Last week I tried to capture the spirit of trade deadline ennui with a song. That did not pan out. Against all odds, as Bob Cole once told us, everything, is happening.
As a professional capturer of spirits, I am forced to attempt to remedy this mistake.
If you imagine a loud, but radio-friendly, punk version of Jungle Bells you'll have the right sound in your head.
Melody: traditional, sort of
Fire sale! Fire sale! Everything must go!
Tried to trade the president for picks in Buffalo--oh!
Fire sale! Fire sale! Who do you want most?
Tried to win the Cup but now we've given up the ghost.
Selling players off
for whatever you'll give
Second, third round picks,
goalies that are sieves
Some of our assets may be slightly toxic though.
Not to worry, there's a place in Florida they'll go! OH,
Fire sale! Fire sale! Free to a good home!
Take this contract please so we can rebuild on our own--oh!
Fire sale! Fire sale! Can't sign UFAs?
Why wait til the summer when you can have them today?
Fire sale! Fire sale! Our season's a 'nope,'
So have fun selling wins while all of us are selling hope!