Three days? Four days? How much longer
Until Predator hockey returns.
This is a Predators team much stronger
With a hunger to attain the cup, it burns.

It started with Detroit, an Original Six.
They were a favorite to win it all,
To oust the Nashville hicks.
Stanley Cup? No. How about golf balls?

A season ended, another moves on.
Oh, how sweet the victory,
But it does not stop. We must carry on.
Time to write more history.

It begins in the desert, a fight
For the right to advance.
Their jerseys, red, their fans draped in white.
It's going to be a party, but remember, no pants ;)

They have a great goalie, a good team
But they face a mighty task.
He who decides to shoot glove side on Him,
Their humility, they must mask.

"The Finnish Destroyer of Dreams," He has been called.
"The Black Hole," is what He equips on his left arm.
Drafted 258th, He has crawled
To stardom, with a lovable charm.

"El Capitan!" I shout in joy/fear.
If His slapshot doesn't intimidate you,
Then you know not true fear. The Webeard.
A beard so powerful, that you forget, attached is a man, too.

He sports a healthly blend of skill and force,
And people know why he wears the C.
If you play dirty with him, you will remorse,
The beast, you will set free.

They will crush your spirits, desert dogs.
You know what is to come.
These two Beings, were created by hockey gods.
But please join us in our quest to become...

Champions.