A little under two years ago, the ghost of Edgar Allen Poe visited me, and demanded that I write a poem in honor of the Chicago Blackhawks, who had just won the Stanley Cup against the Boston Bruins. I was happy to oblige. The Blackhawks have not yet won the Cup this year, but they have earned the right to play for it with a stirring seventh game victory over the Anaheim Mighty Ducks. In honor of my beloved hockey team, and in advance of the series they are going to play against the Tampa Bay
Lightweights Lightning for the right to possess the Stanley Cup, here is another poem for your consideration and enjoyment:
O Captain! My Captain! our series with Anaheim is done;
Your Blackhawks have at last prevailed, the battle you have won;
A victory dear, you achieved without fear, Chicago is triumphant,
No matter what the Mallards sought, the Blackhawks remained defiant:
O eyes, feast on what Anaheim hates!
No Whitmanesque laments of dread,
On the ice, Captain Toews skates,
Alive and victorious instead.
O Brandon! My Brandon! for you, cheers echo too;
We know well what you accomplished, you did what we knew you’d do;
For you the Second City exults, it now is second no more;
For you have made us proud and happy, since on the Mallards you did score;
Here Brandon! great player!
Chicago calls you a hockey god;
Of opponents, you are a slayer,
They shall all Kneel before Saad.
His opponents quake before him, the Earth itself he shook;
A goal against the Mallards was scored by Brent Seabrook;
The Blackhawks routed Anaheim, and did so like a boss;
Thanks also to a goal scored by Marian the Hoss;
And now, the new enemy, Tampa Bay!
Will also be seen to lack,
Qualities that helped Chicago put away,
The Mallards, those loathsome quacks.