We soldier on, to Christmas eve. We have made it past Festivis, and we now need to hunker down and make it through tomorrow. The good news? No hockey for two days means we don't have to deal with Dater griping about the Avs for a couple days. The bad news? We'll probably have to read him whine about the holidays. Just guessing.
As we close this little project out, we have almost run out of winter holidays. I hope everyone enjoyed Saturnalia yesterday, I know I did. The reason we are using the Twelve Days of Christmas is because we cannot seem to find a Twelve Days of Hogmanay tune to sing it to. If you find one, let us know.
Make the jump for today's verse.
For a little change of pace, and assuming everyone knows the tune, we look at what happens after Christmas:
And today's verse:
On the eleventh day of Wild Christmas, the Wild gave to me:
Eleven shots per game, ten years of hockey, the ninth draft position, eight remaining teeth, SEVEN years of Mikko, six draft busts, NOOOOO STANLEY CUP RINGS! Four blind officials, three fightin' Finns, two periods of actual hockey, and an owner who keeps gnashing his teeth.