By Matt Napolitano, Humor Columnist

‘Twas the night before finals week and all through the dorms,

Not a student was sleeping, not even…a word that rhymes with dorms…

The Four Loko cans were stacked by the leaky window with care,

In the hopes that a blackout soon would be there…

The NFL was nestled all snug in its strike,

While Roger Goodell fined Ochocinco for a spike…

And Belichick in his sweatshirt, and Brady in his Uggs,

Had just settled on making out during “Love and Other Drugs”…

When out in Minnesota, there arose a cracking sound,

I sprang from my laptop to find Brett Favre on the ground…

Away with his hip, his shoulder, and rib,

He’s retiring this season, definitely, we all know that’s a fib…

With a little old driver, so Swedish and quick,

I knew in a moment Tiger must be getting slick…

More rapid than Bolt his hookers they came,

And Tiger apologized and rehabbed and paid them by name!

Now Rachel! Now, Joslyn! Now Mindy and Holly!

On Cori! On Jaimee! On Jamie and Jamey!

To the top of the bed! To the top of the course!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away 2009’s purse!

As green lights before Hempstead Turnpike go,

When they meet with an obstacle, a coach on the road…

So up to the traffic light, the officers they flew,

With a Breathlyzer over the limit and handcuffs too.

With slicked back hair, Pecora exited our lives,

And went off to Fordham, where he keeps throwing knives…

A bundle of hair gel and green blazer on his back,

He looked like Ray Romano if he ate about 5 thousand Big Macs..

His eyes – how they dulled! His dimples – how botoxed!

His cheeks ran out words, but thinking the A-10 was better, he got outfoxed…

His fast running mouth fired out insults at the Pride,

Turns out he couldn’t win without Agudio by his side…

He was happy and loved, a happy shooting guard,

When he scored big, Nike paid him in cash – cold hard…

But in the blink of an eye, LeBron was no peach,

He said, So Long Cleveland, I’m off to South Beach…

He spoke not a word, and twittered not a tweet,

And laughed, because he thought life with Bosh and D-Wade was ever so sweet…

And laying in Miami, he soon felt the Heat takes it best,

Just picturing his loved ones hanging out with Delonte West…

So thus sums up sports in this 2010 year,

I write you these words at a desk with my cold beer…

This is a wish of happy holidays to all,

And the hopes you’ll remember, Greg Washington is really f–ing tall.

Just remember that Greg Washington is really f***ing tall. (Sean M. Gates/The Chronicle)