‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through C-bus
Not a creature was stirring, to hear the coach cuss
The roster was stocked by the GM with care
In hopes that some victories soon would be there
The 5th Line was nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Stanley Cups danced in their heads
With mamma in her scarf and I in my kepi
Had settled down to scan the long winter schedule
When out on the ice there arose such a clatter
I sprang to my laptop to see what was the matter
Away to the screen I flew with great speed
Clicked open the browser and pulled up the tweets
The gleam of the water on zamboni’d ice
Gave lustre to the cannon, it looked very nice
When what to my wondering eyes should it seem
But a miniature coach and his full hockey team
With a New England accent, so vulgar and coarse
I knew in a moment it must be Coach Torts
More rapid than eagles his skaters they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Korpi, now Nuti, now Bob, Z, and Jonsey!