Tomorrow is July 1st. For 33 million people it is a day to relax in the sun, imbibe some cold beverages, and most importantly, see what course their team's general manager will chart for the next few years. The signings will hopefully come in quickly and frequently or the TSN UFA Day Coverage will be as farcical as it was on deadline day. Fans will go to bed tonight with dreams of Brad Richards and Christian Ehrhoff dancing in their head hoping to arise to good news on dollars and term. In honour of those hopes and dreams, Twitter superstar Ace (@SuicidePass who you should be following unless you hate fun) penned the following incredible story.
'Twas the night before Griftmas, and all GMs dreamed
Of lousy free agents who'll ruin their teams.
The agents lay sleeping on big piles of cash
Dreaming of ways they'd unload all their trash.
Their rosters were hung by the whiteboards with care
In hopes that the new Milbury soon would be there.
Brad Richards was dozing, secure in belief
That Burkie would come through and make him a Leaf.
His agent speared unicorn meat on his fork
Then picked up his phone and said, 'put me through to New York!'
The receptionist answered and after some taps
Put the agent's call directly through in to Slats."
'A center!' said Glen, ' why that's just what I need!'
'How 'bout we sign him for 10 mil, guaranteed?'
'But Glen,' said the agent, 'my client needs more.'
'No sweat,' hollered Sather, 'i'll give him 10 more!'
Then the GM hung up, then he reached for his stogies.
And said, 'maybe i should have asked him for some goalies.'
Sign Naslund! Sign Redden! Sign Gaborik! Sign Drury!
Sign Avery! Sign Gomez! Sign Jagr! and Wizniewski!
Meanwhile, in Toronto, where playoffs were missed
A blustery Irishman consulted his list.
The Irishman frowned, for the pickings were slim
Then he picked a file labeled: 'Connolly, Tim.'
'A center!' said Burkie. 'and better, a Yank!
If we sign this lad, there's no way we can tank!'
The GM was happy, no need for a trade!
Then he picked up the phone and he planned a parade.
'But Brian,' said Nonis, Burke's second-in-charge
'The head injuries! his poor brain may be scarred!'
At this, Burke did pause. He was still on the fence.
Would Connolly provide him with much truculence?
'He's fine,' grumbled Burkie. 'now hand me the phone.
Let's bring this fat free-agent fishy on home.'
So Burke called the agent, and then, with a wink.
The contract was signed (in blood, not with ink.)
And then Burkie smiled, and with great impish glee
He threw in a couple of draft picks for free.
Then the frenzy was over. The deadline had come.
Leaf fans were incensed: what the fuck has Burke done?
'You wanted a center,' Burke said with a snarl.
'Just be happy I didn't swap Schenn for Matt Carle.
'And now,' said the Irishman, his shirt still untucked.
'Merry Griftmas to all! we're all royally fucked!'
Thanks to @Baroque97 and @newt330 who came up with the Milbury line and the sound off of UFAs respectively.