'Twas the night before draft day...

'Twas the night before draft day, when all through the league not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The draft notes were set by the owners with care, in hopes that at draft turn, their guy would still be there.

The prospects were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of dollars danced in their heads. An agent and thief, a pen in his hand, had just settled his brains on a bonus that's mad.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

With a little old owner, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be cubs69. Larger than his Titans, from Vancouver that is, he first picked and he shouted and called them by name:

Regan! Now Johnson! Now, Peters and Ruiz! On, Gomez! On, Soto! Cedeno and Grissom! To the top of the list! To the top of the wall! Now sign away! Sign away! Sign away all!"

He sprang from his chair, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all signed with a quill and and the inkster. But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Draft Day to all, and to all some good luck!"

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