Twas the Night Before Christmas in Habsland


It is important, at this time of the year, to take some time to look ourselves in the mirror and realise what’s most important. Friends, family, loved ones, memories… some are still with us, others have passed. But all of them should occupy a special place in our hearts. Think not only of those around you, but beware that there are some who are less fortunate than us. Smile at them, offer them some much needed company, make this season special for them as well. After all, it’s Christmas time. 

Having said that, don’t take life too seriously, as you won’t come out of it alive. Take time to laugh. On that note, let’s look at what the Montreal Canadiens’ night before Christmas might very well look like!



Twas the night before Christmas, when at the Bell Centre
Not a soul was stirring, not even a trainer.
The jerseys 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 Weber, holding the roadmap,
Helped by Radulov, they’re able to adapt.

When out in the media there arose such a clatter,
All sprang to the wed to see what was the matter.
Coming from out west it flew like a flash,
Another damned rumour to throw in the trash.

The Avs trade Duchene, little did they know
It is ‘a done deal’, some claimed in their glow.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But people offering Chucky, they are drunk on beer.

With a little ol’ coach, so hated although Canadien,
We knew in a moment it must be Therrien.
In a broken English he had planned his game,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Pleky! now, Marky! now, Pacioretty and DD!
On, Petry! On, Pricy! on, on Gally and Chucky!
To the top of the division! To the top of the standings!
Now have a vision! Work Da System to improve our rankings!”

Supported by Bergevin his fashion on the fly,
Therrien’s job is safe, even if fans cry.
They’ll turn things around by winning a few,
With Zamboni full of joy, and Therrien 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 Spezza, Nugent-Hopkins or Hanzal,
It’s bound to cost more than garbage and all.
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 Therrien will exclaim, on their way to the Cup,
“Happy Hockey to all, and to all a good fight!”


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