Minor League Hockey Sonnet Poem by David Welch

Small city arena long out of date,
that is where this B-league team plays their games,
young men learning, hopes for fortune and fame.
I watch the practice, they shoot and they skate,
remember back when I was at that weight…
Here at least the ticket prices are sane,
NHL's prices send shocks through my brain,
this is a fun time, even if they don't rate.

The clean smell of ice as they drop the puck,
racing past blue lines from board to board,
small man gets cross-checked, he seems out of luck,
then big man in the box for five minutes more,
power play offense, a slap-shot is struck,
bounces of the goalie, a scramble to score…