*The following is an adaption of Clement Clarke Moore’s “Twas the Night Before Christmas”. I do not claim this as my own.

Twas the night before hockey and all though the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse

The sticks leaned against the wall with care

With hopes that Claude Giroux soon would be there

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of dangles and saves danced in their heads.

And mamma in her jersey, and I in my hat,

Couldn’t wait until hockey would finally comeback.

When out on the rink there rose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like Jake,

Tore down the stairs and laced up my skates.

The moon on the breast of the new sheet of ice

Gave the lustre of past memories only playing would suffice

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But Ed Snider, Paul Holmgren and there was no reason to fear.

A man in dark hair, so lively and savvy,

I knew in a moment it must be Lavy .

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now G! now, Hartsy! now, Danny and Simmer!

On, Mesz! On, Max! On, Jake and Schenner!

To the top of the circles! Let me clear!

We gotta play every game with some JAM in here!”