The Night Before Christmas... Nashville Predators style

Fun stuff here, so I'm moving it to the front page. - Dirk

'Tis the season...and, as you obviously know, it's also hockey season.

I've been a Preds fan since 2000 and a season ticket holder the last three season. Both myself and my girlfriend are journalism majors at Lipscomb and Belmont respectively and we decided to put a Preds twist on the 1800s Christmas poem 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. See what we came up with, after the jump!

“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through rink

Not a creature was stirring - or so you would think

No creature ‘cept Gnash, who would always be there,

Watching over Bridgestone, Central Division, beware

Lindback was nestled all snug in his bed

While visions of gummi-bears danced in his head.

And Mr. Coach Trotzy, and Shea and his beard,

Were greeting the fans, welcoming the cheers.

When out on the ice, there arose such a clatter

The fans sprang from their seats to see what was the matter

Was it McGrattan and Parros, dropping the gloves?

Or could it be Hornqvist, in front of the net, getting shoved?

The spotlights shone on ice shiny as glass

With Pete and Terry on the mics and Tom on broadcast

When, what to my wondering eyes came through the Pred head,

But eight tiny reindeer and a miniature sled.

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

But everybody knows the reindeers’ names

So Santa whistled and he shouted and the Predators came!

“Now Smithson! Now, Legwand! Now, Fisher and Tootoo!

“On Erat! On Bouillion and Craig Smith too!”

Flying like a force to be reckoned, the boys never tired

They roared on like the faces on their jerseys, SABERTOOTH TIGERS

Then, up to Columbus they flew, with confidence and more

For Pekka was in net, no one would score

And then I heard a thundering crash

For swinging from the rafters was the one and only Gnash!

As I rose from my seat, I’d never heard such a sound

The blasting of goal horns from all around

He was dressed all in gold, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of sticks, he had flung on his back,

Tonight he was ready for battle, set to attack

His eyes-how they twinkled! his fang teeth, how scary!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a blueberry!

His claws were so intimidating, ready to deliver a blow

And the fangs in his mouth were as white as the snow.

The handle of a mallet he held tight in his paws,

And the drum he beat, rang in David Poile, just ‘cause!

Who had a broad face and a good education

That helped him sign Pekka, thrilling the Pred Nation!

Pekka was long and slender,

And low and behold, a tremendous goal tender

A blink of an eye, a kick save and a beauty,

Then a save with the stick and the glove, he is never off duty.

Santa spoke not a word, but watched the Preds do their work

And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And forming his fingers into two fangs,

He skated off the ice as the final buzzer rang!

Coach Trotz left the bench when he gave his team a whistle,

And away they all skated at the speed of a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, “We’ll fill your Christmases with glee

With a Predators win and a cup named Stanley!!”