By Sue Berner

Christmas was coming; Maine West was excited.
A big game was planned and the Hawks were invited.
A Warrior victory was surely expected.
But foul play from the Chicken Hawks was also suspected.

In the decorated locker room, Coach held a review
Of the secret important play, X‑32.
But none of the Warriors could possibly know
Of the miniature microphone in the mistletoe.

The day of the big game was finally here.
Those Hawks were all grinning from ear to Hawk ear.
They thought they could conquer the Warrior team,
But things are not always the way that things seem.

The game had begun with the Hawks in the lead.
They thought that West's secret was all that they'd need.
By the start of the fourth, ahead 20 to zip.
Every Chicken Hawk there had a smirk on his lip.

The Warrior fans could not understand.
They knew that they had the best team in the land.
But they had more than that on their side, my dear.
They had a fat man with a snowy white beard.

Seemed Santa'd been listening to South's secret talks.
He knew their plot. Them dirty Chicken Hawks
Arrived at the gym, none knew why he was there.
Thundered, No gifts for you. Chicken Hawks, if you don't play fair!''

The Hawks were shaking in their tennis shoes.
So nervous the fans were, just certain they'd lose.
And lose they did, cause even Chicken Hawks know
That Santa is watching, wherever you go.