text: He looked more like our fathers
  Not a goalie, player, athlete period
  Smoke, half-ash, stuck in that permanent smirk
  Tugging jersey around the beer gut
  Im strictly a whiskey man
  Was one of the sticks he taped up
  And gave to a nation of pudgy boys in beverage rooms
  Favorites from Plymptons list
  Of objects thrown by Rangers fans
  Soup cans, persimmon, eggs, a folding chair and a dead rabbit
  The nervous breakdown of 68 and 69
  After pant-crap flights from LA, the expansion
  A shrink told me to change occupations, I had to forget it
  He swore he was never afraid of the puck, we believe him
  If anyone asks, the inscription should read
  My face was my mask.