'Twas the Night Before the Lockout
From reader Amy T.
Twas the Night Before Christmas - NHL Lockout Style
‘Twas three weeks before Christmas, and all through the league
What once showed promise, now showed fatigue
Players’ stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In the hopes that St. Don would bring paychecks to spare
The owners were nestled all snug in their beds
As their billions earned interest and the players’ funds bled
And Fehr with his ego and Bettman with his cap
Both prepped their sides for a long season’s nap
When out on the Twitter arose such a chatter
Maybe to someone, this season does matter!
Away to the table, they flew like a flash!
Owners and players would divide up the cash!
The money now added to the new-proposed deal
Gave the luster of hope, this shit almost seemed real
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a call for a presser by one Donald Fehr!
With a little optimism, so lively and quick
The fans knew in a moment, the deal would soon click
More rapid than tweets, the updates they came
A few more key issues! And he called them by name!
“Now contracts! Transition! This could end in a day!”
“Progress is here! My guys just want to play!”
“We’ve agreed on dollars! This is practically it!”
“A new CBA with a five zero split!”
As The Cup on the first day that it’s set to fly
When the fans heard the news, spirits rose to the sky
So on to the forums, the fans flocked. Yes, they flew.
To revel in the joy of a season past due
And then, like a flurry, came reports on the web
Predicting, punishing. More to be said.
As over and over we all hit refresh
The truth. Misdirection. A show for the press.
Words dressed all in spin, from beginning to end
A Grimm fairytale, a game of pretend
A hint of belief, Fehr had flung to the crowd
While knowing full well, it would not be allowed
Gary’s eyes, did they flash! His response slightly scary!
He reacts with emotion? Oh goodness! How dare he!
He drew himself up to his full lacking height
The commish seemed to care on this cold, winter night
Gripping podium tight like the reins of a sleigh
He hastened to address the famed “magic day”
“There was a clear date when we wanted this over”
“It comes after ten and starts with October.”
He felt cheated, was livid – like a broke, ripped off whore
But I cheered when he spoke, in spite of unsettled scores
There was a wringing of hands, a shake of his head
The only whistle we heard were talks whistled dead
He tried to speak clearly, went straight to the gist
Owner limits not present? More games will be missed.
A punch in a hockey brawl where blows don’t suffice
In a holiday season less sugar than spice
One thing is for certain, when the game does return
Most love it too much to find lessons to learn
But they’ll give us something for paying the price
Another heartfelt ‘thank you’ painted on the ice
