By Jonathan Coulton

Somewhere in the darkness
There’s a man they call The Skipper fast asleep
And dreaming of gold
He wakes before the sun comes
Even though he’d rather stay in bed
He curses the cold in Minnesota
Why’s it always so damn cold
But he’s got a job to do
He does it for me and you
And the red and the white and the blue
Because he knows he’s got to curl

His team is there and ready
Though the coffee’s warm, their breath hangs in the air
They hit the ice
No one’s there to see it
There’s no press or paparazzi and that’s OK
But it’d be nice if someone noticed
That they’ve all been working hard
Pushing these rocks around
Trying to gain some ground
Got the keep the Canadians down
And all they got to do is curl

Their lives outside are waiting
But they give until they’ve given all they have
They’re dead on their feet
The Skipper isn’t certain
But he thinks that maybe this could be the year
When they defeat the world forever
And they bring that medal home
But now it seems years away
He’s taking it day by day
When it comes he’ll be ready to play
That’s why he knows he’s got to curl

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