YES, Virginia, there are reasons aplenty to lift your voices to the sky this holiday season and rejoice. So without further ado . . .
“Do You See What I See?”
(As sung by Mets fans everywhere)
Said the Mets fan to the baseball gods
“Do you see what I see?”
(Do you see what I see?)
“Slipping through our hands, baseball gods . . .
“Do you see what I see?”
(Do you see what I see?)
“A choke, a choke, a wretched baseball joke
“It’s a gag job sure to provoke
“Night sweats, bad dreams, maybe a stroke.”
Said the Southpaw, over ‘F-A-N
“Do you know what I know?”
(Do you know what I know?)
As his mouth roared over ‘F-A-N
“Do you know what I know?”
(Do you know what I know?)
“The Mets, no threats, smoked like cigarettes
“On their grave we spin pirouettes!
“And there’s room in there for the Jets . . .”
“I Saw Cashman Bribe Sabathia”
(“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”)
I saw Cashman bribe Sabathia
With more money than a sheik could pay
He didn’t see me there
Make him a zillionaire
He didn’t know I saw him offer Chelsea and Times Square
Then I saw Cashman beg Sabathia
Not to go to Cal-i-for-nie-aaay
So he’ll splinter bats to shreds
(Plus the pre- and postgame spreads)
Now that Cashman paid CC . . . to . . . pla-a-ay!
“Happy Xmas (Favre is Over)”
(“Happy Xmas (War is Over)”)
So it’s December
And what have we here?
Another calamity
Another blown year
And so you’re a Jets fan
How long must you starve?
Through Vinny and Pennington
Through Boomer and Favre
Good luck in Seattle!
Good luck with the ‘Phins!
Good luck to the QB
Next month back in Kiln
“Plaxico”
(“Let It Snow”)
O, the passing game looks erratic
And Eli’s not so automatic
Where did the old swagger go?
Plaxico! Plaxico! Plaxico!
Well, the D’s hot as Pensacola
And for that, we thank Steve Spagnuolo
But what happened to the O?
Plaxico! Plaxico! Plaxico!
When you’re desperate on third down
Throw to Plax, then relax, he’s a rock
And when you’re going on the town
No worries, he’s got the Glock!
Well the offense may not be firing
And the season may be expiring
Seems karma is quid pro quo
Plaxico! Plaxico! Plaxico!
“Loud Garden”
(“White Christmas”)
I’m dreaming of a loud Garden
Just like the way it used to be
Where D’Antoni’s coaching
And LeBron’s approaching
The first banner since ’73
I’m dreaming of a loud Garden
Each night the current Knicks get plowed
Through ’09 and ’10 stay unbowed
So that soon your Garden will be loud.
(Mike Vaccaro’s e-mail address is michael.vaccaro@nypost.com. His book, “1941: The Greatest Year in Sports,” which makes a lovely Christmas present, is available in bookstores everywhere.)
