Ho! Ho! Ho! No, it’s not Herman Cain addressing yet another accusation from a mistress, but the commercialized call representative of the birthday of that most famous religious figure, that leader of men, that otherworldly phenomenon, Tim Te—er, I mean, Jesus Christ. (Sometimes I forget that Tim Tebow’s birthday is actually August 14th. My new year’s resolution is to get a petition to Congress to make that day a national holiday, I don’t care how many doors I need to knock on and how many hours I need to stand outside of malls.)
It’s Christmas time, and it’s the time for giving, a time for all of <i>fankind</i> to come together as one and treat each other with hospitality and friendship. For all the animosity you show to each other, this is a time to put bygones aside. In fact, let bygones be bygones; help them to grow up and live fruitful bygone lives, raising little bygones of their own, and then let those bygones be bygones, perhaps settling an organic bygone commune out in the woods somewhere.
Now is the time to allow for all our fellow fans, be he decked in silver and black, teal, or green and yellow with a hunk of cheese on his head; be his field green or blue; whether his horns be hooked or his tide rolled, he deserves something this holiday season and Santa (shhhh! It’s actually just a fat guy in a red suit and hat with a white beard) is here to give it to him.
Now, without further ado, let us reach inside the satchel and distribute the presents to these most deserving sports entities:
To Tony LaRussa – a phone that works and a peaceful retirement.
To the NBA – a new commissioner, six fewer teams, and plenty of Barkley and Shaq commentary.
To Dirk Nowitzki – singing lessons.
To Frank McCourt – a one-way ticket out of Los Angeles (it’s really for his own good as Dodgers fans can be quite aggressive.)
To Dodgers fans – a new owner, preferably one who is a step up.
To Jerry Sandusky – a trip from Penn State to the state pen.
To the Texas Rangers – a hearty “A” for effort.
To Nelson Cruz – a better jump on the ball.
To the 1986 Boston Red Sox – the long overdue opportunity to throw away the Buckner footage.
To @d_rovell (Darren Rovell) – a singing career.
To Dan Patrick – more movie appearances.
To Tim Tebow – a watch with the correct time to start “Tebowtime” 45 minutes earlier.
To opponents of the Broncos – a fourth quarter to go along with the three they currently play.
To Cleveland – something. . . ANYTHING.
To Lebron James – a book on magic to help with his disappearing act during the NBA Finals.
To Chicago Cubs fans – hope, if but for just an offseason.
To the “unnamed source” in sports reports – the courage to come forward with your name.
To the “player to be named later” – a name, preferably something cool, like Nnamdi Asomugha, or I hear “Ron Artest” is available.
To Chad Ochocinco – permission to tweet as much as you’d like.
To Ndamakoung Suh – an offseason job as the glass breaker at Jewish weddings.
Jim Schwartz – dinner with Jim Harbaugh.
Jim Harbaugh – the chance to stand Jim Schwartz up at dinner.
To Brett Favre – another chance. . . to throw an ill-advised game-losing interception.
To Vince Young – a different dream.
To the late, great Al Davis – a team in heaven.
To Peyton Manning – a new neck.
Andrew Luck – a good real estate agent in Indianapolis.
Eli Manning – finally a seat at the head of the table at family gatherings
To Brigham Young University – consensual relations during basketball season.
Mark Cuban – an MLB franchise.
CC Sabathia – opt out clauses every year.
Los Angeles – a football team. . . for a few years before it leaves for somewhere else.
Manny Pacquiao – a fight with Floyd Mayweather.
Rex Ryan – a Bill Belichick dart board for his game room.
Donovan McNabb – a cushy studio job.
Tony Romo – a big game win.
Big East – a new name.
To the Bowl Championship Series – a little love. . . similar to the love Lennie shows a puppy in “Of Mice and Men.”
To Chris Paul – a string of championships with the Clippers.
To the Los Angeles Clippers – a larger share of the market (something tells me if they start to win, Lakers fans will jump on board).
To Albert Pujols – 254 million reasons why it’s not about the money.
And to Tito Francona – a more respectful, celebrated exit.
Finally, to all of you from all of me, I give to you another year of buzzer beaters, fantastic finishes, shocking upsets, gutsy performances, inspired efforts, and the thrill of victory without the agony of defeat. . . unless, of course, you’re playing Tim Tebow.