Spitfires Find Wrong End of The Stick

Spitfires Find Wrong End of The Stick

Strawberries 5 Spitfires 1

Game Report

November 20, 2008


Strengthened by the absence of Butcher Brophey (hip flexor) and Sir Gumby (ego bruise), the Killer Strawberries shot down a squad of belligerent Spitfires by a score of 5-1, thus avenging an earlier loss earlier in the week.

Shiny Sean Brightly was the star of the game, playing 4 or 5 positions simultaneously, offending and defending insouciantly. As the Vice so diplomatically put it, “For a fatter guy than the Ice Marshal, he sure is nimble”.

Dr. Thug, MagBoy and Pyjama Man played with each other as best they ever have, going so far as to continue their triumph with a celebratory communal shower. After tallying up the claims of each of these stalwarts, the final score should have been 19-1, with each of the trio getting an additional 8 assists on the evening: 43 points on 5 official goals, another case of the new math gone terribly awry.

Warrin’ Peace was finally allowed out the house for more than 5 minutes in the last month, accompanied by his parole officer/wife who looked on begrudgingly from the comfort of the lobby. He promptly made his presence felt, swooping and dashing like a new born colt high on alfalfa. It was a good thing he didn’t come out stale because his name had been paired frequently with the word “trade” in the last 2 weeks. Perhaps he was spurred on by the excellent play of his left winger, Archilles Perron who finally broke free of the hockey doldrums to deliver his best on ice performance of the season. He attributed his improved play to the new Yanni CD he has started to play in his car on the way to the arena.

Freight Train and the Vice were veritable monoliths on defence and we’re not just referring to their imposing physiques in this case. They wisely used their bulks to force Spitfires to take the long way around to get to loose pucks. It is estimated that the feckless Spitfire foes skated an additional 4,324 miles on the evening just to get around the physical roadblocks scattered repeatedly in their way. Big can be beautiful.

While the score may suggest a cakewalk, it was anything but. Jesse The Leak was tested and came out on top on numerous occasions. Moreover, the Spitfires, fresh from their recent pre-frontal lobotomies, attempted to intimidate the Strawbs with their constant hacking and slashing and overall poor sportsmanship. Unfortunately, they found out that the Killer Strawberries cannot be frightened by much beyond their wives/girlfriends/mistresses. Whenever a foul was encountered, it was received with a counter-encounter; this usually took the form of an elbow to the head, blade to the scrotum or a nasty verbal rejoinder. On one occasion, near the end of the game, the Ice marshal was the victim of an attempted slew footing. To advise his opponent of his opposition to such a piece of poor sportsmanship, IMW promptly delivered a well placed two hander to the miscreant’s exposed hip flexor. The miscreant, in turn, took offence and charged the normally staid team leader. And what did the upstart get for his troubles? More troubles, in the form of a broken hand suffered while trying to re-arrange the Ice Marshal’s facial features. Unfortunately for the hapless assailant, his fist ran into the the marble block between his victim’s ears. “That’ll teach the little flibbertigibbit” spat the Ice Marshal in voice tainted with equal measures of scorn and triumph.

When the big scoring trio, mentioned above, finally emerged from the shower in dressing room 10, the team raced to catch final call at the Terminal Tavren. Injuries suffered were compared to injuries inflicted, and, continuing with the new math, it was determined that the Spitfires would probably all be dead or still in emerg. by next Tuesday. We are hopeful they have learned not to mess with the Israel of Canadore Intramural Hockey.

7 bottles of Black and Blue, 5 Stella, 3 Keiths, I Guinness and a can of whoopass were consumed.