U is Unitas—the only thing squarer Than Johnny U's haircut: news with Jim Lehrer.
V's for Vince Carter, whose legs have more springs
Than the typical sportswriter's bathtub has rings.
W—Woods—has a fame that's gone global. He's got more tides than both Barnes and Noble.
X is the X-Games, whose dangers excite us.
All those nipple rings bear hepatitis.
Y is for Yogi, with brain transcendental: Ninety percent of his game was half mental.
Z is for Zimmer's breathtaking cranium,
One part Popeye and two parts titanium.
And Zzz is the sound we make when we snooze
And dream of a swing like Rodney Carew's,
Or a jumper like Bird's, swaying the nets,
Or offenses clicking like two castanets.
So hush little baby, and drift off to sleep, But don't waste time counting fluffy white sheep.
Count touchdowns and goals, until you've a bedful.
For life without sports, my child, would be dreadful.