Twas the night before Xmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The suits in the Conference room had something to say,
To choose a Head Coach, was the order of the day.
Who do we pick, the choices are many,
The contracts' no issue, we'll pay every penny,
Our need for a defense, a QB as well,
Until we decide, it will freeze down in Hell.
But do not lose hope, folks,
We are well on our way,
To picking the right coach,
Should he be willing to stay.
Will it be Chamblin, or Dickerson
Even Worman is in the mix,
We will certainly find out,
Unless it's a fix.
Wait, just off the wires,
To the Riders Chamblin goes,
Are there any candidates left,
I guess nobody knows.
But I am still optimistic,
It's not yet a bust,
'cause forever I am told,
In Obie we trust.