''Twas the Night Before Playoffs

 'Twas the night before Playoffs, and all through the Joe

 Not a player was skating, not even Devereaux;

 The jerseys were hung from the rafters with care,

 Yes; Abel, Howe, Lindsay, Delvecchio were there.

 The fans in Detroit were all snug in their beds,

 While Stanley Cup fever danced 'round in their heads;

 Kirk Maltby, Kris Draper, Dom Hasek, you see,

 Would star in their dreams of what would soon be.

 Next day on the ice there would be such a clatter,

 That, for true fans of hockey, nothing else even matters.

 Away to the arena, we fly like a flash,

 (Unless we can't get tickets, 'cause we don't have the cash).

 The laser light show on the freshly groomed ice

 Would light up the way as we welcome our guys!

 Then, what to our wondering eyes should appear,

 But the best of the NHL, at least so far this year.

 With a captain named Yzerman, and a winger named Hull,

 We knew in a moment this would not be dull.

 More rapid than eagles, the players they came,

 And we whistled and shouted, as they called them by name;

 "Now, Lidstrom! Now Chelios! Now, go, Larionov!

 On Datsyuk! On Robitaille! And, now, Sergei Fedorov!

 To the top of the Conference! To the top of the League!  There's no turning back! There will be no fatigue!

 As the Canucks and the Blues and the Avalanche cry,

 When they meet with the Wings, and their Stanley dreams die,  As New Jersey crumbles, and Montreal meets with fate,  The Leafs and the Hurricanes will just have to wait.

 For now, in a twinkling, there comes to the party

 Kuznetsov, Sean Avery, and Darren McCarty.

 There's Dandenault, Duchesne, and Fischer, and Shanny!

 There's Wallin, Olausson, and a goalie named Manny!

 Then, dressed up so nicely, in the best they could find,

 The coaches line up, with the trainers behind.

 There's Lewis and Smith, and, of course, Scotty Bowman.

 You'll notice John Wharton (if you are a woman)..

 Our eyes, how they twinkle! Our hearts are so merry!

 With Redmond to comment, or maybe Don Cherry.

  We know Tomas Holmstrom will be taking no poop,

 With luck he'll get backup, maybe from Uwe Krupp.

 If we need them, Williams, Brule, or Elliott we'll finger.

 Or Wikstrom, or Slegr, or Kohn, or Dwayne Zinger.

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

 Scotty soon had assured us we had nothing to dread.

 He spoke not a word, these guys know how to work.

 We won't need to deal with Claude Lemieux (what a jerk!).

 I'm sorry I said that, I know it's not nice.

 But I just couldn't help it, I won't do it twice.

 They spring to the ice, as the referees whistle,

 In pursuit of the cup they will fly like a missile.

 And the fans will exclaim, whether they lose or win,

 "Go, Red Wings! We Love You! What a great year it's been!"