How the Kroenke Killed Hockey

An ode to E. Stanley Kroenke, owner of the Colorado Avalanche, with apologies to Dr. Suess

Every Fan
Down in Denver
Liked Hockey a lot...

But the Kroenke,
Who lived East of Denver,
Did NOT!

The Kroenke hated Hockey! The whole Hockey season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his fists were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

But,
Whatever the reason,
His heart or his hands,
He stood there on Game Night, hating the Fans,
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Kroenke-y frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Fan down in Denver below
Was busy now, watching the Av's pre-game show.

"And they're wearing their jerseys!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Hockey! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his Kroenke fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Hockey from coming!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...

...All the Fan girls and boys
Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their seats!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Fans, young and old, would sit down to their cheers.
And they'd cheer! And they'd cheer!
And they'd CHEER! CHEER! CHEER! CHEER!
They would start on hot-dogs, and micro-brewed beer
Which was something the Kroenke couldn't stand for a year!

And THEN
They'd do something he liked least of all!
Every Fan down in Denver, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with the PA system ringing.
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Fans would start singing!

(do do-do do-do HEY! do-do do-do do-do...)

They'd sing! And they'd sing!
AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more the Kroenke thought of the Fan-Hockey-Sing
The more the Kroenke thought, "I must stop this whole thing!
"Why for eleven whole years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop Hockey from happening!
...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE KROENKE
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Kroenke Laughed without mercy.
And he made a quick Red Wing-y helmet and jersey.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Kroenke-y trick!
"With this jersey and this hat, I'll look just like Saint Nick!"

"I need a Bertuzzi..."
The Kroenke looked around.
But since Bertuzzis are scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old Kroenke...?
No! The Kroenke simply said,
"If I can't find a Red Wing, I'll make one instead!"
So he called for his yeti. Then he took some red thread
And he tied a red helmet on top of his head.

THEN
He loaded some bags
And some used dollar bills
In a beat up Rolls-Royce
And he aimed for the hills.

Then the Kroenke said, "Giddyap!"
And the Rolls started down
Toward the homes where the Fans
Lay a-snooze in their town.

All their windows were dark. Homeowner and renter.
All the Fans were all dreaming of ticket contests to enter
When he came to the doors of the great Pepsi Center.
"This is stop number one," The old Kroenke-y Wing hissed
And he stomped through the door, empty bags in his fist.

Then he slid 'cross the ice. At first he was panicky.
But if Lidstrom could do it, then so could the Kroenke.
He fell down only once, like a sack full of rocks.
Then he stuck his head out of the penalty box
Where the little Fan jerseys all hung in a row.
"These jerseys," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with his haircut so layered,
Around the whole rink, and he took every player!
Forsberg! And Hejduk! And Foote (oh so wily)!
Stastny! Galiardi! Duchene! And O'Reilly!
And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Kroenke, oh so jaded,
For sacks full of cash, one by one, they were traded!

Then he slunk to the boxes. He took the Fans' seats!
He charged for convenience! Without giving the least!
He cleaned out that ice rink as quick as a flash.
Why, that Kroenke even took their last can of Falstaff!

Then he stuffed all the cash in the Rolls Royce. What a haul!.
"And NOW!" grinned the Kroenke, "We will watch basket ball!"

And the Kroenke grabbed the team, and he started to shove
When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.
He turned around fast, and he saw a small Fan!
Little Cindy-Lou Fan, who was not more than ten.

The Kroenke had been caught by this little Fan daughter
Who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.
She stared at the Kroenke and said, "Lidstrom, why,
"Why are you taking our Hockey team? WHY?"

But, you know, that old Kroenke was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Lidstrom lied,
"There's a player on this team that won't fight on one side.
"So I'm taking it home to Detroi-it, my dear.
"I'll fix it up there. Then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head
And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed.
And when Cindy-Lou Fan went to bed with her cup,
HE went to the Rolls and he f**ked the team up!

Then the last thing he took
Was the championship banner.
As he walked out the doors, hit the guard with a spanner.
On their ice he left nothing but a year-old day planner.

And the one speck of hockey
That he left in the house
Was a cup that was even too small for a mouse.


Then
He did the same thing
To the other teams' houses

Leaving cups
Much too small
For the other Teams' mouses!

It was quarter past dawn...
All the Fans, still asleep
All the Fans, still a-snooze
When he packed up his heap,
Packed it up with their money! Their players! Foppa's Crocs!
The sticks! And the skates! The jock straps! The socks!

Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit,
He rode to the tiptop to dump it!
"Pooh-pooh to the Fans!" he was Kroenke-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no Hockey is coming!
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
"The all the Fans down in Denver will all cry BOO-HOO!"

"That's a noise," grinned the Kroenke,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the Kroenke put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow...

But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn't be so!
But it WAS merry! VERY!

He stared down at Denver!
The Kroenke popped his eyes!
Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking surprise!

Every Fan down in Denver, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any Avalanche at all!
He HADN'T stopped Hockey from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Kroenke, with his Kroenke-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
They play without baskets! They play without balls!
"They play without kickers and run into walls!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Kroenke thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Hockey," he thought, "isn't quite such a bore.
"Maybe Hockey...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

And what happened then...?
Well...in Denver they say
That the Kroenke's small heart
Grew three sizes that day!
And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight,
He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light
And he brought back the team! And the beer for the drunks!
And he...

...HE HIMSELF...!
The Kroenke carved the Red Wings in chunks!