Composed by Stan Rogers | © Fogarty’s Cove Music
It was just like strapping ’em on and starting again
Coaching these kids to the top, and calling them men
I was a third round pick in the NHL
And that’s three years of living in hell
And going up flying, and going home dying
My life was over the boards and playing the game
And every day checking the papers and finding my name
My dad would go crazy when the scouts would call
He’d tell me that I’d have it all
Ninety nine of us trying, only one of us flying
And every kid over the boards listens for the sound
The roar of the crowd is their ticket for finally leaving this town
To be just one more hopeful in the Junior A
Dreaming of that miracle play
And going up flying, going home dying
I tell them to think of the play and not of the fame
If they’ve got any future at all, it’s not in the game
‘Cause they’ll be crippled and starting all over again
Selling on commission and remembering
When they were flying, remembering dying
And every kid over the boards listens for the sound
The roar of the crowd is their ticket for finally leaving this town
To be just one more hopeful in the Junior A
Dreaming of that miracle play
And going up flying, going home dying