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Thursday, March 12, 2009

Grampas Ganch Gang of Grumpy Gen-Whiners

Game Report

March 9, 2009

Killer Strawberries 7 Redstripes 4

Gawd knows it must be hard to lose to a bunch of geriatric go-getters judiciously seasoned with just the right amount of youth. Just ask the Redstripes, who, despite their excellent trash talk, hormone-fuelled bravado and general sulkiness, were unable to subdue a squad of Killer Strawberries hell-bent on capturing their second crown in 3 years.

The game started out on a difficult note. P. Gumbington Pettigrew the Third, a man of immense self-professed talent and an ego to match, was told he would not be allowed to play because he had neglected to pay off a $20 fine incurred 3 matches previous. It took several shady attempts at truthiness and a last minute intervention by the Pope to get him permission to play. But play he did, leading his team in on-ice treachery, the proffering of dubious advice and endless heartfelt exhortation to anyone who would listen to his incoherent rants.

The team was further handicapped on the evening. Dr. Felonious Thug, unplugged and reeling from a homemade concoction of codeine, morphine and grape Kool-Aid, donned his best Punch Imlach fedora and took over bench duties. He was unable to play on the evening, having once again injured himself in a non-hockey mishap. Apparently, after the last game, he severed a tendon in his right thumb while attempting to operate a TV remote without teenage supervision.

Warrin’ Peace was, for the twentieth time this season, noticeably absent. According to his first and current wife, the gorgeous (pregnant?)Samarra Dessert, Warrin’ could not make the game owing to some prior commitment with his sports psychiatrist, or sports hairstylist or some other sports related human.

None of this, however, was able to knock the Strawbs off the mission they had set for themselves after a devastating playoff loss in March 2008: regain the coveted Canadore Intramural Hockey “D” Cup. To this end, The Killer Strawberries scored often and early in the match, much to the chagrin of the whiny little Redstripes who truly believed they deserved to beat a pile of wizened veterans who were so ripe they still remember firsthand when the Montreal Maroons ruled the hockey world. Magboy led the team in enthusiasm and gusto. This whirling dervish bedeviled the opposition with his energy and flying limbs and actually scored on one of his many breakways/penalty shots.

Freight Train Laronde ratcheted up his game to 1961 levels. He tallied two beauties and even succeeded in making the Ice Marshal look respectable. Shiny Sean was a stalwart, moving between offence and defence with the fluidity, grace and repertoire of a Kama Sutra master.

Not all went smoothly however. The Strawbs were forced to overcome a 7 minute mid-game spurt of brainfartitis, when, leading 4-0, they managed to let the Redstripes re-enter the game. The opposition somehow managed to make the score 4-3 before the Strawbs were pounded back to reality by the quick scores and relentless juvenile Redstripe taunting (the words Grampa, old man, old timer, ancient piece of dog feces etc. were being tossed around like midgets in a dwarf bowling contest). From that point on, the juggernaut, reawakened and angry, kicked it up a notch. The Killer Strawberries revved up their engines, slammed the petal to the metal and grinded their way into passing gear, leaving their rivals grasping for any straw to slow the juggernaut down: all to no avail. Final score: Killer Strawberries 7 Redstripes 4.

The Strawbs now await the victor in Thursday night’s game between the Free Agents and the Redstripes to see who will play them in the Championship. The final is already sold out, and the broadcast blackout has not been lifted. It will be a barn burner.

Following the match, all able minded Strawbs and the 10 others who played, met up at the Terminal Tavren to bulk up and to plot strategy. It can be reported that they succeeded beautifully in one of those endeavours.

4 Stella, 7 Guinness, 3 Black and Tan 2 Blue, 3 Sterling, 5 Steamwhistle, 4 pounds of seasoned wings, a low-fat poutine and some Oil of Juggernaut were consumed.

1 comment:

Rob Greenfield said...

Sufferin' suqatash ... another kick at the can!!!