As I sit here with a bird?s eye view,
I?m blinded by the reflection of the light coming off the ice.
You file onto the ice one by one,
Lead by the great padded body you call a goalie.
He is what you call your last line of defense,
So one would be lead to believe.
I sit here and watch with a knowing smile,
That you truly need to be a little crazy
To play with 30 pounds extra equipment.
But I think it?s the most rewarding,
Yet, at the same time thankless,
Of all the jobs on those two tiny blades.
What you relish the most
Is the moment there is a stoppage in play,
Where you can shuffle to the bench
Grab a swig of water or something else.
As you spit you notice a flash from one section over,
You look to see that it came from right behind the visitors? bench
In addition, there are at least two familiar faces
Then you realise what your buddy
?Batesy? has been staring at for practically the whole period.
While you know the owner of
The camera that you just spat yourself into immortality is pretty,
Yet off limits;
Due to the fact, your best friend Ryan has a crush on her,
You see the girl she?s sitting beside her
Wishing you could see more red in her hair.
You see you were never fond of those girls of blonde.
You look closer to see that
In fact, she is a red head
And those eyebrows are worth dying for
Your mind starts to wander . . .
And then suddenly you have to guard the sacred iron and twine,
Now it?s not a task to be taken lightly . . .
Now you have to prove to this girl you are a spectacular athlete . . .
?Hey chic you ready to go to The Gardens yet??
?Yes, Dee I am,
But you know these guys never notice
Anything outside the game they?re playing?

So much for that theory.