Twas the night before draft day, I sit in the hotel.
Not a pitcher was pitching, not even Dotel.
The keepers selected by Kenndoza with care
In the hopes that home runs will be hit by LaHair.
My leaguemates were nestled, snug in their beds
With visions of Dodgers, Padres, and Reds.
I lay there awake, no, not quite aslumber.
Why didn't I keep, that pitcher Phil Humber?
And I with the light on, I haven't quite slept
I worried that Votto, I shouldn't have kept.
He cost 52 – that's way too much dough.
For exactly half that, why not Konerko?
When o'er on my Mac, there arose such a clatter,
From my excellent spreadsheet of top pitchers and batters.
Away to the 'puter, I flew in a hurry.
I looked at it, frowned, and continued to worry.
My pitching is weak, my hitting ok
And I don't have enough money for Matt Holliday
CarGo and Kemp are not going to be mine
I've got to buy players – I only kept nine.
Did I keep the wrong Hudson, Daniel or Tim?
Do all my leaguemates think I'm really that dim?
What about Danks? Will he pitch well this year?
Will Josh Hamilton stay away from the beer?
Now Danny! Now Ian! The Washington Nats!
Now Aramis Ramirez bring all of your bats!
To the draft room in Lisle, on Warrenville Road
It's at Jimmy's office, not his abode.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my phone
The ringing of Julie, calling from home.
She said, "don't you worry, you know you can win.
And please don't forget, you don't want Tony Gwynn."
My confidence growing, at my wife's kindly call.
I could even ignore, the loud guy in the hall.
I closed my eyes tight, my fortunes were shifted.
Sleep, blissful sleep, my mind wonderfully drifted.
Two hours later, I awoke with alarm.
Once again bothered by Marcum's right arm.
Sleep now behind me, I turned on my computer
To read the bad news about Met Lucas Duda.
My strategy ruined, oh what can I do?
I knew this would happen. I just knew. I just knew!
I looked at my roster and frowned one again.
It's hard to buy studs with just a buck ten.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And filled all my spreadsheets, then turned with a jerk.
And laying my finger aside of my sheet
I told myself "Kenn, there will be no defeat!"
I sprang to my car, and put on some Dylan
I was quietly calm, I was suddenly chillin'
But I loudly exclaimed with a maniacal laugh
"Happy Draft Day to all! And to all, a good draft!"
Not a pitcher was pitching, not even Dotel.
The keepers selected by Kenndoza with care
In the hopes that home runs will be hit by LaHair.
My leaguemates were nestled, snug in their beds
With visions of Dodgers, Padres, and Reds.
I lay there awake, no, not quite aslumber.
Why didn't I keep, that pitcher Phil Humber?
And I with the light on, I haven't quite slept
I worried that Votto, I shouldn't have kept.
He cost 52 – that's way too much dough.
For exactly half that, why not Konerko?
When o'er on my Mac, there arose such a clatter,
From my excellent spreadsheet of top pitchers and batters.
Away to the 'puter, I flew in a hurry.
I looked at it, frowned, and continued to worry.
My pitching is weak, my hitting ok
And I don't have enough money for Matt Holliday
CarGo and Kemp are not going to be mine
I've got to buy players – I only kept nine.
Did I keep the wrong Hudson, Daniel or Tim?
Do all my leaguemates think I'm really that dim?
What about Danks? Will he pitch well this year?
Will Josh Hamilton stay away from the beer?
Now Danny! Now Ian! The Washington Nats!
Now Aramis Ramirez bring all of your bats!
To the draft room in Lisle, on Warrenville Road
It's at Jimmy's office, not his abode.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my phone
The ringing of Julie, calling from home.
She said, "don't you worry, you know you can win.
And please don't forget, you don't want Tony Gwynn."
My confidence growing, at my wife's kindly call.
I could even ignore, the loud guy in the hall.
I closed my eyes tight, my fortunes were shifted.
Sleep, blissful sleep, my mind wonderfully drifted.
Two hours later, I awoke with alarm.
Once again bothered by Marcum's right arm.
Sleep now behind me, I turned on my computer
To read the bad news about Met Lucas Duda.
My strategy ruined, oh what can I do?
I knew this would happen. I just knew. I just knew!
I looked at my roster and frowned one again.
It's hard to buy studs with just a buck ten.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And filled all my spreadsheets, then turned with a jerk.
And laying my finger aside of my sheet
I told myself "Kenn, there will be no defeat!"
I sprang to my car, and put on some Dylan
I was quietly calm, I was suddenly chillin'
But I loudly exclaimed with a maniacal laugh
"Happy Draft Day to all! And to all, a good draft!"