Poetry on Ice

It was unseemly hockey that the Flyers first did play,

The score was like a sore for Philly fans, we looked away,

‘Cause the screen was filled with Penguins sending pucks Bryzgalov’s way

And when three of them got by him, ‘twas disaster on ‘three-play.’

Our intrepid leader Peter didn’t flinch or start to sweat,

Though his brow was slightly furrowed he was not about to fret,

Even though his team was filled with kids who’d just left Kinder-care

Good old Lavey knew the Flyers weren’t backing down, or scared.

Going into second period, it still looked fairly rough,

When you’re down three goals to nothing, winning Stanley looks quite tough,

But with someone like the great Briere on ice and on your side

You just know that Marc-Andre Fleury will be kept occupied,

And so he was, as Danny made two goals and closed the gap,

And the Penguin fans were rather shocked, awaking from their nap,

For, you see, they’d all assumed the valiant Flyers wouldn’t rise

Raging back from such a deficit, but weren’t they surprised

As young Braydon Schenn, that fledgling tike, beat Fleury for the tie,

And black silence came to Consol Center, silence as they prayed,

All those Pittsburgh fans who hours before had bellowed and had brayed,

Their exalted players, Crosby, Malkin, and their favored stats,

Just could not protect them from the beast that Philly’s best begat,

Now in overtime, the game was new, no three goal lead had they,

Still the Penguins tried to salvage victory, keep the beast at bay,

But here came brave Jakub Voracek who, just two minutes in,

Pulverized the Penguins hopes of celebrating that first win.

And so now we move to number two, the second in a row

And we know at least, for Philly’s child

Wednesday did not bring woe.

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