Offered as a tribute to our Canadian friends, to anyone from a northern U.S. state, any country closer to the North Pole than the Equator, or anyone who sponsored a kid through years of junior hockey.
T'was Hockey Night Before Christmas
'Twas Hockey Night before Christmas, when all through the rink
Not a sound could be heard, but there still was that stink.
Some skates were hung by the rental desk with care,
In hopes they would dry out in the warm lobby air.
The players were home now, the management, the crew,
But the smell was still wafting, that nasty mildew.
Its hard to describe just how bad was the smell,
Much worse than a carcass from a rotting Gazelle.
When up on the roof there arose such a clatter,
But no one was there to see what was the matter.
Across the steel gables, many sounds could be heard,
Some footsteps, some clanking, and a few muffled words.
Towards the back of rink 2, by the Zamboni door,
More noise could be heard as things hit the floor.
An exhaust vent was used as the point of the breach,
As buckets and bottles were dropped in filled with bleach.
When appeared an old driver, so lively and quick,
With pads, beard and helmet, it must be St. Nick.
He called to his forwards, defense and goalie.
And down came his reindeer to clean up what was moldy.
"Now Cooper! Now Bauer! Now Nike and Heaton!
On, Koho, On Sherwood! On Itech and Easton!
From the floor in the showers to the top of the wall,
Now wash away! Spray away! Scrub away all"
With brushes and rags and bottles in tow,
The team was a blur with speed, don't you know.
It wasn't from joy, nor was it much fun,
They were sick from the smell and just wanted it done.
St. Nick watched with glee, as his team did the job,
Lockers were bleached, the showers were swabbed.
The bathrooms were scrubbed and toilets sanitized,
The whole job was done, and Nick was advised.
"Time to move on" Nick called to his team,
"There's big stink in the next town, and 3 rinks to clean".
With one final gesture, St. Nick left behind,
Lysol and bleach and a note that was signed…
"Worse than last year" the note did exclaim,
"You boys need to shower, please after each game".
"Your sweaty bags and pads and gloves leave behind,
That horrible odor that boggles the mind".
With that the round elf did turn towards the vent,
And touching his nose, to the rooftop he went.
He loaded the buckets, the bleach and the rags,
And tucked them all neatly inside the red bags.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team blew the whistle,
"It's late in the third boys" and took off like a missile.
We was heard to exclaim, once more for the lads,
"Happy Christmas to All….. But Please Wash the Pads"