🥅 Elbows Up and Over the Boards! 🍁

When a golden-feathered bully tries to take over the forest rink, only Charlie the Goat can rally the team with grit, grace, and a chant the whole North can cheer. A story about standing tall, skating fair, and playing from the heart.

Forest Moss (c) 2025

Elbows Up

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Up in the North where the maple winds sing,

Lies a frozen-wide rink like a crown in a ring.

On ice etched by time and the glide of a blade,

Are stories that shimmer and never will fade.

Then came Charlie the Goat—gritty, clever, and bold—

With a scarf wrapped tight in the biting winter cold.

His helmet was crooked, his laces were fried,

But his game face was fierce and his glide dignified.

He didn’t wear logos or jerseys that bragged—

He dashed past the moose with his stick fully flagged.

Then one frosty morning, a sound split the trees—

A squawk on the wind, like a bossy old breeze.

From the South swooped a swirl of feathers and fog,

He strutted and squawked like a showboating hog.

It was Gangster the Eagle, in glittery gold,

With six fake medals and a smirk icy-cold.

He bellowed through branches with a brag-heavy streak,

But all fluff, no feathers—no bite in his beak.

“I’m claiming this rink!” the Gangster did roar,“

With stickers, and slogans, and rights to the door!

I’ll trademark your goals—and put logos on fun!

By the time you eat lunch, the whole deal will be done.”

He puffed like a billboard, all glitter and gleam,

With logos on feathers and slogans that scream.

Charlie just stared with a blink and a grin,

"That bird's all show, and he's bluffing again.”

He tugged on his laces, stood tall in the chill—

"Let’s give him a game that’ll test all his skill.”

He glanced at his skates—frayed, faithful, and bold,

Then nodded to teammates, all steady and cold.

The forest was watching, the moment was near,

But Charlie stood tall, with no hint of fear.

“Elbows up!” shouted Charlie, his voice firm and bright.“

We pass with precision and skate for what’s right!

He can flex and he squawk, but this rink isn’t bought—

So come on, my teammates—show him what we’ve got!”

The bench came alive with a thump and a clatter,

Porcupines bounced with their quills in a scatter.

Badgers went chomping, the raccoons went zipping,

Maple the Goose flapped in fast with wings flipping.

The moose wore a helmet that covered one eye,

And hummed hockey anthems with a maple-syrup sigh.

The squirrels swung sticks with a mischievous gleam,

Their tails swished like banners in a fast-moving dream.

Then out skated Ref Talon, stern in mid-air,

With feathers like armor and a referee’s glare.

He blew on his whistle—it whooshed with great might,

Like fireworks flashing in shimmering flight.

He pointed one claw and declared from the brink:“

Play fair, or I’ll bench you with barely a blink!”

The puck hit the ice—and the chaos began.

Gangster spun forward and barked out a plan.

“I’ve got this,” he cackled, “They’re skating on toast!”

Then slipped on his cape and crashed into the post.

The forest stood stunned—was that part of his play?

“Is he dancing? Or tangled? Or skating away?”

Gangster, undeterred, with a sneer in his eye,

Said, “This game’s not over—I’ll give cheat a try!”

I’ll razzle and dazzle, I’ll glitter their gaze,

And steal all the cheers and bask in the praise!”

He swapped out the puck with a glittery trick,

But Ref Talon just squawked and saw through it quick—

“That puck’s full of sparkle—and fake to the core,

But we’ll beat you with passes and even the score!”

“You tried to outshine us with sparkle and schemes,”

“But we play with teamwork, not glittery dreams.”

Then Charlie took charge with a flick and a glide,

His heart beat like thunder, his fears pushed aside.

He zipped past a pine cone, then spun with a smirk,

And fired the puck with a slapshot that worked!

It zinged through the air like a snowball of fate—

Straight into the net at an unstoppable rate!

Gangster flapped wildly and shouted, “Unfair!

That goat used a spin—and messed up my hair!

”They cheated, I’m sure—there’s no way they could win!”

But he slipped on his feathers and fell on his chin.

The crowd burst in cheers, in stomps, and in song,

While Gangster flopped backward—his glitter all wrong.

Gangster spun wildly, his feathers all crossed,

“You messed up my cape—that’s why I just lost!”

The raccoons just howled, “There’s no place to hide—

”So flap back south with your fake sponsor pride!”

ELBOWS UP and OVER THE BOARDS!

We play with our hearts—not egos or swords!

We pass, we protect, we skate with our kin,

We cheer when we lose, and we don’t fake a win!

BOO to the bluster, the brag, and the bluff!

The rink isn’t ruled by your gold-plated fluff.

So skate south, old squawker, if cheating’s your creed—

This forest runs fair, on skill—not on greed!

Then Charlie returned with a wink and a hop,

Sharing warm cocoa with whipped cream on top.

“Elbows up, friends—we don’t need to boast.

We lift one another when it matters the most.”

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💡 Did You Know?

In real life, teams that work together often beat stronger opponents who only think about themselves. In business, sports, and even countries, cooperation is a powerful advantage — it helps share resources, build trust, and achieve goals that one player alone could never reach!

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✍️ Why I Wrote This

I wrote this fable because the idea that Canada should be treated like the "51st state"—or strong-armed into someone else’s game—goes against everything I believe about respect, fairness, and sovereignty.

Charlie the Goat vs. Gangster the Eagle may take place on a frozen forest rink, but it’s really about something deeper: what it means to stand your ground with quiet courage when faced with brashness, bluff, and bullying from beyond your borders.

Gangster the Eagle is a character built on glitter and ego. He swaggers in from the South with slogans, schemes, and fake medals—ready to trademark fun and turn fair play into a spectacle. But Charlie the Goat doesn’t need sparkle. He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t cheat. He just plays with grit, grace, and a deep sense of homegrown pride.

This fable is my way of pushing back—against political bluster that treats allies like assets, against false claims of ownership, and against any notion that Canada or its values can be bought, branded, or bullied into submission.

It’s a love letter to fairness, to hockey, and to those who quietly lead with action instead of arrogance. Because in the end, the ice remembers who skates with heart—and who slips on their own glitter.

Forest Moss