Oklahoma City Barons Poetry Slam “Season”

The steps of a champion are forged by their maker
Their master
Their consumption of discipline

From first Bauer skate purchases
To their worship at high protein shake churches
The road to goodness, nay greatness, often comes in gargantuan lurches

From October to April the struggle is present
As prospects take flight like a highly caffeinated pheasant

There was Linus, a Lander, a Pitlick, aplenty,
But nary a prospect Steve T founded as ready

We digress
Play to impress
Struggle to not be a mess
A defender in his youth

The cry from the bleachers was long and it was clear
Like a sharpened knife that is thrown like spear

The message was simple “Win More Games”, please
The response was epic as the coaches decreed

“We will win more games come hell or high water”
But none believed this cannon of blathering fodder

Except for the humble Barons believer
Who loves their Coach Nelson like a Diet Mountain Dew two-liter

The team sharpened its focus
The grizzled eyes did appear
They beared down in the West
And emerged without any fear

You see while Gernat was instagramming his lifestyles a transformation took place
Despite not revolutionizing turnstiles

Arco was gone
Marincin got good
Klefbom showed promise
Everyone knock on wood

Nesbitt was traded for a guy with bite
While Martindale was swapped for a guy who never backed down from a fight

Nine tenders
Nine tenders
All of them able
Only one survived as both willing and able

Oh tears
My tears
How a Teemu was needed
Or a Rajala with skill
My heart, it still beatin’?

The frame
The shape
The season we did watch
Was excruciating at best
For months we did mock

Emerging from the other side
Bruised, weathered, beaten
Our noses were bent, our teeth almost bleedin’

The Thompson fedora proved their was some swagger
Nestled behind the blue line that performed like Mick Jagger

Heaves and Ho’s
Dances and Bros
The team stands united despite whom the foe.

I believe in the MacT spout
The clout
Unlike the fermenting smell of six day old trout

You fashioned us young
Us needy
Us green
You turned our sights towards more promise of things

Run DMC echoes through my mind
Large shoes, Steven Tyler
And which way I’m to choose

“Walk This Way” not that
From the puck drop to whistle
To steal a quote from a classic
Don’t dare be the down of a thistle

Blowing away
Rowing away
Side stepping potential
Because you didn’t come to play

Bill Scott seemed stuck
Lost in his luck
Ready to buy that new truck
But for an extra buck
He stuck
To the plan to revive the muck

He won the hearts of the Oilers front office
Bowed gracefully to the crowd with whom he’d been lauded

The struggle
The steps
Towards goodness
Towards greatness

Todd Nelson has decisions
Like big ones
Dreams to be the head coach he can be
Dreams to be more pronounced than a Duke sliding through the General Lee

It hurts
It burns
It feels sorta awkward
Knowing that Eakins remains while Todd Nelson might cut his losses

But we traverse the plains
Hoping for a Sauter stache wiggle
Hoping that the off-season doesn’t cause me to jiggle

When MacIntyre donned that cowboy hat you cried
Like it was the first time you saw him punch some dude who’s a snide

For we are Barons
All of us
You and me
We stand for something great
We give little plea

We get that we are good
Know that we are blessed
We all understand the cost we must digest

That chicken finger basket
One dollar hot dog
Those nachos and peanuts that make your stomach a log

We aim to please
Hashtag with ease
Cringe when we see a soccer ad
Brings us to our knees

Good gosh, what a season
Forget public opinion, “Don’t Stop Believin'”

It’s the thing that makes us great
Makes us fun
Makes us search Google for Californian Tyler Bunz

We are faithful
We are few
We are crazy
We are near
We kinda sorta like the Thunder and pray that statement falls on a deaf ear

While you flip through photos
Shot from you cell phone rear camera
Remember how great Stretch wore that stache for is Gramma’

I feel like I needed more
Like I deserved more
Like Texas stole from the desperate and poor

Yet time had run out
The wheels stoped runnin’
Horak stopped gunnin’
Fyten stopped funnin’
Eager stopped punnin’
Nurse remained a youn ‘un

All hang in the balance of what the master deems coddle

Front to back
Back to front
Side to side
Run and hide

As AHL teams disappear from the West
Prepare yourself for a stake in the best

The best state, which I’m told is California
They’ve got snow skiing and surfing and coolness like nothing in the pages of Patagonia

More like chuck-and-duck

When cars are won the crowd gets large
But so does the wallet when you drive off in a barge

I love you
I do
A team of Canadian folks
Via a country that that serves eggs with their yolks

The next time you find me fearful
Point to the Davidson
The least cowardice official

From all angles
From all sides
From the South side of the Cox parking garage

As I walked passed the ticket counter
The smell of deals in the evening
I often wondered why this team was birthed without any bleeding

Was it too easily had
Did we take it for granted
“No!” said I, I never wants a sad

So storm season approaches
Team, hold your head high
Promise to get better
Promise to not subside

Focus on muscle mass
Darnell get to eatin’
But never forget one remarkable season