Twas' the Night Before March Madness | Teen Ink

Twas' the Night Before March Madness

April 30, 2009
By josh barrett BRONZE, Bossier City, Louisiana
josh barrett BRONZE, Bossier City, Louisiana
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Twas’ the night before March Madness, and all through the office
Not a creature was working, not even Debra in accounting;
The employees were filling in their brackets with care;
In hopes that the money from the office pool, soon would be there;
The money was nestled in Paul’s arms with care;
While thoughts of stealing it, danced in his hair;
With Stacey in her Duke jersey, and I in my Zaga,
Had just called me a bracket bragga,
When from the printer arose such a chatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter,
Away to the copier I flew like Thabeet,
Tore open tray 1 and checked the sheet.
The paper in shreds put fear in all,
For the fear of firing fell unto all,
When, what should my wandering eyes should appear,
But a bracket with 8 tiny teamer,
With a tall team, so lively and quicket,
I knew in a moment it must be the bracket,
More rapid than Zaga my bracket came,
When I saw my elite 8 I chanted them by name;
Now, Pitt! Now, Duke! Now Zaga, and Cuse!
On, Louisville! On Michigan State! On UConn and Memphis!
To the opening round! To the Championship!
Now layups! Dunks and 3 pointers for all!
As teams like the Hurricanes were short and not tall,
With others like Creighton and Saint Mary’s were left out too.
And then with a twinkling I heard a funny view,
As I laughed in fear and turned around,
Dickey V’s winners came with a bound.
He was dressed in all red, with the image of a lady,
While after every winner he declared “Baby,”
A bundle of winners he gave in a pack,
His insight was merry, like that of the great Shaq,
His funny little mouth was about to say,
That Calhoun will not coach today,
With some powder on his face it must be yeast,
Like that of any fan of the Big East;
He had a little round belly that was out of shape,
That shook when ever he mentioned Ohio State,
He was older but wiser,
And had lots of touch, but I laughed at the old miser;
How could I ever pick against him,
For if I do I am sure to beat them;
A glint in his eye and a nod of his head,
Gave me a slight feeling of dread,
He spoke a slight word of his champion,
How could he pick a team like Dayton,
An 11 seed will never win it all,
I needed to give my brother a call;
He layed his bracket aside,
As he walked away in stride;
He laughed as he gave his champion team a whistle,
And away he went to tear down his tinsel;
But I heard him exclaim as he went out of sight,
“Oh baby to all, and to all a good opening round night.”


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