benn-bros-and-hockey-hoes:

T’was the night before hockey, and all through the land

Not a skater was stirring (for fear they’d get banned).

The sticks were all taped and the goalie pads shortened

And Byfuglien was finally gone from Tim Horton’s.

The players and coaches lay snug in their beds

While visions of trophies danced ‘round in their heads –

Of Vezinas and Harts, of Conn Smythes and Rockets

(though others just hoped for big checks in their pockets).

And the fans lay asleep, oh the dreams that they dreamed!

Of cup-winning squads, and Bettman getting creamed!

The refs all praying, as they tossed through the night,

That just one single game, they might get it all right.

And I had lay down, to catch a few z’s,

When I heard a loud crash, and felt a chill freeze.

I leaped up from the mattress, and rushed down to the stairs,

Little expecting what I’d find to be there;

An impossible scene – why, I had to look thrice –

My living room’d changed into one made of ice!

An immense scene of sport, I knew not what to think

Of a commonplace room turned to huge hockey rink.

And more than just that (and so much much more)

The freshly done ice was hosting a war!

Two sets of men fought for that greatest reward

Stanley in their eyes as they leapt ‘cross the boards

I saw Sidney Crosby battling Claude Giroux

And the Great Gretsky deking one Mario Lemieux.

Brodeur (in young form) diving cross the crease

And Datsyuk’s stick magic ne’er ceasing to cease.

Karlsson streaked in from backline to score

But was rebuffed by the stick of Bob Orr.

I saw Coffey and Gordie and LaFleur and Yzer,

Among hosts of others, some younger, some wiser.

The greatest of greats, from future and past,

Oh would that I’d known that the scene would not last,

For then my eyes opened, and I saw the sun beam,

And I realized that game had been but a dream.

I near shed a tear in sake of regret.

What a game it had been, a sensation, and yet

I thought “What is there to be seen this new season?

Could there not be still better?” I reasoned.

And I say to you all, on this eve of goal lights:

Sleep well and dream, on this last of dark nights.

Prepare for great saves, chanting keep’s name.

Prepare for great shots, near alight with flame.

Prepare for great moves, that make d-men cry

Prepare for great passes, placed through needle’s eye

Prepare for great hits, a great sound like a crack

Prepare for it all, because hockey is back!