It’s that time. We told you the VIP Ticket contest ends on October 20. Guess what day it is. Did you get your poems written? Do they rule? Did I laugh, or cry, or did my eyes roll so far back into my head that I may never see forward again?
Below I have amassed all the submissions. Yes, I even dug through that old Devils’ post game article where several of you thought it would be cute to write poems about your hatred for Terry Murray. If you didn’t actually mean these to be submitted, say so. If you skim through and don’t see your entry, say so.
THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO ENTER. You have until midnight, when you will all turn to pumpkins. Hideous… filthy… gross, pumpkins.
The winner will be announced first thing tomorrow.
Let’s see what you came up with…
Michael Berkowitz started us off:
Dear L.A. Kings, I’ve been a fan, for nearly my whole life,
I’ve celebrated the good years, few, and cried through the years of strife.
I was there for Flett and Joyal, Eddie Shack, and “Frenchy” Lemieaux.
I cheered for the Triple Crown Line: Marcel, Taylor, and Simmer too!
In the stands for Manchester’s “Miracle,” and for “The Great One” in Silver & Black.
At Staples for “The Stunner” and all those years that real talent we lacked.
You came close against The Canadians, and who knows you might’ve won,
Had Marty’s stick been legal, or if he had just grabbed a different one.
Every October I get so excited, with my expectations way up so high.
But in April I hang up my Jersey, and wait for the summer to slowly go by.
Then in ’03, without really thinking, I moved North with my family in hand,
And found that I was now living, in Shark infested land.
My beloved Kings were flailing, and I was treading for my life,
How could I be so callous, to my son, and my loving wife?
It really hasn’t been pleasant, surrounded by “Guppies” with fins,
I’m a diehard L.A. Kings fan, who wants to feel the thrill of the win!
And so in this year, 2011, you’ve loosened the purse strings and bolstered the team.
I believe that you’re now a contender, and I really don’t think it’s a dream.
So take the ice, and play your hearts out, and to the league let it be known
The years of frustration are finally over, you are bringing The Stanley Cup Home!
somethincrazy wrote a Haiku:
Kopitar to Brown
Brown up the boards to Doughty
Looks, shoots, and he scores
Leon claims he barely passed high school English:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I feed the Ducks bread,
And the Kings rule.
Juliet gives us:
Purple and black were on the attack.
Got to the playoffs, were on the right track.
Purple is out, so now we look like Raiders!
Bring home the cup, thumb our nose at the haters!
It’s that time of the season,
You can feel it in the air.
No, Football’s not the reason,
Go ahead say it if you dare!
King’s Hockey is back!
On offense its Kopitar, Williams and Gagne.
On defense its Drew and Jack,
In goal could be Quick or Bernier.
Good games bring fan delight!
Bad games bring out the worse in some.
In times as these ducks fans take flight.
Win or lose we Kings Fans still come!
The board is set,
The pieces are moving.
How far will we get?
We’ll know when the men start shaving!
After five years of building and waiting
Lombardi’s plan has come to fruition.
Laughed at, mocked, the journey’s been frustrating,
But this years’ Kings fear no opposition.
When the time comes to face the Sharks and Nucks,
Kopi and Richards will lead the attacks.
LA streets run red with the blood of Ducks
Clifford and Brown hit anything that quacks.
Lookout Stanley, the royal reign’s begun
with Pride and Passion no other teams bring.
Nothing can hinder a deep playoff run,
Ladies and Gents, Your Los Angeles Kings!
Staples Center will roar “We Want the Cup!”
Next season we’ll see our banner go up.
Dominick brings us:
THE CHICKEN, OR THE EGG
If it wasn’t for the Kings, I would have never played the game.
If I would have never played the game, I would have never fell in love with it.
If I would have never fell in love with it, I would have never loved the Kings.
If I would have never loved the Kings, I would have never played the game.
And if I would have never played the game, I would have never known the Kings.
There once was a team called the Kings who flew over Nantucket;
Lots of turbulance caused poor Penner to chuck it.
All over poor Brownie and Darryl Evans black shiny suit;
Ran over the top of Richie’s cowboy boots.
Now there he sits all alone waiting for the Grayhound bus;
Holding his poor knee and wiping up the pus!
