Merry Christmas and happy holidays to you and yours.
Personally, I’ve got my list, didn’t check it twice, and hopefully, you were able to be more naughty than nice.
But in appreciation for all of those in the local jock kingdom, first comes a thank-you for making life very interesting and entertaining, and second, my hypothetical gift-giving on Thursday will include some very familiar names.
The roll call, please:
Never miss a local story.
Rajon Rondo: Even being real new in town, you get a gift from me, Rajon. The gift of common sense. Listen to Rick. That’s it. That’s your common-sense gift.
We will dismiss your royal-pain-in-the-butt reputation, Rajon, if you will just listen to Rick.
Monta Ellis and Chandler Parsons: There’s a combo gift for you two guys. Trust in Rick. There’s an NBA theory out there that Rondo will not be good for your game, Monta, or yours, C.P. But guys, I give you the gift of Rick. Trust him.
Brandan Wright: As a going-away gift, Brandan, I give you this: honesty. I hate this damn Mavs trade. It’s stupid to hate this trade. But really, I do. I hate it, ’cause I love you, Brandan. It’s manly love, you understand.
Jason Garrett: My gift for you, a playoff win. Or two. Good people deserve a break. Red J is a good coach and good people. And he has to deal daily with a Football Idiot.
Jon Daniels: A clue. That’s my gift to you, Jon. A clue. You need one badly.
Dirk: A large gulp from the German fountain of youth. It’s a gift, Dirk, to hopefully hold off Father Time, who has been lurking already this season.
Yu Darvish: Just what you need, Yu. A pair of essential anatomy parts that are obviously missing. That’s my gift, or better yet, here’s a gift suggestion for you, Yu. Donate the rest of your body to Colby Lewis, who already has a large pair of what you’re missing.
Michael Young: Starched Wranglers and some Justin barn boots. You ain’t no suit, Michael. They need you to be one of them because it’s an ongoing P.R. disaster on the baseball side of Arlington. Never be one of those kind of suits.
Mark Cuban: For the man who has everything, I bring Cuban the gift of compromise. Your basketball financial gambles totally suck, but your verbal throw-down on the hypocrisy of gambling in professional sports was the best and most truthful comment of the year, any sport, any time.
(I need to quit you, Mark. But dang it, I read that, and I can’t quit you, man.)
Tyson Chandler: The gift of thanks, as in thanks for everything, big fella, but mainly for proving Cuban wrong for letting you walk in the first place.
The Richard Durrett Family: The gift of peace on the first Christmas without the nicest man and the skinniest Santa Claus in the world. No, seriously. Durrett WAS the nicest man and the skinniest Santa Claus in the world.
Rick Carlisle: Your gift, if I can pull it off, will be the Mavericks’ immediate transfer to the Eastern Conference of the NBA. Otherwise, Rick’s gift to us is being as stand-up a guy as you will ever find in any profession, much less coaching.
Tony Romo: My gift is an apology. An apology for doubting you a couple of times. Or 10 times. Or maybe 100 times. Never again, Tony, will I doubt you. Until Sunday, that is, if you throw three picks.
Ray Davis: Got no gifts for you, Ray. You have a trillion dollars. You don’t need a gift. But be advised there’s a place in baseball hell with your name on it.
Bob Simpson: I’ve got the gift of patience. That gift is not for you, Bob, it’s for me. I’m patiently waiting out the day when you step forward, man up, and admit, “I screwed up a damn good thing.” I know it will happen, Bob, because good people eventually man up.
Dez Bryant: More Philadelphia moments, that’s my gift for Dez. Much more of ultimate on-the-field production while providing positive bench vibes instead of a made-for-TV sideline sideshow.
Jerry Jones: Sorry, Jerry, there’s no gift for you. No matter if the Cowboys make the playoffs, no matter if they win a playoff game, or two, no booty for Jerry. Never forget, never forgive the Jerry-devised demise of the dynasty days in 1993.
(Even Santa asked me recently, “really now, 20-plus years? Isn’t that a long, long time to hold on to that kind of hate?” But Santa’s job is to keep Rudolph on course and get the gifts down the chimney on time. My job is to never forgive Jerry.)
Mike Maddux: My gift for Mike is, no, not a steady hand on the shoulder, but a big plate of chicken salad. It’s a symbol of what Maddux has to make out of the rotation stuff Jon Daniels keep serving him.
Jeff Banister: I’m gifting this new guy with a filter. What you hear privately, Jeff, about Ron Washington from Daniels and his Howdy Doody gang of local media, let it flow on by. Baseball-wise, Jeff, you want to be like Ron Washington.
Chandler Parsons: I know, this is my second gift for you, Chandler. But your gift this time is me asking for forgiveness about thinking there for a while that your game looked like a more expensive version of Lamar Odom. Lately, however, I have to admit this was an evil rush to judgment. Sorry, man, for such a dastardly insult.
Ron Washington: The gift of thanks for making our baseball team interesting and fun, and for putting the Rangers on the baseball map. All the best to you.
OK, that’s about it when it comes to jock kingdom gifts, but no matter if I didn’t have anything for you this morning, that doesn’t mean that come Thursday there won’t be a nice something under your tree.
Here’s hoping you hear the reindeer on your roof. Here’s hoping you spend the day at grandmomma’s with family and friends.
Have a good one.
Leave a message for Randy Galloway at 817-390-7697 or email him at email@example.com.