Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The minutes are force-fed by D’Antoni with care
Just praying Chris Duhon won’t collapse from wear and tear.
The kiddies were nestled in at the end of the bench
With visions of playing, even hitting shots in a pinch.
Daddy Walsh in his kerchief, Mamma D’Antoni in her cap
Had just settled down for an early season nap.
When out of the the Garden there arose such a clatter
Walsh sprung from his nap to see what was the matter.
He got up and ran to turn on his big screen TV.
The channel was already set to get MSG.
Clyde wondered aloud who might start to percolate.
Breen was, as usual, just hating on Nate.
Jared Flippin’ Jeffries had just hit a three.
To push the Knicks forward. To thwart a big rally.
Suddenly a rooster, all of six foot and ten
Began pulling down boards and going to the tin.
Lee stuffed the stat sheet till we’d all had our fill.
Then we hit ‘em again with a dose of Ill Will.
Without a single word Walsh went straight to his cell
To see if anyone had a cap friendly player to sell.
It ain’t even New Years, better sell while they’re hot.
Jeffries may just keep ballin’ but most likely he will not.
Gotta watch my pennies. Gotta watch my pounds.
Gotta focus on this summer, when free agents abound.
The Chosen One will come to save us from this mess*.
Until then, Merry Knicksmas to all–in seven Seconds or Less!
* yeah, right.