The Night I Faced Old Mark Recchi
( Or the Night I lost Game Seven)
by Roberto Luongo
Yes, I’m the one who stood in goal,
Facing pucks he hurled at me.
Yes, I’m the lad whose job it was
To stop the Great Recchi.
I tried my best but failed the test,
For the record shows that he
Scored 14 goals in a single game,
And all of them on me.
Oh dear, oh my, it was a catastrophe!
They cheered him loud, they cheered him long.
It was quite a sight to see.
Each time he scored, the more they roared,
“You’re our hero, Mark Recchi.”
I stood there shaken, looking on,
The victim of his spree.
Oh yes, he scored those 14 goals,
It was easy as could be.
I wish he’d done it somewhere else,
And on someone else—not me!
When he tired, his mates took up the slack
Till the score reached 23.
Oh dear, oh my, it was a catastrophe!
Someday, when I’m old and grey
With my grandson on my knee,
I’ll tell him of the night I faced
The mighty Mark Recchi.
I’ll tell him of his blazing shot
And his boundless energy
And how he played with one bad eye—
Why, the old man could hardly see!
But his scoring touch was a gift from God,
At least, that’s my philosophy.
I’ll talk about Lord Stanley’s Cup
And how it slipped away from me
Because of one hockey’s greatest stars,
Old, old Mark Recchi.
( With apologies to the Great One-eyed Frank McGee)