It’s New Year’s Eve, the last day of the year,
Where we remember 2012, and stand up and cheer.
The Heat may have won, with Bron, Bosh and Wade,
In a lockout shortened season, where 66 games were played.
But it’s a fresh season now, with all kinds of plots,
And my poem that I share is the greatest ever written by a
Lob City is lobbing, and never losing a match,
Even if Lamar Odom looks like he crushed down a Tollhouse
The Lakers struggled early, as the Mamba went mad,
Dwight Howard is a jerk, so I don’t feel really bad.
And even if Gatsby can help right the ship,
The Lakers aren’t going anywhere with that bench made of
The Thunder are fine, even without Mr. Beard,
Russ West and Velvet Hoop are enough to be feared.
In the East it’s the Knicks that have been dropping mad
Winning games and hitting threes with vigorous aplomb.
Those last two lines exemplify why this poem is so great,
And if it’s OK wit...