T’was the Last Game Before Christmas

T’was the last game before Christmas and all through the house
The Leaf folk were sleeping, getting ready to pounce.
The game plan laid out and the ice time all fair,
In hopes that Lord Stanley soon would be there

The fans were restless, the next loss they dread
While visions of quick starts danced in their head
And Momma in her ‘kerchief and a cat in my lap
We just settled down with a beer with no cap

When the puck dropped, oh did the dream shatter
I sprang from my seat and screamed “What’s the matter?!”
Out of the game went the Leafs in a flash
No energy found to stop the hard Thrash

The Leafs just rolled over, no get up and go
Looking flustered and chasing the puck to-and-fro
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But some quality play, and goals oh so near.

But a little ol’ goalie, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment to fear Pavelec
More rapid than eagles, good chances, they came
And I cheered, and I shouted and called players by name!

“Now Grabbo!, Now C-Mac, Shoot Kessel and Beauchemin”
“Come on Monster, and Dion! Skate Orr and Gunnarsson!”
“At the top of the net, the goalie is down
Now shoot the puck, SHOOT! No, not on the ground!”

Like dead leaves before the wild hurricane fly
The Leafs get blown away while the fan base did cry
But up to the top shelf, the puck finally flew
For Mitchell this year, first goal he sighed “phew”

And then in an instant, The Leafs playing aloof
Came a counter attack, here’s the video proof
As I lowered my head, afraid of the sound
A former Leaf scored, tipping the puck while inbound

The Leafs room was silent, a tongue lashing afoot
Their chances of comeback lay in ashes and soot
A bundle of critiques delivered with tact
Wilson tried to prepare for a period of attack

His brow how it furrowed, his expression so scary
His gaze was like daggers, and our hopes he did carry
His rage did it spike as the lead sure did grow,
Now was the time for Reimer in the show

First chance of his life that the coach did bequeath
He made his first save with a sigh of relief
The team did respond as I saw on the telly
Seems goals do go in when not shot at the belly

It was face paced, exciting, one more goal top shelf
I laughed when I saw it, in spite of myself
In the blink of an eye, the team no longer dead
The Thrashers were no longer that far ahead

I spoke not a word as they showed some hard work
But they could not score, Pavelec, what a jerk.
Then to deliver the final blow
Ladd came down, an empty net with a bow

That was the end, just one more whistle
Wilson did his talk, as sharp as a thistle
But I heard him exclaim as the walked out of sight
“Oh I’m not gonna talk about that,” gone into the night

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