The unmistakable sound of metal carving through ice,
Armored gladiators move swiftly
Wielding wooden weapons with curved blades
As they chase a hard black disc.
Bodies slam into the boards,
The boisterous crowd masks the sounds of cracking bones.
One team scores, then the other.
The crowd cheers, and then they boo.
Two competitors exchange words,
Then fists.

Seconds tick off the clock,
Before they know it the game draws to a close.
Sweat drips from every pore,
Steam rises from the warriors' helmets.
The game has not yet been decided,
So extra time is needed.
The purest form of competition,
The first to score wins.
A skater breaks away from the defense.
He shoots, he scores, he goes home and waits for the chance to play again.