Twas the night before Crootsmas,
when, from sea to shining sea,
Not a sicko was stirring, not even Liucci;
My cash was stuffed in duffels with care,
In hopes that The Bagman soon would be there;
The 'croots were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of NIL danced in their heads;
And mamma in her jersey, and I in my ballcap,
Had just set down our phones for a long winter’s nap,
When out on Twitter (now X) there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the internet I flew like a flash,
Tore open a browser and Googled a dash.
The moon through the window and onto the screen,
Was bright as a lens flare, a blinding sheen.
When, what my wondering eyes did see,
But a 5 Star flip for the Fightin' Texas Aggies.
With a little old checkmark, so bright and blue,
I knew it meant nothing in this Twitter of new.
More rapid than eagles the predictions they came,
And I browsed, and refreshed, and marked them by name:
"Now, Rivals! now, 247! Now, ESPN, now On3!
Is this really happening, or is it just me?!
To the top of the rankings! To the top of the list!"
I whispered aloud while pumping my fist.
As the offense that before Ol' Jimbo could fly,
When they met a stout run D, would take to the sky;
So out in the Twitterverse the pundits they flew,
With the posts full of shock, and hashtags too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my phone
The melodic hum of my ringtone.
As I picked up my phone, and unlocked the screen,
Through the window The Bagman appeared at a lean.
He was dressed all in black, from his head to his foot,
And his eyes were covered with sunglasses to boot;
A bundle of bags he had flung on his shoulder,
And if I'm honest, I thought Bagmen were older.
His smile—how it twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, he was a little bit scary!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fake beard on his chin was as white as snow;
The stump of a cig he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
He'd been sweating a lot, so he was a bit smelly;
He was chubby and plump, a total dadbod,
And I laughed when I saw him, 'cause this was all very odd;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had not been misled;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And he picked up my duffels; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger just under his nose,
He took a quick snort, and his head quickly rose;
He sprang to his Tesla, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a Tomahawk missile;
But I heard him exclaim, as he continued his route,
"Merry Crootsmas to all, and don't @ the recruits!"