'Twas the night before Free Agency, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even Bob Rouse;
The jerseys were hung by the locker stalls with care,
In hopes that St. Nicklas soon would be there;
The Euro-twins were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of dangles and cross and drops danced in their heads;
And Holland in his 'kerchief, and Babs in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long summer's chat,
When out on the phone there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to Madison Wisconsin Babs flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The sun on the breast of the freshly ploughed farms
It was now Babcocks time to turn on his charms,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a #1 dman, and Poile shaking with fear,
With little old Illitch, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment this deal would stick.
After Illitch had inked Suter and met his family they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Parise! now, Prust! now, Doan and Salvador!
On, Datsyuk! on Zetterberg! on, Kronwall and Franzen!
To the top of the league! It starts this fall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
Happy Free Agency Folks ...
