Hymn of Lamentation for the Defeat against Dallas

Pierre Castonguay

chant, ambient, ancient music

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According to the Tone of Great Collapses and Evenings Without Miracles

I — The Opening of the Wounds

O Holy Flannel,
open our bruised lips
so that the heavy song of defeat may rise.

For Dallas, in its cold star,
struck without mercy our goaltenders, our defenders,
even our very confidence.

The goals piled up
like stones on the back of an exhausted pilgrim.
And each poorly-handled rebound
rang like a funeral bell in the Temple of the Bell Centre.

II — The Analysis of the Shipwreck
1. The Shattered Defense

The men of the blue line wandered,
slow to pivot,
timid in punishment,
overwhelmed by Texan speed.

Zone exits became orphans,
coverage tore apart
like an old banner exposed to the wind.

2. The Silent Offense

The stick of the Glorious grew heavy,
too heavy for creation.
Passes died
before even reaching their target,
as though inspiration itself
had deserted the Holy Ice.

3. The Goaltender Alone in the Storm

Before the net,
the solitude was total.

Shots flew — cruel diagonals,
deadly rebounds,
surgical precision.

And even when the glove rose up,
it was no longer enough
to calm the star-forged tide.

III — Invocation of Repentance

O beloved Tricolour,
we are not ashamed to weep with you.

For this defeat is not a betrayal:
it is a revelation.

A revelation that defensive transition must harden,
that structural indiscipline must cease,
that the breakout must recover its purity,
and that the first pass must once again become an act of faith,
not a leap into the void.

IV — Hope Despite Everything

Let the faithful not tremble:
the Church of the Holy Flannel reminds us
that every crushing defeat contains the seed of resurrection.

For after the night of seven-to-nothing,
comes the morning of adjustments.
After the debacle,
comes the saving video session.
After humiliation,
comes the strengthening of the group.

And often,
it is in the worst routs
that the strongest future victories are forged.

V — The Closing of the Lamentations

That the Stars shone brighter tonight
does not erase the eternal light of the Holy Flannel.

We bury this defeat
as one buries a lesson in memory,
heavy but necessary.

And we move forward,
not crushed,
but hardened like the steel of our goalposts.

Thus ends the Hymn of Lamentation.
May it serve as catharsis for the faithful
and as a reminder to the players:
nothing is lost as long as the red-and-blue breath endures.

2447/7500

Hymn of Lamentation for the Defeat against Dallas According to the Tone of Great Collapses and Evenings Without Miracles I — The Opening of the Wounds O Holy Flannel, open our bruised lips so that the heavy song of defeat may rise. For Dallas, in its cold star, struck without mercy our goaltenders, our defenders, even our very confidence. The goals piled up like stones on the back of an exhausted pilgrim. And each poorly-handled rebound rang like a funeral bell in the Temple of the Bell Centre. II — The Analysis of the Shipwreck 1. The Shattered Defense The men of the blue line wandered, slow to pivot, timid in punishment, overwhelmed by Texan speed. Zone exits became orphans, coverage tore apart like an old banner exposed to the wind. 2. The Silent Offense The stick of the Glorious grew heavy, too heavy for creation. Passes died before even reaching their target, as though inspiration itself had deserted the Holy Ice. 3. The Goaltender Alone in the Storm Before the net, the solitude was total. Shots flew — cruel diagonals, deadly rebounds, surgical precision. And even when the glove rose up, it was no longer enough to calm the star-forged tide. III — Invocation of Repentance O beloved Tricolour, we are not ashamed to weep with you. For this defeat is not a betrayal: it is a revelation. A revelation that defensive transition must harden, that structural indiscipline must cease, that the breakout must recover its purity, and that the first pass must once again become an act of faith, not a leap into the void. IV — Hope Despite Everything Let the faithful not tremble: the Church of the Holy Flannel reminds us that every crushing defeat contains the seed of resurrection. For after the night of seven-to-nothing, comes the morning of adjustments. After the debacle, comes the saving video session. After humiliation, comes the strengthening of the group. And often, it is in the worst routs that the strongest future victories are forged. V — The Closing of the Lamentations That the Stars shone brighter tonight does not erase the eternal light of the Holy Flannel. We bury this defeat as one buries a lesson in memory, heavy but necessary. And we move forward, not crushed, but hardened like the steel of our goalposts. Thus ends the Hymn of Lamentation. May it serve as catharsis for the faithful and as a reminder to the players: nothing is lost as long as the red-and-blue breath endures.

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