by Jor Bratko, Danny Rose and the Christmas Clash Tab Room 2013
Twas the night before Christmas Clash, when all through the houses,
Every debater was researching, furiously clicking their mouses.
The printers were churning out paper in bunches,
In hopes that evidence would back up their hunches.
Parents wishing they were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of NITOC danced in their heads...
They packed up the lunches, and studied the maps,
When out of the printer there arose such a clatter,
A paper jam, curses!, find out what’s the matter?
The paper all cleared, and the printer rebooted.
They finished their research and to bed they scooted.
No traffic was seen on the roads the next morning.Nonetheless, they ran late, time passed without warning.
Check in was rushed through, registration completed,
Briefcases were parked and old friends were all greeted.
They were dressed all in suits, with some pants or a skirt.
They were lint rolled and coiffed, with a wellironed shirt.
They looked like they knew every figure and factOnly their partners knew / just how much was an act.
With a tournament director, so thorough and friendly,
We knew in a moment it must be Barb Lindsay.
She stepped to the fore, ‘mid cases on the ground.
She whistled and shouted and posted the round.
"Now Timers! Now Judges! and Teams not, half hearted!
Get Ballots, Check Postings, Find Rooms and get started!
Take your stuff and get going, be careful, don’t fall.
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
And then, in a twinkling, the plaza deserted,
In rooms all the handshakes were just getting started.
The 1ACs were read, the crossxes, were Xed,
The Constructives were done, the rebuttals were next.
Wasting not a word, they went straight to work
Backed by solid sources and without the slightest smirk
Presented their cases with such perfect prose,Their Judges persuaded, up the standings they rose!
With the scores all recorded, the Tab King arose,
Read out the awards, heard the claps, blew his nose.
Then they heard him exclaim, “Enough is enough,
Happy Christmas to all, Now pick up your stuff.”
Bonus stanza:
With fire in their eyes, while the lectern they pounded
Passion stood in for arguments wellfounded
The rounds all finished when the timers cried “Time!”
Then judges filled ballots, (I can’t think of a rhyme).
(c) 2013, Jor Bratko and Danny Rose, All Rights Reserved