It's Christmas time, and this is the time of the year that makes me want to sing.

Fortunately for the Tribune readers, they can't hear me sing, they can only read the words. If my children were singing, it would be okay. You don't know how lucky you are I don't have my own radio show.

As always, I like to take the family around the neighborhood and sing Christmas carols. But so do other families and I hate to repeat the same songs even though they are classics.

So my solution is to write my own Christmas carols. Yes, original songs that not only entertain, but could quite possibly become classics of their own.

All right, maybe they aren't classics, but they are originals. And I still hope you, the readers, will enjoy this latest group of compositions.

Happy caroling.

Jingle Jail

(Tune: Jingle Bells)

Dashing in the seats

To find the guilty fan.

He hit me with a coke

I smacked him with my hand.

It caused an ugly fight

The crowd got out of hand.

And when things settled down

O'Neal sucker punched a fan.

(Chorus)

Oh, Ron Artest, you're under arrest

You caused a riot here.

You got burned by David Stern

Now you're sidelined for the year.

Joy To the Sox

(Tune: Joy To The World)

Joy to the world

The Red Sox won.

Bambino's curse is gone.

Curt Schilling pitched in pain.

And Ortiz won the big games.

(Chorus)

While the Fat Lady got to sing.

And the Yankees won't get rings.

And the Cubbies, the Cubbies are the new choke kings.

Joy to the world

The pitching's gone.

Free agents cost a ton.

Derek Lowe has flown the nest.

And Martinez is now a Met.

(Chorus)

While the Fat Lady got to sing.

And the Yankees won't get rings.

And the Cubbies, the Cubbies are the new choke kings.

Hark! Giambi Had To Sing

a.k.a. Bonds' Unholy Night

(Tune: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)

Hark! Giambi had to sing.

Told the lawyers ev'rything.

Enhanced his home run stroke

With a body built by BALCO folks.

Bonds rubbed in a crystal cream.

Now he's a home run machine.

(Chorus)

Said he didn't know what it was.

But his head's bigger than his glove.

Said he didn't know what it did.

Who the hell is he trying to kid?

The First Paycheck

(Tune: The First Noel)

The first paycheck

That Spreewell received.

Was for his little children

Who were weak and hungry.

On courts where he played

And yelled at his coach

He'll need more than money

For puttin' hands on his throat.

(Chorus)

No cash, no cash, no cash, no cash.

Ten million can't buy what it did in the past.

I Saw Kobe Kissing

Shaq O'Neal

(Tune: I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus)

I saw Kobe kissing Shaq O'Neal

Underneath the basket Christmas Day.

Kobe ran down the lane

And tried to explain,

That what he said to the cops

Was only to clear his name.

Then, I saw Kobe guarding Shaq O'Neal

As he went up for an easy shot.

Shaq made a move, and Kobe hit the wood.

Phil Jackson should've seen

Kobe kissing Shaq O'Neal last night.

Let Butch Go!

(Tune: Let It Snow!)

Oh, the passing game is frightning,

And the running game is sick'ning.

This offensive scheme really blows,

Let Butch go, let Butch go, let Butch go.

The defense shows no signs of stoppin',

And injured linemen keep on droppin'.

It's a season that's filled with woe,

Let Butch go, let Butch go, let Butch go.

Merry Christmas!

Jim Walker is The Ironton Tribune sports editor.