by Charles Campbell
This week, we'll be introducing one new blog member each day of the week. Today's post comes from Charles Campbell. You can find Charles on Twitter at @ccamp87, and you can check out all our new authors' bios here.
For his first post, Charles has taken his favourite poem, "The Cremation of Sam McGee," by Robert W. Service, and transformed it into a magnificent, perhaps timeless work of art. Without further ado, we present to you, "The Creation of a Legendary Swede."
There are strange things done in the Ottawa Sun  |
| Photoshop by new Mulleteer: Matty Go Sens |
The Creation of a Legendary Swede
To the men in red and gold;
"Soft" players who’ve failed, have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Queensway Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night from the pen, of Don Brennan,
"Karlsson’s a ‘Garbage Pick’," said he.
Now Karlsson was from Landsbro, Sweden; where blonde hair shines and flows.
Why he left his home in Sverige to roam 'round the Capital; the ‘Euge definitely knows.
He was seen as frail, but the Beavertail; seemed to hold him like a spell;
And he'd often say, in his Nordic way; that "warm-up Nickleback is hell."
On a warm June day, we were climbing our way; up Scotiabank Place’s stairs.
Talk of the buzz! A deep draft it was; with many future franchise players.
Stamkos! Doughty! Bogosian! Hodgson!; Pietrangelo and Schenn;
All big names, they’d win us the games; alas, gone in the top ten.
As the big names fell, for Sens fans it was hell; our pick seemed so far-flung
Up sprung Bettman, who said "A trade's been made; And you’re going to like this one."
Boos turned to cheers, and people chugged beers; in anticipation of the news.
Two picks for one, and a move up the board; to ensure their target they’d choose.
Well, the crowd seemed pumped, and the children jumped; we had moved up three whole picks:
Names were thrown out, I heard somebody shout; “Is it Cuma? I heard that guy’s SICK.”
Then up from the floor, came a creature of lore; it was Alfie, our savior, our king!
To announce the selection, and from every section; the cheers for him did ring.
Ever so humble, he did not stumble; but shushed the crowd then begun,
"The Senators select, from J20 SuperElit; Erik Karlsson."
A cheer arose, yet quieter than before, as people checked their lists.
And after searching they found, in the second round; a name to that point they had missed.
The talk was hushed, the rest of the round rushed; by Sens fans with hardly a heed.
As everyone talked, while the writers balked; about this young, unknown Swede.
Things were written, authors weren’t smitten; with a perceived waste of a choice
Yet Brian Murray, not in a hurry; said with a clear and confident voice.
"We had our guy, and heard on the sly; that he wouldn’t wait around,
We needed to jump, to get over the hump; because we knew he wouldn’t slide down.
His name is unknown, his work yet unshown; but know that very soon.
Before too long, you’ll be cheering 'Karlsson'; and his popularity will balloon."
Yet still the doubters, those exact same shouters; who will always tell you to "SHOOOT!"
Did not believe, that this little Swede; would be anything more than moot.
Through his first season, he did give reason; for doubting of his skill.
His +/- was bad, and the fans were sad; "He’s not even worth a mill'."
But the years he spent, in Alfie’s basement; helped him more than can be said.
His defense improved, the puck he moved; all with a calm, cool head.
His numbers made history, no longer a mystery; he seemed he could not fail.
He put everything together, and kept getting better; and won defensemen’s holy grail.
The ‘mups he lit, the numbers he hit; still to some just weren’t enough.
"He’s an offenseman, he can’t defend; and besides, he really not tough."
And then that night, we got a fright; on that February day so chilly.
Cut by the blade, of he who shall not be named; literally the heel of Achilles.
Now he’s back to full form, to return to the norm; of how he was before.
Sens fans all know, that he’s bout to show; higher numbers and more.
Yet things are grim, dreams of the cup look dim; the internal budget looms huge,
Because the owner’s views, on the T.O. news; "We can’t spend to the cap" says the ‘Euge.
But all’s not lost in the capital; where things have looked real dark.
There are pieces there, foes should beware; they can provide a spark.
Two captains are gone, it’s time for the kids, to show us what they can do.
The familiar faces of the glory days; make way for the wave of new.
So here’s to the Sens, led by Karlsson; let’s hope they can lead us to the dance
And goo goo g’joob, to the Paulrus too; he’ll at least give us a chance.
It’s been a long summer, which is always a bummer; but the hockey season’s nigh;
So drop the puck, and best of luck; to our special little guy.
There are strange things done in the Ottawa Sun
To the men in red and gold;
"Soft" players who’ve failed, have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Queensway Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night from the pen, of Don Brennan,
"Karlsson’s a ‘Garbage Pick’," said he.