, he chose with delight,
To strengthen our roster and put up a fight.
With each selection, the future grew bright,
For the New York Giants, with all of their might.
A wink of Joe’s eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled out the roster; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up in the first round he rose;
He sprang to his limo, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy draft day to all, and to all a good night!”
