The Tartan

‘Twas the night before Hawkey

By Emily Voll, Sports Editor

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Twas the night before hockey, when all through the house,

the fans were all stirring, even Stanley, the pet Mouse.

The sweaters were hung in our closets with care,

knowing the Blackhawks soon would be there.

The Hawks fans were nestled all snug in their beds,

while visions of Kaner and Toews danced in their heads.

And mama in her Hawks hoodie and I in my Champ cap,

had just settled our brains after a long summer’s nap.

When the game began there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my couch to join Jim sing our banner.

Away to the flag I flew like The Flash,

tore off my hat and stood in a dash.

The lights reflecting on the new frozen snow,

gave the luster to our fresh painted logo.

When, what should my wondering eyes should appear,

but a mustachioed man, and his top eight in shining new gear.

With a brand new whistle, so loud and so clear,

I knew in that moment, at long last the Hawks are here!

More rapid than Red Wings, skating by they came,

Q whistled and shouted and called them by name:

“Now Tazer! Now Kaner! Now, Panik and Sharp!

On, Crawford! On, Seabrook!

On, Saader and Duncs!

To the top of the goalcrease!

To the top of the scoreboard that’s up on the wall!

Now score away! Score away! Score away all!

As the Mighty Ducks before, the famous V they fly,

when they scored their first goal, their fans jumped to the sky,

so up to the goal line, on shiny skates they flew,

with fans full of joy, and Coach Quenneville too!

And then, in a twinkling, Chelsea Dagger rang loud,

the hawks fans all chanting, they continued to shout.

As I danced and I cheered, leaping and turning around,

Down the Hawks came, two on one, another score inbound.

He was dressed in all red, from his helmut to his foot,

and his skates were all polished and tied to stay put.

A bundle of sticks he had flung on his back,

he looked like a bat-boy restocking his pack.

His skates-how they twinkled! His spirit-how merry!

His sweater red like roses, his socks like a cherry!

His stick was drawn up like a bow,

The moustache on Q’s lip was as white as the snow!

The stump of his pen he held tight in his teeth,

He has chewed the remainder in the shape of a wreath!

Bowman looked on, a smile on his face,

he gave a laugh from his belly,

his boys were great! Playoff tickets will need selling!

They spoke not a word, but together they work,

players filled the goalmouth, the Goalie tried to save it with a jerk.

And, smashing the little black puck down the aisle,

we scored again! The Goalie made no denial!

We sprang to our feet, the refs blew the final whistle,

the Hawks win! It stung the losing team like a thistle!

But, I heared Foley and Eddie exclaim as the Hawks skated from sight,

Happy Hawkey Season to all! And to all a goodnight!

 

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