Well, Santa is dead.
Either that, or he decided everything's been going so well for the people of Detroit lately that he needed to even things out. One thing's for sure, he's a motherfucker.
Dats is hurt for a month, the Wings are barely trotting along at a .500 pace this month, and our dominance over the conference is starting to slip a bit. Knowing this team, it's clearly just a hiccup - but that doesn't mean that hiccups aren't fucking annoying. In fact, if you've ever had hiccups, you know that they piss you and everyone around you off and you normally want them over as fast as fucking possible. I guess what I'm saying is:
- Fuck the hiccups.
A Winged Wheel Very Fucky Christmas*
'Twas two nights before Christmas, when all through the rink
The whole Red Wings roster decided to stink.
Outhustled, outworked, outscored, and outshot,
Defensive lapses, open men in the slot.
During preceding weeks, this became quite a trend,
Making Hockeytown cry, "Oh when will this end?!"
You see, us Wings fans are a real spoiled troop,
Winning is something we're rather used to.
Losing, really, is just not our style
Leave that to the Oil, the Hawks, or the Isle
But lately our heros have looked rather bland
Going only .500 over a ten game span.
Not to mention how tough it has been
To finally snag Ozzie's 400th win.
But that night was supposed to be a real changer;
The Blues aren't a team that causes much danger.
Over the years, without any glitches,
The Wings have been able to make them their bitches.
But, apparently the guys had other shit on their mind;
Getting a win was just not worth their time.
Rafalski had basically been cashed out for a while
The last couple games he had played like a pile. (You know... of shit.)
Presumably he had other ideas in his brain;
Wrapped gifts, Christmas dinner, New Year's champagne.
Perhaps the same happened with his colleague, big Bert,
Who was dreaming of puppies and kittens to hurt.
And Homer didn't seem to play quite like himself
For sure, he must have been think of an elf.
That speedy young Helm, he just couldn't finish
Neither could Fil, who's first language is Finnish.
(Don't give me shit for rhyming the same word.
I'll do what I want, I have the last word.)
And don't get me started on the one they call Happy,
It would be a compliment to say he's been crappy.
That dumb little fucker has made us all sick.
I think we agree, we must zap his dick.
And Osgood lost out at 400, a feat,
By being way too fucking easy to beat.
It sure would be nice for him to not suck,
So he could stop making me look stupid as fuck.
And sure there were bright spots, some plusses and scores;
But in the end the stupid Bitch Blues just had more.
So now, after Christmas, it's time for a change
I'm ready to get back to our winning ways.
Coach Babcock must stare (warning: can cause death),
Team leaders must rally until out of breath.
Now Helmer, now Abby, now Kronner and Raffi,
On Lidstrom, on Mule, on ValFil and Z!
It's time to return to our early-year form,
Where scoring and winning was simply the norm.
Where teams would just quiver in fear of our might,
And we'd have the win at the end of the night.
Consider this notice, rest of the league;
Nothing will stop us, injuries nor fatigue.
We're gunning for whats ours, we're not letting up;
We're going to be raising our twelfth Stanley Cup.
So from Hockeytown, U.S.A., a Christmas message to you:
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all, fuck you too!"
*A quick disclaimer, I started writing this after the Wings had let up their fourth goal and clearly looked like they were very much ready to go the hell home for the holidays. I realize that the overall effort was much better than I've portrayed here and our team really turned it on to end the game - but considering that effort was coming while I was being so overly critical, I decided not to stop.
Merry Christmas, Hockeytown. Here's hoping Santa's being overly harsh to us now because we're getting our present in June.