Twas the night before Christmas, when at the Bell Centre
Not a soul was stirring, not even a trainer.
Hockey socks were hung by the lockers with care,
In hopes that the stink would soon all be aired.
The players were resting while clearing their heads,
While visions of wins made them wet their beds.
With visions of Julien, whipping off his strap,
While told by Muller, that he can’t do that.
When out in the media there arose such a clatter,
All sprang to the web to see what was the matter.
Coming from the Gazette, it flew like a flash,
Another showbizzz story to throw in the trash.
The Habs had support, little did they know
A fan yelled Tataaaar, with the rest to follow.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a guy named Domi, all dressed up in Habs’ gear.
With a big ol’ captain, so huge he shook the ground and,
We knew in a moment it must be Man Mountain.
Stronger than most, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now KK! now, Shawzer! now, Nemo and Jo!
On, Petey! On, Pricy! on, Gally and Domi!
To the top of the division! To the top of the standings!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away Dad’s siblings!”
Supported by Molson his fashion on the fly,
Bergevin’s job is safe, even if fans cry.
They’ve turned things around by winning a few,
With a Zamboni full of joy, and Claude Julien too.
And then, in a twinkling, there will be a trade,
While not unanimous, it will be an upgrade.
Just forget the rumours, forget the hearsay,
They’re toying with you, like a cat with its prey.
Whether it’s Muzzin, Martinez or Bouwmeester,
It should cost more than what’s in the dumpster.
When the dust settles, all fans will be back,
On the bandwagon they’ll go just like a wolfpack.
Price will spring to his net, to his team give a whistle,
And away they will fly like the down of a thistle.
And the coaches will exclaim, on their way to the Cup,
“Happy Hockey to all, and to all a good fight!”