Twas the night before Christmas,

When all around the rink

Not a creature was stirring, - -except for the stink;

The locker rooms were empty and locked up all tight,

And as it should be, all was closed for the night.

The players were home airing out all their gear,

Their moms holding their noses, staph bacteria their fear;

And me in my pjs, and my cat in my lap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When out of the phone there arose such a clatter,

I jumped from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to the ice rink I drove in a flash,

Tore open the door trying not to be rash.

The lights of the rink gave off a soft glow

Giving shape to the shadowy objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a roaring zamboni and guys in hockey gear,

With a spirited young driver, so lively and trim,

I knew in a moment it must be Coach Brehm.

More rapid than bobcats his skaters they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called players by name;

“Go, MARTIN! Hit, YUNKER! Score, ROBI and KERR!

Check, MARINO and MARCONI! Weave, REESE and KRYGIER!

Skate, YUNKER! Shoot, BURKE! PASS STAGG and MCKEE!

Block, ALLEN! Deke, DILTZ, HOLLOWAY, GONZALES and RAMSEY!

To the top of the circles! To the boards with you all! Now backwards! Now forwards! And try not to fall!”

Though rivals before seemed to win all the time,

Now their chances against us, aren't worth a dime,

So to the top of the ranks the Bobcats they flew,

With two other great coaches, and Dorothy too.

And then, all of a sudden, I smelled from the bench

The nauseous and putrid, true hockey stench.

As I drew in my breath, and was turning around,

Over the boards the whole team came with a bound.

They were dressed all for hockey, from helmets to skates,

All maroon, gray and white, my dashing teammates;

A bundle of pucks Coach, at us, he flung,

And we shot with such force (others better than some).

Coach was dressed in a suit! That black one you know!

And his clothes were all covered, with ice shavings like snow!

There were more pucks in his over-the-shoulder sack,

And it looked like the weight just might break his back;

 The team was tired and sweaty, the way Coach saw it best,

And I laughed when I saw them, each ready for rest;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon let the guys know they had nothing to dread;

He gave his directions, then finished his work,

Watched the guys do some pushups; then turned with a jerk,

And laying the pucks back inside their black case,

And giving a nod, off the ice the players did race;

Coach mounted the zam, and to his team gave a wail,

And away they all went, leaving a smelly trail.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

“HAPPY SKATING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD FIGHT!”