Pros seek help from North Pole

Well it’s almost Christmas season, and through some contacts I have obtained various letters written to Santa Claus. Some ask for forgiveness, others request improved services. Regardless, Santa must respond to all letters.

Dear Santa,

I know I’ve done some bad things in my life, but do you think you could find a way to put the O.J. jury on my case? Given their propensity for overlooking overwhelming evidence in capital murder trials involving football stars, I would feel a lot more comfortable.

Thanks,

Rae Carruth

Prisoner #880931

Dear Santa,

Could you find it in your heart to get me an offensive line with more strength than the Golden Girls? I have more bruises than an Indiana point guard. I can’t take this punishment anymore.

Your favorite battered quarterback,

Drew Bledsoe

Dear Santa,

It’s me Daniel Snyder. I want my football team to score a few points. Is it asking too much to have them score a touchdown against the Giants, who are not exactly the 85 Bears?

Yours truly,

Danny

P.S. If you don’t give me what I want, I will fire you.

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a real good boy this year. I haven’t choked anyone and I’ve yet to receive a speeding ticket, so I have a lot of requests. I would like my teammates to play harder, I would like Glen Rice shipped out since his oversized rump invades my space and I would like my good friend Chris Webber (CWebb) to don a Knicks jersey next season.

Your Boy,

Latrell

Yo Santa,

The Answer here. My team is off to a good start, and I’d like that to continue. Also, do you think you could have a few people who aren’t relatives or members of my posse buy my album? Except, of course, for women, gays and those who aren’t “man enough to squeeze the trigger,” as my record so eloquently states.

One Love,

Allen

Dear St. Nick,

Could I get a clue?

Sincerely,

Rick “You-better-play-defense-or-I’m-gone” Pitino

Hey big fella,

Send food. Food, food, food. Preferably the four C’s: cupcakes, cheeseburgers, cookies and chips.

Your Bloated Big Man,

Shawn Kemp

Dear Santa,

Our playing days are almost over, and we feel a reservation in a nice rest home would be appropriate. Wheelchair accessible if possible.

Yours truly,

Chris Weinke, Patrick Ewing, and half of the Washington Redskins

And lastly—

Dear Santa,

Could we have just a shred of dignity? I realize our system does not work at all, and we select teams based on money and ratings instead of performance. Is that any reason that we must be mocked and not taken seriously?

Your friends,

The NCAA and the monster we created, the BCS

When Santa was looking through these letters, he had to let out a chuckle. It didn’t seem like he could accommodate many of these wishes. He had to try though. Let’s see what he came up with.

Santa:

Rae Carruth, huh? NFL player who committed a felony? Let me check my blotter. Hold on, it’s full. He’s the guy who killed a lady when driving drunk? No, that was Leonard Little. The guy who witnessed a murder after the Super Bowl and then lied to the police to protect his posse from criminal charges? No that’s Ray Lewis. Oh, Carruth. He’s the winner that hired someone to kill his pregnant girlfriend. Sorry, son, but we are not in Los Angeles, and Johnnie Cochran is not on your payroll. Soon you will find out what the omniscient Santa Claus already knows. Get used to that orange jumpsuit.

Drew, I’d love to help you, but I’m not a miracle worker. Besides, you have such great talent evaluators in Bill Belichick and Bob Kraft. I’m sure they can help you.

Daniel, my friend, whatever you want. You can have any overpaid senior citizen you want. Please let me keep my job though. Mrs. Claus would not react well to my termination.

Latrell, you have been a good boy. I will try to get Webber into NY, but it might be hard. Since the “brains” at MSG decided to take on Larry Johnson’s $12 million-a-year contract, it will be hard to swing. I will do my best though. But keep your hands off Jeff. I like that rumpled little guy.

Allen, your album is a favorite up here at the North Pole. Seriously, though, your team will be fine. In a weak Eastern Conference you should be able to make the Finals. The album will have trouble since, well, it sucks.

And Rick, are you serious? You seem to be a lost cause. I might be able to find a cushy college job for you, since it’s the one place you can succeed. Your players hate you. If you want them to play defense, tell them you would stay if they didn’t play defense.

Shawn, I’ll give it to you, but please slim down. You have so much talent and are wasting it due to your affinity for food. You are embarrassing your team and yourself.

Chris, Patrick and various Redskins, your home is waiting. Patrick, it is wheelchair accessible. It also has a nice ocean view, daily bingo and shuffleboard contests.

Lastly, for you goons at the NCAA. I’m supposed to like everyone, but I hate you. The reason you are getting mocked is that your entire organization is a joke. Unless you change your entire mindset, all right-thinking individuals will laugh at you.

I hope you enjoyed these letters. As you can see, even athletes don’t have it all. And for all you faithful readers out there, may your holidays be as joyous as our country’s athletes.