'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the rink,
Not a skate was moving, not was a stick out of place.
The uni's were all hung in the lockers with care,
In hopes that the playoffs soon would be there,
The fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of a Cup run danced in their heads.
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out back on the pond there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Barry Trotz in a bus, with players in tow.
He was a no necked guy, so sullen and calm,
I knew in a moment it must be the Preds.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name,
"Now, Sully! now, Arnie! now, Leggy and Marty!
On, Wardo! on Horny! on, Webby and Pekks!
Go Toots and Sutes! and go Goc and Smitty!
Come on Ellie, and Frankie! on Cody and Hammer!
Get moving Wade and JP! Jonsey and Kleiner!"
And finally we saw Scatch, Sultz, and Nick.
On the ends of the pond, the nets magically appeared!
Then with a wave of a arm the guys split into squads.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
The players they skated with style and with grace,
In circles Marty skated as they got ready to play,
And then, in a twinkling, I heard Trotzy exclaim,
"Let’s go guys, the puck drop is now,”
So Arnie and Leggy squared off on the pond,
The puck went aflutter and was passed to a man with a smile,
It had to be Webby, I could tell by his style,
But his clothes were all wrong with Kelowna on front,
A "2" on the back was even stranger still.
Down the ice he went, and suddenly he stopped,
Everyone quivered as they feared his first shot,
And he looked like a marksman as he lined up his aim.
At the end of the ice Pekks stood with no fear,
Wearing a sweater with something Finnish on it's rear,
His mouth was all set with a funny little smile,
And the stash on his lip was way out of style.
With his glove on one side and his stick on the other,
He skated forward toward doom to cut down the angle.
The stage was all set for the shot of the night,
Then Webby drew back as he prepared to let loose,
Everyone else skated to get out of the slot,
To avoid the what they knew was a dangerous lot.
Pekks dug in tight awaiting the bomb,
Then finally release came as Webbs let loose of the shot,
And the puck went like a rocket as everyone watched.
Not a word was spoken as Pekks went straight to his work,
And threw up his arm and turned with a jerk,
And placing his glove in front of his nose,
He grabbed the puck in mid air,
And Pekks never feared as if he didn’t care.
And everyone cheered as Pekka reigned in the match,
As Webby skated to the net knowing that he given his best,
To get a shot by goalie from Finland, the mighty Rinne.
As Webby met Pekka they exchanged a high five,
And as if by some magic with the touch of their gloves,
They all disappeared at once as if no one had been there.
In the quiet night air in the distance I heard Trotzy exclaim,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Buddy Oakes for PredsOnTheGlass