As The Habs Nosedive, The Strawbs Soar

Game Report

Strawbs 10 ALU Warriors 3

February 9, 2009


It is fortunate that the smarter Strawbs have stopped watching the Habs play in recent weeks, as Gumby’s team of underachieving Russsians, Finns, Yanks and Canadian Canadiens continues to spiral toward an ignominious 9th place finish in the Campbell Conference: fortunate because the Strawbs have not picked up the same bad habits which have plagued Les Glorieux since mid-January. Certainly, the Killer Strawberries are proud of the other bad habits they have picked up but thank Gitchigoomi they refuse to emulate the tanking Canadiens.

Last night’s matchup, a 10-2 victory over a stunned ALU squad, brought the Strawbs’ record to 5-1-2 since the new 2009 season began. Much of the consistent good results can be parked at Slickery Mac’s doorstep as he continues the same type of torrid scoring pace he once set in an obscure men’s league in San Francisco in the early 90’s. He has even become a post game regular at the Terminal Tavren, where the wait staff have fondly nicknamed him Handsome or Piss Tank or something or other.

Dr. Thug, his dementia in partial remission, played an excellent game, scoring a beauty on a one man wrecking crew play. After having niftily tucked the puck behind the startled goaltender on a partial breakaway, his inertia propelled him, face first, into the equally startled end boards. He was "with it" enough after his close encounter with concusssion number (n+1)x100 to look back to see what had happened to the puck he left behind. He screamed “Hallelujah” when he noticed the exasperated goaltender fishing out the good Dr.'s deposit from the back of the cage. Another notch for his bedposts or whatever else he notches.

Jesse The Leak made a solid, tail-between-his-legs return to the Strawberries after his disastrous try-out with the Thinkin’ Drinkin’ Stinkins of the now defunct C.R.A.P. hockey league. He made numerous good saves on the evening. He did however forget to carry the Ice Marshal’s equipment to his car after the match, pursuant to the terms of his new(post-Stinkins) contract with his beloved squad.

Butcher Brophey showed up to the arena with a new set of gently used equipment after his old equipment was put into emergency quarantine by the Centre For Disease Control. He picked up the almost spotless equipment at a mid-week yard sale lorded over by the Dictator By The Lake at the Compound For Minor Vice. Apparently, the Vice (aka The Dictator, Rob The Torch etc.) had won a minor lottery somewhere and had used the proceeds to update his old equipment. The equipment was about 5 years old on average but it had nary a scratch, material pull,drop of blood or sweat mark upon it: gently used indeed. And, who knew The Butcher and The Vice had fat asses of the same size and droop.

It was good to see Pyjama Man enter the dressing room 5 seconds before the puck was dropped. He said he would have stayed home but couldn’t get his babysitter to come over. “I knew the Strawbs would need me tonight, and since I hadn’t anything better to do, I brought my girls with me so I could play. I left the car running and they seem to be having fun playing with the lighter.”

Archilles was finally recovered from the horrible blister he has been stoically enduring since the terrible accident he had while drying the dishes at his home. He played poorly on the night but it was good to see him out of his house where unspeakable accidents seem to befall him almost weekly.

The team is struggling to find the right position for Shiny Sean who fancies himself a goal scorer. While he starts all his shifts at defence, he rarely finishes them there. He is forever darting at the opposition’s net, screaming for the puck to be put on his stick. When this inevitably does not occur, he pouts for while, regroups and tries the same stunt again. He is as habitually persistent/hard-headed as Gumby is habitually tardy/soft-headed. Unlike Gumby, however, he does have a goal this year.

And what’s with MagBoy? Again, last night, he slammed himself into the boards, even harder than Dr. Thug had done earlier in the game. It is obvious his skating lessons are not taking. Is he forgetting to take his medication? Are things okay at home? Is his medulla oblongata in a state of disrepair?

And what’s with Freight Train Laronde. There are rumours that he actually has soft hands and some very high tech moves which he uses in the training wheels league he skates in on Wednesdays According to a lowly placed source with new gently used equipment, Laronde can snap the puck into the top corner, through his legs while reciting Byronesque verse. Where is that talent when he plays for the Killer Strawberries? Come on Freight train, show us your stuff. After all, the team’s motto is “Show us your finesse or you get to play defence.”

And what’s with Warrin’ Peace. He continues to rack up his frequent absentee points at an alarming rate. Pretty soon he will be demoted from waterboy to waterwussy.

And finally, what’s with the poetry that has been seeping, like a mangy fox creeping, into an unguarded henhouse on the hill? Well, according to sports psychologist, Ozzie Andharriet, poetry can, if deftly applied, increase performance levels by .08% over the long run ( Note 1). So there.

All in all, the game was an excellent Strawbs outing and helped solidy the team’s grip on first place. To further solidy their grips, most of the players (save for the Vice who had to go home to iron out the wrinkles in his new equipment) ventured out to the Terminal Tavren. Old lies were recounted, new lies freshly minted, and a little Robbie Burns quoted for good measure.

8 Stella, 2 Black and Tan, 3 Guinness, 2 Sterling (huh?), 5 Steamwhistle, one “Hello, Handsome” and some iambic pentameter were consumed.

(1) Dr. Highly Selassie, The Book Of Useful Stats, Dubious Press, 2008