Stumblefest

Game Report
February 25, 2008

Thrashers 5 Killer Strawberries 4 OT/SO


With the Ice Marshall still out of the lineup and without the services of a discombobulated Gumby and a malingering Butcher Brophey, the Strawbs managed to extend its losing streak to an embarassing all-time high of 3 games. What is unfortunate about the streak extension is the fact that it comes as a playoff loss. To win the coveted Intramural Hockey Crown, the Strawberries will have to win all its remaining games. This is something it can do, provided a little effort is put forward by certain underperforming parties who shall remain nameless (unless, of course, there is another defeat before the end of the season, in which case the slammin’ will be happenin’).

First, let’s deal with the absences. As noted in the previous game report, the Ice Marshall has been in Stockholm. Currently, he finds himself at the tail end of this Swedish trip on which he picked up another humanitarian award. On this game day, he was suffering a much deserved post award hangover. When reached by phone after the match at his hotel on the Hoodaloodagoodastrasse, he was quoted as saying “I’m surprised and disappointed this time. I think I leave the team in good hands and still they mess up. I’ll be cutting my trip short to get this Titanic off the iceberg. Crap…my head hurts. Kate and Ashley, can we get an earlier flight.”

As for Gumby’s absence, there really was no excuse. Apparently he had cut his fingertip on a can of smoked oysters while ice fishing in the nude with the cheerleading squad from Mamma Poon’s School For Misguided Misfits and, consequently, lost a lot of blood; 3 or 4 drops according to some shady but reliable eyewitnesses. Luckily, the Bandaid took and he will, according to his publicist, be gracing the team with his august presence at the next hockey encounter. Even flimsier was the reason proferred by the Butcher to explain his no-show. “My new hot tub was coming in. Miss White Go Go Boots was coming over to help me test it out. You understand, I hope.” No, the team does not understand and steadfastly refuses to understand your self-centeredness. Show up to the next game, you post-pubescent, angst-ridden, testosterone besotted slacker!

Now to the game itself. What a mess. While it is true that the Killer Strawberries peppered the Thrashers goaler with more than 50 shots which it converted to 4 anemic goals, it was the defence who contributed above and beyond to the thrashing. After an opposing team manages to score on an early breakaway, the other team usually adjusts so that such an occurrence does not happen again. Not so with the Strawbs’ defence. As blithely as a crack addict contemplating the beauty of his own genius, the Strawberry defenders refused to change their wayward approach. Time after time, the defencemen, led by a mentally derailed Freight Train, pinched in from the blueline to chase loose pucks behind the opposition’s net. The defencemen were not content to do this crazy, out-of-position digging alone. Like bladder-challenged high school girls at a sock hop skitting off to the bathroom in pairs, the Strawberry defenders made frequent in-tandem forays into territory, far from the spots they should have been in. The culprits, which included The Vice, who should have known better, Shiny Sean Brightly, who should have known better, Whoahorny, who should have known better, and the aforementioned Freight Train, allowed an unprecedented 12 breakaways resulting in 4 goals. One would have guessed that by, say, breakaway #7, a light would have come on. Apparently, there was a power outage in certain helmets.

In their defence, the offence played well, but were plagued with shotus weakus and a very hot goalie. The tottering Dr. Thug, MagBoy, Pyjama Man and Archilles Perron managed to pierce the Thrasher’s armour in a valiant yet insufficient effort. Of the plus 50 shots on net, Archilles had 32 of them, as he was set up repeatedly by the out of position Freight Train Laronde. One hopes Archilles' conversion rate climbs out of the abyss in which it currently languishes. Is everything okay at home, Monsieur Archilles?

To round out the performance appraisal of the forwards, it should be mentioned that Warrin Peace’s contribution was just north of mediocre. He skated like he was carrying Plutonium in a lead valise. He performed thus, even though he was being cheered on by the team’s #1 fan, the bodacious Samara Desert, who showed up to the game in her best squirrel skin jacket, a jacket which Warrin’ made for her in remembrance of their first sock hop together at Wiki High in 1999.

One truly strong point in an otherwise dismal match was the play of the Strawbs' hapless goaltender, Jesse The Leak. He stopped 8 of 12 breakaways and 2 of 3 shootout attempts. “ Man, I sure felt alone out there tonight” he understated. “Was this some kinda test or something? I can’t wait for the Ice Marshall to come back to instill a little discipline, a lot of discipline really. I always knew he was the glue that kept us going.”

After the game, most Strawbs slithered to the Terminal Tavren, their tails firmly ensconced between their legs. While a lot of lamenting accompanied the first round, by round 10, optimism creeped through the door and insinuated itself into all psyches present. Future victories were toasted and the team rededicated itself to winning the Crown which hangs so tantalizingly before its eager grasp.

16 Guinness, 41 Stella, 3 Kilkenny, 2 pounds of chicken wings (seasoned) and some dreams of future glory were consumed.