First, I want to say from all of us at Winging It In Motown, have a safe and Merry Christmas! This will be the last post until probably the game thread on Saturday. But enjoy the hardly on-topic or relevant but surely Red Wings related story!
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through The Joe
Not a Red Wing was scoring, not even Datsyuk.
The banners were hung by the rafters with care,
In hopes that another soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Red Wings danced in their heads.
And mamma in her jersey, and I in my cap,
Had just settled in for a long winter's crap-fest.
When up in the press box there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Away to the internet I flew like Helm,
To look at the lineups and scream bloody hell.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a miniature hospital, and eight injured Wings.
With a snarling, staring driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Mike!
More quickly than eagles his star players they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Filppula! Now, Kronner! Now, Cleary and Henrik!
On, Franzen! On, Ericsson! On Lilja and Williams!
To the top of the division! To the top of the conference!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Continue the story after the jump...And then, in a week or a few, I heard on the news
The practicing and skating of each injured dude.
As I drew in my head, the team was turning it around,
Down to the press conference St Mike came with a bound.
His eyes-how they blazed! his scowl how scary!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was clenched up like a bow,
And the scrunch of his jaw was quite scary you know.
A mess of a clipboard he held tight in his hand,
And the PK improvements met his demand.
He had dealt with the injuries oh so many,
But the Red Wings were still sitting pretty.
He was smart and patient, a right genius old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the lineups, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the standings they rose!
He sprang to the bench, to his team gave some hope,
And the stars returned from injury over the months.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"