Your blue canvas beneath, O Pacific, your feudal tries to take us down
Many men, many lives have been weakened, deceived, or destroyed
But with pride, this ship, our ship blessed with treasures of the Crown
Our glimmering prize, not your conquest, but a chalice we cannot avoid
For upon this dawn, this day, this ship, these men, this glorious season
We set out in the dark on foreign soil and step into the blue Pacific
Our will cannot be broken, our hearts beat for this is our only reason
The life we live, the ice we cut, the scores we settle, we are now prolific
Cannot forget the past, the conquests of Fowls, revenge of Great Whites
All the kills, all the missed out-manned massacres, and even illegal lumber
For we alone know the horror of seeing our Prize taken in the night
The thieves, inhabitants of a storied tradition, will watch us lift this summer
And let us not forget those we have sworn to extinguish, like an ancient Fire
Or the slickened blackness that historically crushed our hopes and desire
Cities built by Orca-filled bays and natives in windy towns have cut like a brier
As we sail this day, O Pacific, our fists tighten our skills will never tire
Upon this season, O Pacific, we will leave your open waters to face the best
Dropping the past like a forgotten childish phantom, we will stand with force
Our ship, though bloody and battered, is renewed and prepared for conquest
It is Lord Stanley, our Crown for the City of Angels, alone setting our course.
Kingsfaninportland can’t make the game, but if he wins he gets to pick who gets the tickets:
Twas the night before hockey season, not a peep in the house,
because Drew Doughty was out eating, and chasing some blouse.
So we snuck inside, knowing no ones around.
Checking ID’s at the door, was the hit man Dustin Brown.
Knock knock. Who can that be? Why Brad Richards arrived!
Just kidding, it’s Mike, I’m sorry that I lied.
Kevin Westgarth came next, waiting, standing there.
But I didn’t answer, because who really cares.
Matt Greene couldn’t come, was at home making jokes,
about how bad Quicks golf swing is and that he lost by 15 strokes.
Who can that be, getting out of his car?
Oh, it’s big time, Anze Kopitar.
Clifford arrived, in a tux and a tie,
But we all still noticed his glaring black eye.
Dinner was ready, so we all gathered near.
Bernier ate some chicken, Scott Parse just drank beer.
Gagne sat down, asking questions in French.
I hope that his next seat, is not injured on the bench.
One by one the rest came, a few didn’t ring the bell,
but that’s quite ok, they’re from the AHL.
Last, but not least, new footsteps approach.
Damn, it’s Terry Murray, the same shitty coach.
As the night ended, I wished everyone good luck,
and before they all left, we shouted DUCKS SUCK!
Jeff314 shouldn’t have submitted because he sits 10 feat away from me:
Bye Bye Terry Murray
You Big Piece of Shit
I Want to Get Rid of You
Like a Big Juicy Zit
Marcus350 follows up:
If the Kings send Murray packin’
Tell them to get rid of Penner too.
The system aint workin right,
Is this the best we can do?
Let’s try a different system
Something completely new,
Give the fans something to cheer
Other than a loud “boo!”
Penner was slow,
His performance stunk like poo
Somebody check his skates,
I think they were stuck in glue!
Kingsfaninportland thought it was OK to submit two poems. It’s not:
This is disgusting,
I think I’ma need Tums,
I just saw Parse, Penner and Murray
In a “who-sucks-worse unmanly three some.
The team played like shit,
so that’s why the D’s won.
On paper we look good like Obama
but what exactly has he done.
Penner rushes the net
then next second the bench is where he comes.
Not aware of the fact he played
only seconds. God he’s dumb.
CoffeeIsForClosers apparently likes Dave Tippett:
Terry Murray’s tried his best,
But Andy did, too.
It makes a Kings fan wonder,
Dave Tippett – Where are you?
Poor Kompon’s got a screw loose,
The power play just won’t do.
These set plays are not working!
Dave Tippett – Where are you?
The defense has gotten better,
Which Terry did improve.
But Jack Adams isn’t knocking.
So what else can TM do?
So Terry, we will keep you,
But move down a seat or two.
We need to make some room for…
Marc Crawford? NO, not you!!
LA needs her Scotty Bowman.
Is a sweater vest waiting for you?
Robbie Ftorek is in Erie.
Dave Tippett – Paging you…
Feralcat67 calls this effort, luckily for him, effort wasn’t a prerequisite:
I dreampt of Patty Burns
when Crawford was retained
But now the dream’s on hold
as Patty’s been detained
A. Wongsby is late to the party, but not too late:
There once was a player named Kopi
Who fell on bad ice and we hoped he
Would come back recovered
This year he’ll discover
The Cup and the Conn Smythe trophy