I like to imagine that this hockey poem could have been written by Albert Forrest, the youngest goalie ever to play in a Stanley Cup series (in 1905, for Dawson City, versus Ottawa. Forrest lost the second game by a 23–2 score).
The Night I Faced One-eyed Frank McGee
Yes, I’m the boy who stood in goal,
Facing pucks he hurled at me.
Yes, I’m the lad whose job it was
To stop the Great McGee.
I tried my best but failed the test,
For the record shows that he
Scored 14 goals in a single game,
And all of them on me.
Oh dear, oh my, it was a catastrophe!
They cheered him loud, they cheered him long.
It was quite a sight to see.
Each time he scored, the more they roared,
“You’re our hero, Frank McGee.”
I stood there shaken, looking on,
The victim of his spree.
Oh yes, he scored those 14 goals,
It was easy as could be.
I wish he’d done it somewhere else,
And on someone else—not me!
When he tired, his mates took up the slack
Till the score reached 23.
Oh dear, oh my, it was a catastrophe!
Someday, when I’m old and grey
With my grandson on my knee,
I’ll tell him of the night I faced
The mighty Frank McGee.
I’ll tell him of his blazing shot
And his boundless energy
And how he played with one bad eye—
Why, the man could hardly see!
But his scoring touch was a gift from God,
At least, that’s my philosophy.
I’ll talk about Lord Stanley’s Cup
And how it slipped away from me
Because of hockey’s greatest star,
Old one-eyed Frank McGee.
Oh dear, oh my, it was such a catastrophe!
To read more about Albert Forrest look for my book, The Youngest Goalie at your local library or try finding it :
In Canada at this link:The Youngest Goalie
In the US at this link: Youngest Goalie
. Would you consider this bookshelf or bathroom reading material?
