The air is cold, the ice is hard;
my skates are sharp as swords.
My mom and dad are side by side
and right behind the boards.
“Get the puck!” my father yells.
The puck skids past my stick —
then Eddie Cooper steals the puck
which makes me feel quite sick.
He now goes hurtling down the ice,
the puck in his control.
The air feels even colder
as I watch him score a goal.
His goal becomes the winning goal;
they win it four to three,
and deep inside, I tell myself,
they won because of me.
Someday, it just won’t matter.
Someday, I won’t mind blame.
Someday, in fact, I’ll laugh at this
when I’m a Calgary Flame.