T’Was the night before Christmas
And there was only one small glitch
The athletes were in stinging pain
Ripped hands are a bitch!
They tossed and turned, raw wounds stinging in their beds
While visions of thin, smooth calluses danced in their heads
And I with my polysporin that got smeared all over my cap
Had reluctantly settled down for a messy winter’s nap
When near the pull-up bars there arose such a clatter
It was obvious to all nothing was the matter
Santa Class had RIPT kits for all hands to be tamed
And he whistled and shouted and called the products by name:
Now Daily Dose, now Quick Fix, now Grind Stone too!
On bees wax! On Shea butter! On Vitamin E! On leaf oil!
To to top of your clean and through the rings to all
Dash away rips, cracked and dry skin, dash away all!
With all natural ingredients, he smiled and gave a whistle,
It’s time for all hands to lose their thick callused thistles
From rowers to CrossFit athletes to gymnasts, left and right
Happy hands to all and to all a good night!