A Traditional Christmas . . . With the NBA

For months we suffered through a lockout
Now in low-post we hope they’ll block out.
For guys whose gift was dissed by a wife
Or can’t bear to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life”–
It’s Christmas Day—with the NBA.

Shoot-first guards, flat-footed centers
They’re all among the 1%-ers
And yet they hear no outraged howls
As long as they don’t draw six fouls.
It’s Christmas Day—with the NBA.

When, exactly, did this begin,
This chance to ignore your kith and kin,
And in-laws who are long-distance callers
By watching instead a bunch of ballers.
It’s Christmas Day—with the NBA.

I’ll bet you an ugly necktie that
Santa has no Chinese tat.
They probably mean something like “No smoking please”
Or “With two items white rice is free!”
It’s Christmas Day—with the NBA.

I think with pity of the Baby Jesus
Away in a manger, as his tuchus freezes.
Surrounded by oxen and also lambs
No flat-screen TV to watch monster jams—
It’s Christmas Day—with the NBA.

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