‘Twas the night before Christmas and throughout CBP
No one was happy, least of all Girardi
The winter meetings took place just a few days before,
Where they won a few battles but just lost the war.
For while Didi was fine and Wheeler some aid,
Neither portended a postseason parade.
But Klentak closed shut his laptop, content to fall short,
Saying: “I’ll deal with it later, when pitchers and catchers report.”
When out on Ashburn Alley there arose such a clatter,
It rose Andy McPhail and all the front office waste matter.
Away to the window they flew like a flash,
Along with the owner, who tripped over his cash.
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But two Cole’s – Hamels and Gerrit — not elsewhere but here!
And with the two pitchers were John Boggs and Scott Boras,
Agents floating about them like heavenly auras.
More rapid than eagles their suitors they came,
When they last pursed their lips and whistled their name:
Now Yankees, Now Dodgers, Now DC and Atlanta,
Who will pay our fair lads; become their baseball Santa?
The owner sighed deeply, his face wore a frown,
For the pitchers signed elsewhere and not for his town.
Aha, not so quick! Said Boras with glee,
If you promise us more, we’ll void those deals, you’ll see!
The owner whipped out his checkbook, thrilled at his luck,
Even though he knew well this would cost plenty a’buck.
Not so fast! so spoke Klentak, holding high his spray chart,
This Cole’s too expensive, that one’s an old fart.
But Gerrit's a winner, said the owner, and Hamels touches our hearts,
They’ll at least keep fans’ interest 'till training camp starts.
Humbug! Sneered Klentak, as he did not care,
"For we’ll beat out the Marlins; we don’t need this pair."
"Besides, we’ve got Nola, and we’ll put Kingery at third,
We’ll figure a way to polish this turd.
And what of Pivetta, Velasquez and Eflin?
Our bunch is better than this kid and that has-been."
McPhail then piped up, swearing that he knew best,
Though it had been many decades since he’d known success.
Their twin Cole offer, he said, was both nutty and crazy,
"Besides, we’ve got two Adams — both Morgan and Haseley."
So the owner said Pass! to Boggs and to Boras,
Who put their Coles back in their stockings and then tipped their fedoras.
"You’ll rue this cold evening when you had the chance,
To make your club better, to help it advance."
But the brass didn’t think so, for they were swimming in dough,
It just didn’t matter if they finished high or real low.
For fans bought Harper jerseys, bad food and their merch,
As if tithing to them, as if CBP were a church.
So as they sprang to their sleigh and gave their team a whistle,
The Coles and their agents saw Girardi shiver and bristle.
And to him they exclaimed as they drove out of sight:
Get out while you can — call back MLB Tonight!
