Frolic With Canines Ends

Killer Strawberries 14 Titans 3
Game Report
February 28, 2008


After having lost an unprecedented 3 games in a row, one of them an important playoff match, the Killer Strawberries finally managed to end its ugly frolic with canines by administering a perfervid paddling to the collective posterior of a perplexed Titan squad.

The astute coaching staff, intent on the future replication of the effort which culminated in last night’s victory, has compiled a list of potential reasons for the Strawbs’ just-in-time return to hockey excellence. The reasons are in no particular order, since disorderliness seems to be the one common factor which characterizes every Strawberry’s normal on-ice performance.

Last night marked the first time all season that the lowly papparazzi, which, in the past, had mercilessly plagued this team of too handsome specimens, was allowed to penetrate the squad’s pre-game inner sanctum. Fresh from pestering the horde of pantyless poseurs parading about Hollywood, Mister Davidson FKIA the Third, heir to the throne of Frog Hollow, weaved his voyeuristic magic in the dressing room, capturing the photographic essence of more than one startled Strawberry. He continued his superb work from various vantage points around the rink, with his best action shots coming from his unlikely perch high in the arena bar. The Killer Strawberries seemed to flourish under the attention lavished upon them by the talented Davidson, so much so that, at times, the referees had to stop the game so that some of the more vain could comb their hair and straighten their stockings before being photographed. Due to the tremendous success of his efforts, Mister FKIA has been appointed Official Team Photographer To The Killer Strawberries, a position which ensures he will be invited to all team and executive functions, including the Annual Mazzola Appreciation Day held each August 30th at the Aloha Baby Compound in Oahu, Hawaii. (Provided of course he passes the requisite physical).

He has been absent for most of the season, what with his terrible struggles with nicotine, cheap Scotch, cheaper wine, a mysterious lung fungus, an unhealthy devotion to the Toronto Maple Leafs and his inane propensity for slamming his skull into objects harder than Krytonite. Dr. Thug finally emerged from his stupor to contribute meaningfully to the victory. He amassed an all-time team record 6 assists and possibly a goal or two. Because there was no league-sanctioned paper trail for the match, the team had to rely on his unquestionable integrity and extremely poor memory in order to confirm his remarkable performance. Just to be safe, the squad’s official statiscian rounded down Dr. Thug’s assist claim from 14 to 6 but did not tamper with his self-reported 2 goal tally. “I really did get 14 assists” he peevishly declared. “I assisted twice on each of my own goals alone.” Apparently, he is using the New Math to stroke his own ego.

Bonehead Butcher Brophey also emerged as a force to be reckoned with. Tired of lollygagging at home alone in his new Four Chicks-One Guy hot tub, allegedly in an effort to speed the healing to a shoulder he claims to have separated in 18 places, the team’s surgeon played like a pony snorting his first scent barnyard pheremone. His pugnacious play was greatly welcomed, as he continued to slash, hack, chop, carve and mutilate his way further into the Canadore Intramural Hockey League record books. It his hoped we have not seen the last of his awe inspiring outings.

The rest of the scoring was evenly spread out. Somebody got one and so did another few somebodies. It was unimously agreed that the most beautiful goal of the evening was notched by the Ice Marshall who had landed at Jack Garland Airport in North Bay only an hour before game time. Unshowered, unshaven and unmodest, IMW was whisked to the arena in a private limo driven by Miss White Go Go Boots herself who is seeking to supplement her unreported income with legitimate revenue. After paying her in both modes, IMW quickly dressed and was ready to go by the second shift. On this second shift, he skulked about the opposition’s blue line until he was spotted by the eagle-eyed Shiny. Shiny laid out a beautiful stretch pass which caught IMW in full stride, 3 metres behind the closest defender. Made stupid with an unwelcome surge of testosterone, epinephrine and seritonin, IMW did his best “deer on slippery ice” imitation, tripped over the blue line and careened, full speed ahead, into the oppostion’s goal, sending the net and a frightened goaltender through the back of the boards and into the parking lot. Because he had presciently lodged the puck into the small opening between his skate blade and his hockey boot only a moment before crossing the goal line, the goal was allowed to stand. Unfortunately, Mister Davidson FKIA the Third did not get any photos of the goal. He claimed later that he had run out of digital film for his digital camera. What a liar!

Post-game, the team, minus Whoahorny, Archilles and Jesse The Leak, each of whom were told earlier by their wives/girlfriends to be home right after the match, re-assembled at the Terminal Tavren to celebrate the occasion. Dr. Thug’s record was toasted, Samara Desert complimented on her new front teeth, and Mister FKIA’s camera stolen. A good time was had by all.

5 Stella, 4 Kilkenny, 4 Bud Light, 2 nice Bass, 4 pounds of chicken wings, 17 Guinness and 1 Guinness Book of Strawberry Records were consumed.