From CNN/Sports Illustrated...
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through L.A.,
Lakers fans were on edge, they had little to say
The Kings were all set, they had nothing to fear
so long as Shaq’s toe would continue to flare.
C-Webb and Vlade were snug in their beds,
While visions of Horry’s shot danced in their heads;
Had his miracle trey not gone down in Game 4,
They wouldn’t be needing to settle this score!
When out on the lawn a loud engine did roar,
I sprang from the bed to see what was in store.
Away to the window I flew like the Glove,
Tore open the shutters and peered down from above.
The smog over L.A. was heavy that night
I had to squint real hard just to make out the sight,
But there, on the grass, holding a book about Zen
was a coach on a Harley, and eight rather large men.
The tall bearded driver looked ready for action,
I knew right away it must be Phil Jackson.
In purple and gold, his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Kobe! now, Devean! now Shaq and Samaki!
On, Derek! on Robert! On Slava and Foxy!
Let’s regain our form! Let’s answer the call!
And show the hoops world we still can play ball!"
Three-time champs, it was clear, they still had their pride,
They felt this one game would sure change the tide.
So off to the Staples the Lakers they flew,
With their triangle offense, and Tex Winter too.
Just then, from my rec room, I heard on the tube,
an old sound-bite from Phil calling all Kings fans rubes.
As I laughed at the mind game, and turned right around,
Down the chimney Rick Adelman came with a bound.
He was dressed in Armani, from his head to his foot,
And his suit was all tarnished with ashes and soot;
His GM Geoff Petrie, was there at his side,
They looked like two guys just bursting with pride.
Their eyes -- how they twinkled! They almost were misty!
It was like they’d just seen a slam dunk by Doug Christie!
They offered no trash talk or Zen-like bon mots
They said it would come down to who made more shots.
But with the NBA standings held tight in his fist,
The coach made it clear he was still feeling dissed:
"Last year we worked so hard for first place;
Then the refs cost us Game 6. Such a disgrace!"
Like the Spurs, Mavs and others, he burned with high hopes
Of winning the title, and silencing dopes;
While Shaq might have Kobe and Kobe might have Shaq
His Kings, the coach noted, had a more balanced attack.
So as America sits down for this Christmas Day game,
C-Webb and Peja will try to clear their team’s name,
Their coach, as he left, swore they have what it takes;
To prove they’re not ‘Queens,’ not champion fakes.
Adelman sprang to his car, his boss at his side,
Down the Sunset Strip they went for a ride.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"May the best team win! Merry Christmas. Good night."
Marty Burns covers pro basketball for CNNSI.com. Click here to send Marty a question or comment.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through L.A.,
Lakers fans were on edge, they had little to say
The Kings were all set, they had nothing to fear
so long as Shaq’s toe would continue to flare.
C-Webb and Vlade were snug in their beds,
While visions of Horry’s shot danced in their heads;
Had his miracle trey not gone down in Game 4,
They wouldn’t be needing to settle this score!
When out on the lawn a loud engine did roar,
I sprang from the bed to see what was in store.
Away to the window I flew like the Glove,
Tore open the shutters and peered down from above.
The smog over L.A. was heavy that night
I had to squint real hard just to make out the sight,
But there, on the grass, holding a book about Zen
was a coach on a Harley, and eight rather large men.
The tall bearded driver looked ready for action,
I knew right away it must be Phil Jackson.
In purple and gold, his players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Kobe! now, Devean! now Shaq and Samaki!
On, Derek! on Robert! On Slava and Foxy!
Let’s regain our form! Let’s answer the call!
And show the hoops world we still can play ball!"
Three-time champs, it was clear, they still had their pride,
They felt this one game would sure change the tide.
So off to the Staples the Lakers they flew,
With their triangle offense, and Tex Winter too.
Just then, from my rec room, I heard on the tube,
an old sound-bite from Phil calling all Kings fans rubes.
As I laughed at the mind game, and turned right around,
Down the chimney Rick Adelman came with a bound.
He was dressed in Armani, from his head to his foot,
And his suit was all tarnished with ashes and soot;
His GM Geoff Petrie, was there at his side,
They looked like two guys just bursting with pride.
Their eyes -- how they twinkled! They almost were misty!
It was like they’d just seen a slam dunk by Doug Christie!
They offered no trash talk or Zen-like bon mots
They said it would come down to who made more shots.
But with the NBA standings held tight in his fist,
The coach made it clear he was still feeling dissed:
"Last year we worked so hard for first place;
Then the refs cost us Game 6. Such a disgrace!"
Like the Spurs, Mavs and others, he burned with high hopes
Of winning the title, and silencing dopes;
While Shaq might have Kobe and Kobe might have Shaq
His Kings, the coach noted, had a more balanced attack.
So as America sits down for this Christmas Day game,
C-Webb and Peja will try to clear their team’s name,
Their coach, as he left, swore they have what it takes;
To prove they’re not ‘Queens,’ not champion fakes.
Adelman sprang to his car, his boss at his side,
Down the Sunset Strip they went for a ride.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"May the best team win! Merry Christmas. Good night."
Marty Burns covers pro basketball for CNNSI.com. Click here to send Marty a question or comment.
