'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even Jack Roush.

Snuggly in bed laid the cat in the hat, for him the holiday's arrived early, when he received the ultimate present, a championship from a driver named Matt.

Content as can be, Kenseth and crew chief Robbie Reiser were temporarily idle, as visions danced in their heads, of winning back to back titles.

Throughout NASCAR Nation, the competition was resting, knowing in just a few weeks they'll load up their transporters and head to Daytona for testing.

In 2004, 36 races will be run, as an ESPN reporter, I'll cover every one.

During the 10-month season more than 14,000 circuits will be completed, lap after lap, preparing myself for the grind, I had just settled down for a short winter's nap.

I pulled down the shades, the room was pitch black, then arouse a familiar roar, it sounded like a racetrack.

Out in the driveway there was a souped-up old sleigh, it was covered in decals, and on the front had a large logo of Chevrolet.

Down came the window net, and out climbed a man, he was all dressed in red, like a Dale Earnhardt Jr. fan.

Quickly, to the roof he did climb, and down through the chimney he came, in pole-winning time.

Instantly I knew, it was Santa Claus himself, and as any good reporter would do, I interviewed the jolly old elf.

First I asked, "What are you doing here Santa?" He said, "I'm just getting back from California, where I delivered a second date to Fontana."

Investigating further to uncover the facts, I asked St. Nick what he had in his sacks.

	Santa knows a thing or two about driving.

"Gifts for the drivers," he said all smiles, "things that will help, over the course of 500 miles.

"With eight wins this year Ryan Newman topped the competition, but it might have been nine if he didn't unknowingly kill the ignition. So I've wrapped something for him to open on Christmas morning, a bright red light to mount on the dash to give him some warning.

"Jeff Gordon won Atlanta and completed the Martinsville sweep, but it's been a couple year's since the four-time champ was at the top of the heap. In my bag, I have just the thing. Thirty more horsepower; that should help him get his fifth ring.

"Tony Stewart, the man they call smoke, would have had a much better year, if three times his engine hadn't broke. I've filled his stocking with special pistons and springs, parts that in 2004 will help the Home Depot car sing.

"Dale Jarrett had a season filled with frustration, for him I offer a Christmas blessing, and a book to provide inspiration.

"While I brought D.J., Chicken Soup for the Ex-Champion's Soul, I have given others a bag full of coal.

"Jimmy Spencer, he's been more naughty than nice, after punching Kurt Busch, his career -- and Busch's nose -- were packed temporarily in ice.

"In Richmond there was a post-race tantrum, involving Richard Childress Racing's 29 team, atop Ricky Rudd's car they kicked and they stomped, taking things to an ugly extreme."

Santa began unpacking his bag near the fire, then with a chuckle he said, "How about that gift I gave Bobby Labonte in Miami, with Bill Elliott's flat tire."

For a guy who lives in the North Pole, Kris Kringle knows an awful lot about the sport; he dazzled me with stats, and provided analytical support.

"Jimmie Johnson," he said, "the talented young man, proved in his second season, that he is no flash in the pan. Three victories this year, and a second place overall finish, proved to the world, it will be a long time before his talents diminish.

"Restrictor Plate King was a title by which Dale Earnhardt was known, but after watching Junior win his fourth consecutive Talladega race, it is clear, the prince has inherited the throne.

"He and Michael Waltrip, they make quite a pair, if they continue their restrictor plate dominance, some might begin to believe that they too can see air."

Finally, Santa revealed his last present, a luxury item every driver wants, one hundred percent. He reached in his pocket, and handed me a four-leaf clover. That was the last thing he did, interview over.

Suddenly, the old elf did something very weird, he twitched his nose, and then disappeared.

Out in the driveway, I looked for the sleigh, there was nothing there, to my dismay.

I ran outside to take a closer look, and there it was on the asphalt, it read like a book.

He had laid down the perfect burnout, it was placed just right. It said, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Mike Massaro covers NASCAR for ESPN and ESPN.com.