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Sunday, November 26, 2006

Tough Muck-nov23-2006

Game Report Nov. 23, 2006

Muck 2 Strawbs 1

A first of Brobdignagian proportions occurred last night at the venerable Pete Palangio Arenas. No, Pyjama Man didn’t, for once, show up without his usual yet disturbing selection from his wife’s intimates drawer, and no, Gumby did not remain silently ineloquent when confronted by bad refereeing. And no, “The Torch” did not ramp up his game to the heights it had once reached when he was a pre-novice. What did happen defied all odds and a long streak of precedent. For the second time in this young and unproductive season, the Strawbs were rooted on by a fan, the same fan as two games previous. Missus Butcher Brophey, resplendent in her new red squirrel coat and matching white Go-Go boots, was at the game to cheer on her main man and presumably his donkless teammates. No one really believes she came for the hockey, as extraordinary as the hockey usually is. Rumour rampant in the dressing post-game held that this beautifully misguided and love starved creature had got wind somehow that it was the Killer Strawberries’ Annual Bob Bon Game and Dressing Room Social. Having run out of her own confectionery stash at home, it is believed she showed up for the candy and a chance to invade the Strawbs’ sacred inner sanctum for a peek at manhood in full bloom. And candy she got: most of it eye candy. She was also the surprise winner of a half eaten box of mediocre chocolates. The other half had been picked over after the game by a sorrowful band of Killer Strawberries who found themselves on the short end of a 2-1 match with a squad called Muck.

As the Dressing Room Social wound down and plans were being made for the habitual trip to the Terminal Tavren, Miss Go-Go Boots was asked by an inquisitive Strawb for her impressions of the on-ice performance of her new favourite team. She was quick to point out that Jesse “The Leak” covered his rebounds much better than he had at her last outing, that Freight Train 444 would be better served not taking penalties at the same rate as her boyfriend/husband/candy provider, and that Dr. Thug played more like Dr. Slug, the criticism delivered in such a mellifluous manner that no one took the slightest offence. To the contrary, the aroused Strawbs hung on to her every utterance and prognostication. When questioned where she had acquired her hockey astuteness, Miss Go-Go Boots informed the half-naked throng that she had once captained a group of wayward nymphomaniac truck mechanics somewhere in the vicinity of Buttface, Alaska, which also happens to be the home of the Strawbs’ farm team’s farm team, the Nasty Cupcakes. After ascertaining that her former team, the Pliant Mattress Backs, were no longer in existence, three requests for a voluntary transfer to the Nasty Cupckakes were immediately withdrawn.

At the Terminal Tavren, the team’s greatest fan in history continued to the regale the assembled with tales of her interesting and salty past. The time flew quickly and her

health was toasted often and heartily. Miss Go-Go Boots is now expected to be a fixture at all future Killer Strawberries games.

3 jugs of Guinness, 3 jugs of Keith’s and some lurid, chocolate induced tales were consumed.

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