Happy Holidays from Cagewriter

Maggie Hendricks

What says "Happy Holidays" more than scowling fighters? Nothing! The fine folks at Playboy did a photo shoot with UFC stars Ryan Bader, Junior dos Santos, Dana White, Vitor Belfort, Stephan Bonnar and Jon Jones. You can catch it in the January issue, which has Pam Anderson on the cover, and apparently, a nude pictorial of a Russian spy. (With the possibility of a treaty between the U.S. and Russia, she's just planning for unemployment.) You should also check out the updated Yahoo! Sports pound-for-pound rankings, and read on for some MMA poetry.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the Octagon with care,

In hopes that St. Dana White soon would be there;

The fighters were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of bonuses danced in their heads;

When out on the Strip there arose such a sound,

Someone asked "Who is the best pound-for-pound!?"

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Thinking Silva or GSP -- they're straight cash.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature fighter, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, how could he go?

I knew in a moment it must be Jose Aldo.

More rapid than eagles his opponents they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Manny! now, Faber! now, Brown and Brookins!

On, Mickle! on Shoji! on, Nogueira and Swanson!

To the floor of the cage! to the canvas on the ring!

To knock you all out ain't no big thing!"

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Aldo came with a bound.

A bundle of belts he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His fists so strong, his kicks rather scary!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

Training to fight without a single quirk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!