A little round black rubber thing
Goes skimming down the ice,
Ten grown men are chasing it
With sticks and starry eyes.
Then a player at the blue line
Takes a pass his teammate gave,
But it stops right at the goal crease
As Hextall makes a save.
Now Tocchet takes a hard check
As behind the net he dives,
Then streaks toward the other end
Like a kid who’s won first prize.
A scramble now at center ice
The puck is loose and free –
The “Flyers” score the first one!
And no one cheers like me!
(For the Philadelphia Flyers, NHL; 1989)
© Fay Herridge