Twas’ the Night Before Grinders Christmas: 

Twas the night before Grinders Christmas, all set on the court,

Sneakers squeaked echoes of chaos and sport.

Beers at the bar lined the counter in rows,

While hot takes were flowing as fast as they’d go.

Out of the shadows a rumor took flight,

Captain Tirado went missing, vanished that night—

Then BANG BANGIN’ rang out, a dramatic bookend,

A wild disappearing act, then this is how it ends?

Antonio Witt hit the floor, what a scene,

That injury looked straight off a movie screen.

While Richie’s hands broken, wrapped stiff, taped and sore,

Still tried to keep shooting—logic ignored.

Crazy ran amock, just chaos in shoes,

As Tommy yelled loudly till his team sang the blues.

Pauly P blocked subs like a bouncer at ten,

“No one is checking in’!”—not now, not then!

Jimmy and Curt, yeah, unfair was the cry,

Whistles went missing when they happened to try.

And Kellen played like 2011 LeBron,

Disappeared when it mattered, the confidence gone.

Gersitz, distracted, his mind far away,

Too focused on laundromats spinning all day.

While Jeff May fired shots in signal chat fire,

Random disses launched with unprompted desire.

Danny kept coughing, just couldn’t get clear,

Hack after hack echoing gym walls all year.

But Salvati, the fifth man, put the team on his back,

Quietly carried while others went slack.

Chaz ripped Cole’s MVP from his floppin’ behind,

A theft for the ages, still blows Coles mind.

Alec shot from the Great Divide, deep and insane,

Launching prayers that defied space and plane.

Paul J and Boccio showed football hands flair,

Catching wild passes that shouldn’t be there.

Bobby Swags stayed swaggin’, drip fully intact,

While Bryant—controlled?! Hows about that.

E kept podcasting, mic always hot,

Breaking down games like Cole likes to flop

Chuck stayed chuckin’, let it fly, never froze,

While Worm kept shugin’—elbows! Your nose!

Garrett hit the inhaler, gasped then attacked,

Second-wind buckets—medically backed.

Justin stayed tall, towering still,

Kale stayed produce, farm-fresh skilled

Peyton had angry spurts, fire then peace,

While Jon U delivered a stellar season, hehe!

Little Josh subbed in—a rare sacred sight,

Like spotting a comet mid-game on a night.

Lanzot and Ben—oh boy—did they make it?! 

Corey Angel Reesing grabbed rebounds all day,

Board after board in a dominant way.

And Cole did not win, despite all the jeering,

Not this time around, since Wayne cant carry!

So raise up those beers as the legends are spun,

Enjoy it while it lasts—because Curt won.

Yes Curt took the crown, let the prophecy run…

The apocalypse is here. Merry Christmas. WE’RE DONE!!!!!!!!!🎄🍻

Twas the night before Grinders Christmas, and all through the gym,
Not a player was stirring, the lights were all dim.
The jerseys were hung in the lockers with care,
In hopes that the championship soon would be there.

The players were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While visions of step-backs danced in their heads.
With Pauly P meditating, so calm in the night,
And Salvati still covering his ears from the fright.

When out on the court, there arose such a clatter,
Richie destroyed a chair—it just couldn’t matter.
Wayne’s shoulders collided, creating a scene,
While Crazy kept running like a well-oiled machine.

The moon on the rim of the freshly waxed floor,
Lit up Big Josh chasing Little Josh once more.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Bryant with 100 shots—and not a single fear.

With a flopper named Witt, so lively and quick,
And Cole smack-talking with his usual shtick.
“Now Chuck! Now Tirado! Now, Peyton and Zack!
On, Justin! On Garrett! Bring the girls right back!”

“To the top of the key! To the arc where we shoot!
Now hustle and dive, before the buzzer’s salute!”
And there stood Jon U, ready for a brawl,
As he tackled poor Tommy like a wrecking ball.

At the laundromat, Gersitz folded his gear,
While Ford sipped spiked milkshakes, spreading some cheer.
Matt V stayed in Baltimore, missing the game,
And Nixon hit Vegas, adding flair to his name.

Kellen knelt low, one knee on the ground,
While Grant stayed so quiet, not making a sound.
Curtis missed playoffs, yet again unclutch.
And Pauly J returned with that veteran touch.

Chuck was chucking threes, with reckless delight,
While Hall of Fame E dished assists all night.
Zack yelled at everyone, keeping them straight,
While Garrett’s girl cheered, arriving fashionably late.

Then the horn blew loudly, and Salvati ducked low,
Team Cole took the title, the show of all shows.
But as they celebrated, a truth came to light,
The Grinders will be back to keep up the fight.

So here’s to the chaos, the laughs, and the fun,
Merry Grinders to all—see you for the next one!