Twas the night before the Cupcake, when all thro' the Bank
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Jaysker;
The nets were hung by the basketball hoop with care,
In hopes that Coach Miles soon would be there;
The fans were nestled all snug on their couches,
While visions of Selection Sunday danced in their heads
And Papa Gordan in his 'kerchief, and Kidney in his cap,
Had just twisted our brains for a long message board spat-
When out on the court there arose such a clatter,
Miles sprang from the locker room to see what was the matter.
Away to the bench he flew like a flash,
Tore open the Gatorade jugs, and threw up the trash.
The ice rink outside has new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below;
When, what to Miles' wondering eyes should appear,
But a MAAC team, and eight players with hats,
With a little old coach, so lively and quick,
Miles' knew in a moment it must be an obligatory cupcake loss.
More rapid than Hatters their hats they came,