First of all, thank you to everyone for participating. We had fun with this and hope you did too. Also thanks again to VIP Tickets for supplying the tickets which we nuts covet so much. The next contest is right around the corner and will be announced a little later today. So don’t fret the rest of you, there are plenty more chances to win Kings tickets! We promise the next few won’t require such lofty work on your part.
Onto the winner, Michael Berkowitz. Congratulations!
I actually lost sleep over this decision. Scribe did too. Well, Scribe nods off every 20 minutes or so for a few seconds, so there really isn’t a decision he doesn’t lose sleep over. Poor guy, I hope the nursing home has the Center Ice package.
I had worried initially that Michael’s entry being first up and so strong that he would have scared others away. While we did end up receiving other quality submissions, no one pulled on the heart strings like Michael. Even if it was kind of a sly play to throw in that you wrote it with your dad (I have an affinity towards father/son hockey bonding), your poem rang true on so many levels that we could not find cause to deny you the tickets. Don’t worry, we tried. I’m a sour grape with the disgruntled fiance to prove it. Scribe fancies himself a laureate harbinger of prose. So that’s how good your poem was Michael, that it overcame the grumblings of a cynic and the eminence of a snob. The highly personal touch hurtled you over the threshold and beyond the rest of the contestants. Well done, sir.
Below I will once again post Michael’s winning entry. So read it and weep, losers. Well, not everyone is a loser. The reason this decision was so agonizing for us is because there were some other really great entries. KingsFanInPortland, with his rendition of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” easily wins the comedy award and almost took home the grand prize, even if he did upstage my “Night Before Frozen Fury” lame attempt at poetry.
However the other big news of the day, news we didn’t intend on giving when we set out to do this, is that we actually have a runner-up to announce who gets a prize of his own. Reader Tim’s poem was really fantastic. His was the closest that came to an attempt at classical artistry and inspired memories of tortured reading in High School Senior year literature class.
Bravo Tim, for just barely losing out on the two tickets to the Devil’s game on Tuesday, we hope you are reading right now and are available tomorrow because you win Scribe’s extra ticket to the Dallas game. Short notice, we know, but again we never had intention to giving a runner up prize in the first place. However it was so close that we would have felt you were robbed to not get something, so if you can make it to the game tomorrow, a seat next to Scribe is yours for the taking.
Michael and Tim, you will be receiving emails from us shortly. All that is left now is for the Kings’ to grace your wins in kind with the falling of Stars and the smiting of Devils.
GO KINGS GO!
Michael’s winning poem:
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!
And Tim’s runner up:
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.