Twas Tennis

Twas the night before the draw cutoff and all through the island
Not a ball was bouncing, The Heineken St. Croix Open was being planned.
The racquets were hung in Robert's office for stringing.
In hope that new cat gut would have them all singing.

The couples were nestled all snug in their beds,
Wondering if "Mixed Troubles" was going to make the hubbys lose their heads.
And Mama in her new Nike tennis skirt, and I in my old baseball cap,
Had just settled our wild two and a half year old down for his long winter's nap.

When out on the court there arose such a clatter.
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Away from the bar Armedariz flew spilling his beer.
Went out on the porch and screamed out a cheer.

The moon was cresting over court 4 way down there.
It was so bright it blinded Flavia's serve and she started to swear.
When what to my wondering beer goggles should appear.
But a hoard of tennis players wearing their new tennis gear.

Yelling at his juniors... "overhead, slice, topspin, winner"
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nuscher
More rapid than mongoose, his sarcastic wit came.
And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name.

Now Stampede, Now Julien DiCaprio, Now Zacharia on Fyah and Motta-vate,
On Christian Okoye, On GJ, On Karen What-the-Heck-man, and Alec-zander the Grape
To the top of the Porch!  To the top of the wall
Now dash left, dash right, and try not to fall.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricanes fly,
When the tourney starts and sun leaves the sky
So up to the bar, where the Heinekens flew
With a cooler full of liquor, wine and your favorite brew.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the courts
The "good lucks" and "love-loves" coming from all the good sports.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around.
Down the lawn came St. Mashburn with cans of balls to be spread by the pound.

He was dressed all in fur, with his annual wild white beard
And his clothes were covered in concrete and he was looking quite wierd.
He started to play, then yelled quite aloud (that would never happen)
But he had the game to back it up and make Mrs. "Claus" Mashburn quite proud.

Anda Panda's eye's were a twinkle, and his dimples how merry!
As he planned a rematch with Motta-vate and prayed to the tennis fairy.
His brow was all furrowed, as he thought out his plan
To take point after point and take down the man.

Liz-Sly-As-A-Fox was leading all the elves
As they prepared for the Heinekens to fly off the shelves
So sign your merry A$$es up. The draw closes Friday night!
Happy Tennis to all and to all a good fight!