I understand how Tigers might win in a vicious fight,
And lions, likewise, live by tooth and claw, and so they might

Prevail, as might a Hawk, a Bear — a Bru’n if not a cub
A Giant might do okay too, but not, and here’s the rub…

A Duck. You just don’t name your team for an aquatic bird
That swims around in circles in a pond. It’s just absurd

To think a Duck would do much more than swoop down and get shot,
Or lie upon a plate adorned with orange sauce. It’s a lot

Of wild imagination that’s required now to think
That this team called the Ducks of Anaheim is on the brink

Of flapping to the finals of the Stanley Cup this season,
And more bizarre than that, I think, is that the only reason

The Ducks are called the Ducks and known, against all odds, as Mighty,
Is that the owners in a move that you might think is flighty

Once made a movie called the Mighty Ducks about a team
Of hockey-playing kids and the fulfilling of a dream…

And is that name the worst that could be thought up by a flak?
Well, they could be the Little Mermaids, or the doomed Hunchback…

Since Disney made those movies, too, if I have got it right,
The team might also have come to be known as the Snow White.

Ah, well, I guess this speculation’s all so much hot air,
‘Cause if the Ducks weren’t very good, they wouldn’t be quite where

They are, just short of mightily contending for the mug.
Despite the silly name they carry, they may win the jug,

For I recall a silly foul, more round and fat than manly,
That toddled off with that great chalice named for old Lord stanley…
Twas when the town of Pittsburgh was awash with happy cries…

Those wadd’ling, duck-like Penguins skated off with hockey’s prize.