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'Twas the Night Before Suns-mas

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Christian Petersen/Getty Images

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the Stick,
The Suns had just finished shooting brick after brick.

The fans were all gone now, the atmosphere still,
And the air on the court had that wintry chill.

The front offices were empty and the locker room clear,
Which could mean only one thing — Santa had to be near.

The jingling of bells gave the old elf away,
When out from the night came his reindeer and sleigh.

Lit by the streetlights, he showed timely and fleet,
As his coursers drew his sleigh down Jefferson Street.

Nearing the main concourse, they slowed to a crawl,
Santa cleared out his throat and called to them all:

"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, and Dwight,"
(The reindeer playing Vixen was sick on this night.)

"I know the arena has got a new name,
But that’s our location one in the same."

He rallied his deer, and the sleigh went aloft,
Circled, then landed on the roof nice and soft.

There was no chimney atop but Santa scoffed and did say:
"With no chimney there’s no risk of a Santa flambé."

He wriggled and jiggled his way through a vent,
Navigating the ducts like a pro as he went.

He found the Suns’ lockers and dropped from the ceiling,
Then stretched out the cramp in his leg he’d been feeling.

Santa resembled Joe Proski decked out all in red,
And he felt holly jolly ‘til something filled him with dread.

He sensed something toxic that hung in the air,
A feeling of gloom that was mixed with despair.

The feeling was familiar; it was strongest in Philly,
I mean 1-30? Things are starting to get silly.

Kringle knew immediately the Suns lacked Christmas cheer,
And he intended to put an end to that here.

He dropped his bag to the floor and opened his pack,
Reached in and pulled the first gift from his sack.

For Bledsoe and Knight, some Stickum for their hands,
To prevent the basketball from flying up in the stands.

For Devin Booker he brought some Turtle Wax in a jar,
To protect against the tongue marks left on his car.

Tyson Chandler received a right hamstring that’s cured,
And Jon got a Bible that mentions our Leuer'd.

Archie Goodwin got skates; Alex Len got a smile,
While Mirza got gel to maintain that hairstyle.

P.J. Tucker got shoes (they are his obsession),
T.J. Warren received a second facial expression.

For Weems, Jefferson, and Cotton, he knew they’d prefer,
If he reminded coach Hornacek of who the three were.

Santa then turned to Price — no he hadn’t been ignored,
He made Ronnie the frontrunner for the Majerle Hustle Award.

And Santa brought Keef what he brought for Keef’s brother,
A promise that no one would ever text with their mother.

Finally to Jeff and his staff he gave an encouraging cat poster,
To help get them all through this tough roller coaster.

Santa returned to his sleigh and let out a sigh,
Got his reindeer in motion and took to the sky.

And as St. Nick flew away he exclaimed to those snoozing,
"Expect coal next year unless you knock off that losing!"