A NASCAR Christmas
Jon Umbel
Issue date: 12/7/06 Section: Humor
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all around the track,
not a person was stirring, they'd all hit the sack.
The cars were parked in the garage with care,
in hopes that race day soon would be there.
The drivers were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of victory lane danced in their heads.
The pit crew in their firesuits, and I with my beer,
had just put down our headsets, right next to the driver's-side mirror.
When out on the course there arose such a clatter,
I closed up my toolbox to see what was the matter.
Away to the garage door I flew like a flash,
amidst all the grease and tires, a real mad dash.
The moon, it shined on the new-sealed tar
and glistened like clearcoat on a new, painted car.
When, what to my hazy eyes did I see,
but a miniature hauler parked out by turn three.
With a little old driver, with a hat and some rings,
I knew in a moment it must be The King.
More rapid than sprints, his drivers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Martin! Now Stewart!
Now, Vickers and Johnson!
On, Biffle! On, Jr.!
On, Kenseth and Gordon!
To the top of the apex!
Stay out of the wall!
Now drive away! Drive away!
Drive away all!"
And all of a sudden with a flick of a switch,
the engines they rumbled, brought the cars to life quick.
So 'round the track and corners they flew,
with the hauler full of cars, and Sir Richard, too.
And then, in a roar, I began to hear
the screeching of tires, the switching of gears.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the front stretch Mr. Petty came with a bound.
He was dressed in his firesuit, from his head to his toe,
and his clothes were all tarnished with carbon and oil.
An old window net he had flung on his back,
not a person was stirring, they'd all hit the sack.
The cars were parked in the garage with care,
in hopes that race day soon would be there.
The drivers were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of victory lane danced in their heads.
The pit crew in their firesuits, and I with my beer,
had just put down our headsets, right next to the driver's-side mirror.
When out on the course there arose such a clatter,
I closed up my toolbox to see what was the matter.
Away to the garage door I flew like a flash,
amidst all the grease and tires, a real mad dash.
The moon, it shined on the new-sealed tar
and glistened like clearcoat on a new, painted car.
When, what to my hazy eyes did I see,
but a miniature hauler parked out by turn three.
With a little old driver, with a hat and some rings,
I knew in a moment it must be The King.
More rapid than sprints, his drivers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Martin! Now Stewart!
Now, Vickers and Johnson!
On, Biffle! On, Jr.!
On, Kenseth and Gordon!
To the top of the apex!
Stay out of the wall!
Now drive away! Drive away!
Drive away all!"
And all of a sudden with a flick of a switch,
the engines they rumbled, brought the cars to life quick.
So 'round the track and corners they flew,
with the hauler full of cars, and Sir Richard, too.
And then, in a roar, I began to hear
the screeching of tires, the switching of gears.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the front stretch Mr. Petty came with a bound.
He was dressed in his firesuit, from his head to his toe,
and his clothes were all tarnished with carbon and oil.
An old window net he had flung on his back,
Viewing Comments 1 - 2 of 2
Grace
posted 12/07/06 @ 4:24 PM EST
This made me laugh hysterically. And I don't even watch NASCAR, my father does.
order brides
posted 3/23/10 @ 7:48 AM EST
wow, this brings back some great memories! it seems like just yesterday i was watching all of these great shows, and more great shows. this homecoming theme has been so much fun!
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