Twas Hockey night in PG
When all throught the city,
not a creature was stirring, not even a coog.
The Banners were hung, in the rafters with care,
In hope that Prince George, would win once again.
The Cougars were nesseled and snug in their beds,
WIth visions of Weber, daunting their head.
Coach in his jacket, and GM in his suit,
had just setteled down to try and defeat the rocks.
When out on the ice, there arose such a clatter
Coach sprung from his chair to see whats the matter.
Away to Ice Level, the coach he did go, just to see,
That the Rockets were there.
The moon like lite Ice
was blinding indeed,
When what to Coach;s wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniture player, taping up his swollen fists.
With a grin on his face, so malicious and hungry,
Coach knew in a moment, "that must be Mosie"
More rapid than eagles, his blood coursed through his veins,
he sweated and feared every one of them here.
Now Weber! Now Mosie! Now Keller and Comeau! On Spurgeon and Bodie and Palin and Cumiskey!
To the GM's Office Coach went he had some bad news,
"Their stronger and angrier we have not a chance!"
And then in an instant, they heard from the Ice
The skating and shooting of each rocket player.
And he heard a great shout which startled him quite
"THE COUGARS WILL LOSE, AND HAVE A BAD NIGHT!"