by Harry Cabluck - AP

It's Christmas! Football!

View full size photo »

‘Twas the night before Football, when all through "Dis Howse!"

Not a creature was stirring, because the grass got ripped out.

The jock straps were hung by the lockers to air

With hopes that St. Crotchrot would no longer be there.

The fan base were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of turnovers danced in their heads.

And Greg Davis in his sweatshorts and Mack with a Mack-clap,

Had just gone to the board to draw up a smooth inside trap.

When out on the field there arose such a clatter,

Mack sprang from the chalkboard to see what was the matter.

Away to the sidelines he flew like young Fozzy,

Flicked on Godzillatron and yelled for the Field Nazis.

The LCD adverts, with their capital-driven glow

Gave the luster of game-day to objects below.

When, what to Mack's wondering eyes should arise,

But an orange blocking sled, and eight suited-up guys!

With a man with a visor, so pumped and so amped,

Mack knew in a moment - it must be Muschamp!

Like wild hyenas they took sound angles to their prey,

And he swore and he shouted, and called them by name!

"Now, Kindle! now, Houston! now, Thomas and Gideon!

On, Norton! on, Roddrick! on, Williams and Keenan!

Do the disguised fire zone!  Now swarm to the ball!

Multiple! Multiple!  Be multiple, ya'll!

He sprang on the sled, and blew the hell out of his whistle,

And into the night the D carried their general.

But Mack heard him exclaim, as he flew out of sight,

"Bring me the head of one quarterback Saturday night!"

Muschamp is ready for football season.  Are you?