‘Twas the night before Christmas at the AT&T Center,
Things were winding down for the first cold of winter;
The doors had been closed and the staff were all out,
But I made my way in to take a walk about.
The halls like a ghost town, the lounge had no man;
No Bonner, no Weiss, no Elliott, no Land;
I expected any moment to be sent into the night,
But turn after turn no usher in sight.
But off in the distance I heard a small holler,
It arose with each step and so I continued to follow;
From outside Whataburger the noise came, I was certain,
I ran toward the arena and pushed on through the curtain.