‘Twas the week before Dallas, and all through D.C.,
The fans placed their hope in their rookie QB.
The helmets were shiny, the pads cleaned with care,
With playoffs and title wins in the cross hair
The players were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of touchdowns danced in their heads.
The ball under center, poised ready for snap
Dreaming about the huge upcoming scrap
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
The night watchman jumped to see what was the matter.
Away down the hallway, flashlight tight in hand –
Threw open the door and stepped out to the stands.
The moon was not needed; the lights were all on.
He stared down to the field, and he tried to stay calm.
Twenty-two players, some short and some tall,
Lined up on the forty-five – playing football!
“Three-forty! Set hut! Set, hut!” came a shout.
Counter Trey executed, next a beautiful route.
The QB threw the ball, and it soared through the air –
It was perfectly placed, on the numbers hit square.
A whistle was blown – and the plays were now over.
Tired linemen were standing from shoulder to shoulder.
Their jerseys read “Grimm” and “Bostic” and “May”;
‘Twas the week before Dallas – ‘twas football they played.
He flew down to the field – that night guard was quick.
Surely just college kids’ elaborate trick.
He drew closer and saw – was that John Riggins there?
Yes, surely, these kids were just full of hot air.
And then, in a twinkling, the QB approached.
“Now listen here, boy – it’s my field, you’ve encroached.”
Said the watchman. But now, upon closer inspection;
He saw number seven – then made the connection.
Those eyes – how they twinkled! Those dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth had one tooth with a chip;
His hair was all wavy, he walked with a limp.
“We’re sorry for trespassing,” the player declared.
“But we’ve all heard that Dallas has actually dared
To come here and think they can beat this great team
Led by a rookie QB with a dream.
Up to the guard trotted the rest of the line;
Surely, the night guard was losing his mind.
Yes, Walker, Jacoby, and Manley, all there.
‘Twas the whole 1983 team brought to bear.
Theismann glanced toward his comrades with obvious pride
And with no hesitation went on to confide:
“We thought we’d come down for some practice, you see –“
“For, one Christmas; I, too, was a rookie QB.”
Then they spoke not a word, but went right back to work.
Taking great gulps of water and brushing off dirt.
Then, laying a finger aside of his nose,
Theismann back to scrimmage – to the end zone, they drove.
They sprang to their feet, as the ref blew the whistle.
And away to the locker room, they flew like a missile.
But the guard heard a shout, and it filled him with glee:
“Merry Christmas to all! But above all, RGIII!”
Hail.
Diane Chesebrough is Chief Editor, writer and photographer for Sports Journey Broadcast Network and member of the Pro Football Writers of America. Accredited media with the NFL, she has been a feature writer for several national magazines/periodicals. Follower her on Twitter: @DiChesebrough