A Minor League Hockey Game Poem by Betty J. Stevenson

They line up behind the boards
Waiting for that whistle blow
They are like young professionals
They know thatÕs when they go.

You should see those little guys
When the hockey game begins
Determined they will be the one
To get the score to win.

The whistle blows loud and shrill
They spring into action once more
The coaches open up the gates
And out on the ice they pour.

Glistening steel blinds your eyes
Their sticks are poised and ready
For when that puck drops on the ice
TheyÕre cool and quick and steady.

They really have to practice
Every play not quite the same
And all their parents watching
Are sure glad that they came.

They take turns playing centre
Forward and defense
They keep the game exciting
And keep everyone in suspense.