|(Property of Paul Kim)|
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the gym,
All the gymnasts were gone even little Ashton Kim.
As I sat by the beam and composed a new post,
I heard a loud sound I thought must be a ghost.
So I looked around quickly while feeling quite scared,
And jumped a whole foot when some floor music blared,
‘Twas the worst I had heard, and I let out a squeal,
I heard George of the Jungle like Jessie DeZiel’s.
Meanwhile I’m still worried, I had not a clue,
Of who was there with me or what I should do,
So I turned around swiftly and called out “Who’s there?”
And I saw an old man with some furry white hair.
He said “Merry Christmas” and laughed “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
And wore a red hat that was covered with snow,
He told me right then that he'd help me out,
And that granting my wishes is what he’s about.
So I thought and I thought and I wrote a whole list,
And checked it again to see if I had missed,
Any hopes that I had as I sat by the beam,
And I told him my wishes for our US Team:
“Why is it true that we send all our men,
To many World Cup Meets again and again,
Meanwhile all the women just sit at home here,
And only go out for just three meets a year?”
“Also,” I said, “could you maybe change,
the selection process we all find quite strange?
Camp after camp leaves many girls hurt,
And looking like they’ve been starving in the desert.”
Then he looked at me sadly with tears in his eyes,
And said, “No, I’m sorry,” and let out a sigh.
“Why, you’re no help at all,” I said to the old man,
“Why’d you say that you’d help me? I don’t understand!”
“Well it’s not up to me, I don’t have any say,
any more than Rybacki, Chow or Brandie Jay,
it may not make sense and it may be quite weird,
but that’s how it has been since old Marta appeared.”
“But think about this,” the man said with a smile,
“We’ve medaled each year for a very long while,
While she's not understood by you and your readers,
Maybe old Marta K. is a pretty good leader.”
Though I still had some doubts, I was full of good cheer,
so I thought I’d give Marta a break this year,
After all, if Santa can give her a chance,
Maybe I shouldn’t judge her without second glance.
As the man walked away, I exclaimed “Holy Moly!
That man isn’t Santa, he’s Bela Karolyi!”
He said something then as he left in the cold:
“Merry Christmas to all and USA for the gold!”