Twas the Night Before Hockey

moshmont

Twas the night before hockey, when all through the ice
Not a creature was stirring, but Horton’s still nice.
Timmy’s pads were hung in his locker with care,
With the knowledge that Flyers would soon be there.

All the pink hats were nestled snuggly in bed,
While visions of Seguin danced in their heads.
And Moshmont without a shirt, and I in my cap,
Had just bought Amstel Lights, if you can believe that.

When out on the ice there arose such a clatter,
Big Z sprang up to see what was the matter.
Away from the locker room I flew like a flash,
Hockey stick in hand I threw on my sash.

The Garden XD on the surface of the new-painted ice
Gave way to these tickets, a ridiculous price!
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature man, and a huge yellow banner.

With a tight B’s sweatshirt, sporting a grimmace,
I knew in a moment it must be Bill Simmons.
More pink than a crayon the man has no shame,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Andrew! now, Tommy! now, Patrick and Chad!
On, Mikey! On, Nathan! on, on Brad the Lad!
To the top of the Garden! to the top of the wall!
Now raise away! raise away! Raise away all!”

They all walked out of the tunnel with smiles so bright,
They thought of Vancouver and it’s wonderful plight.
They beat down a goalie too big for his britches,
And two ginger twins who played like little bitches.

Everything started against Montreal,
Who dodged and who dove and who mastered the fall.
With PK on his back and Carey a mess,
Horty scored in OT and it felt the best.

And then there was Philly,
Who were riddled with ghosts.
Of winning four straight,
Which hurt Boston the most.

So the Bruins fought hard and broke out their brooms,
And ZIP! POW! BAM! Swept ‘em straight to the moon.
And they went back to Philly all broken and bleak,
Looking like losers sucking down cheese steaks.

The last of the East were the those named the Lightning,
With that guy named Steven, who was oh so frightening.
But he disappeared when it mattered the most,
So Boston won in 7 and the city could boast!

‘Bring on Lord Stanley!’ we cried in cheer,
Happily drinking whiskey and cases of beer!
Bring on Vancouver for they we don’t dread,
Bring on Ryan Kesler and bring us his head!

After 2 games, the Bruins were down
But the city didn’t falter and the team didn’t frown.
Game3 was a blowout that we could admire,
While the losing team’s goalie was worried about his tire!

And after Game 7, the Cup was raised,
The Bruins had won, The Bruins were praised!
So they jumped in their duck boats and drove out of sight,
“Hockey starts tomorrow, so to all a good-night!”

A huge shoutout to Sarah, aka The Real 19, for giving me the idea to write this.

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