Strawbs Shine In Pre-Season Action

Game Report

Killer Strawberries 14 F-Word 3

October 16, 2008


Still smarting from last year’s end-of-season brain cramp, this year’s version of the Killer Strawberries came out swinging. Led by a rejuvenated Dr. Thug (rejuvenated in the sense of “no longer pissed before every game”), the squad laid a beating on its feckless foe reminiscent of the second Ali/Frasier slugfest.

It must be admitted that the team iced on Thursday was probably the strongest it has been in a long time. There was no Whoa!horny Richardson to regularly cough up the puck in his own end, Whoa!horny having retired on the advice of his psychotherapist and current wife. There was no Vice, the Vice claiming some woman, not his wife, advised him not to play until at least this week. It is believed to the be first time since his grade 8 graduation that the Dictator By The Lake has taken advice from anyone except one of his other split personalities. There was no Gawdawful Gumby, His Officiousness having decided that he was needed and/or more wanted elsewhere. One of these and/or’s was true. The other was a gross oversestimation of his desirability. Apparently, Sir Gumby will be a farce to be reckoned with this season.

All other Strawberries performed at or above expectation. They played with aplomb, dedication and panache. To further prove their commitment to a team that only has their best interests at heart, the night’s players assembled dutifully at the Terminal Tavren to recount the evening’s heroics, to officially pad their first game statistics and to gleefully cast aspersions upon those less dedicated than they. The Vice came in for some particularly vicious shots, not so much for his whimping out on ice (he “coached” rather than dressed), but moreso for his pusillanimous high-tailing it home immediately following his dubious coaching debut. Expressions like “Scotch swillin’ nambypamby” and “fraidy cat’ were bandied with great gusto and heartily guffawed upon.

At the post game wrapup, Doctor Butcher Brophey gave a stunning lecture entitled “The Trouble With World Financial Markets, The Underlying Causes and Suggested Remedies: An Off-Handed Rumination.” By the time he had finished, the drinking hole was abandoned and the rest of the Strawbs home in bed, dreaming dreams of glory to come.

4 Bud, 6 Kilkenny, 2 Black and Tan, 3 Stella, 4 Guinness, a jug of water, 2 pounds of of wings and some startling macroeconomic claptrap were consumed.