Firing Blanks

For whatever reason late last night, I decided to construct a work summarizing my feelings on the Ranger offensive futility. Appropriately titled, "Firing Blanks," I think you'll agree with the sentiment expressed. Just remember. It's supposed to be humorous and put smiles on people's faces. Though I'm not real certain it will do that for Blueshirt supporters.

This poem is dedicated to the gang which can't shoot straight on Broadway.

"Firing Blanks"
By Derek Felix

There once was a team who used to routinely score
Only to one day turn the back of the net into a constant chore
Now they fire just blanks and look practically dead
Yet somehow their goalie keeps them in games to win instead

Now the hometown fans sit on their hands and knees
Begging and praying for some accurate shooters please
Is it too much to ask for at least a three goal night
Or is that request just plain out of sight

Questions continue to linger as the days carry on
Just a battle to find some consistent offense before the crack of dawn
Will it actually happen or might something else go wrong
Or can they finally beat the Islanders with only two before too long

This is the classic case of a team with just stone hands
Suddenly they're all Marcel Hossa in an angry MSG land
People ponder if they'll rediscover their touch
Or if this month long funk will turn into so much

But questions shall only be answered in the coming days
With fans hoping not to continue to fall asleep in an utter drunken daze
In the meantime the supporters will be there to scream and shout
And hope for the team to breakout just once for a miraculous rout

That's the motto for a team which can't shoot straight
It's time for them to find the magic sticks and become great
Or face the wrath of the fans who will curse and yell
Half wondering if their star laden team has gone eternally to hell