March of The Strawberries

Game Report

February 22, 2010

Killer Strawberries 6 Free Agents 1

The playoffs started on this Monday evening, with the Killer Strawberries itching to commence their drive for a third championship in four years. The first obstacle would be the Free Agents, a team that recently tied the Strawbs 6-6 in a hard fought match which featured mental mistakes galore by its glue sniffin’ D.

By game time, the effects of volatile substances may have been cleansed from the defence’s bulbous corporate entity, but something else must have replaced the expunged noxious substances. It is true the number of breakaways allowed fell a little below a baker’s dozen. Yet still, questions remain concerning the commitment to excellence by the squad’s blueliners. Shiny Sean Brightly had just returned on game day morning from some Bacchanalian Blitzkrieg involving the seedier parts of Las Vegas and it was evident that he had unwisely partaken of some overzealous onanistic operations from which he had yet to recover. Hangover? Oh yeah.

While it was not immediately determinable what the hell was effecting his backend teammates, the consequences of their Bropheyesque lifestyles were, at times, shocking. On more than one occasion, both on-ice defencemen could be found behind the other team’s goal line, exchanging witty repartee and vituperative epithets with the back of the goalie’s head. There is a time and a place for cunning linguists and this was not one of them.

To be fair, the forwards, though workmanlike overall, had their share of underachievers. The spelling challenged Pyjama Man, who likes to call himself "Pajama Man", appeared to have had his brains temporarily removed by licentious activities perpetrated on the beaches of Cancun the week before. Dr. Thug continued to suffer from Concussion #4356, a small injury he had sustained at a family reunion on February 12. Apparently he had called an old cousin with whom he had never gotten along a “desiccated old bat with all the charm of a fully wintered dung-slopped barn floor.” Fortunately, it was only the blunt end of a handy axe that he took to the skull before hitting the ground, stunned and unremorseful. He was still exhibiting both those lingering states well into the last period of last night's match.

On the plus side, Monsieur Le Plug was superb, stopping every breakway bestowed upon him by a negligent defence. Bing Crossbah netted two beauties as did the aforesaid Pyjama Man, who had 2 errant clearing passes slide off his equipment into the opposition’s net. MagBoy and somebody else got the other markers.

Post game, the jubilant Strawberries reconvened at the Terminal Tavren to plot the next game’s strategy and to catch the finals of the Olympic Ice Dance competition. With a running commentary from Bootsey MagGirl, the boys were regaled with a Gold medal for Canada and some colourful additions to their vocabularies. They also learned what the term “twizzles”, “fuzzles” and “one more triple Appletini pleesh” meant. The ice dancing performance and its accompanying commentary were so lasciviously explicit that some of the boys had to rush off the men’s room to blush.

4 triple Appletini’s, 4.5 Guinness, 2 Stella, 2 Keith’s White, 4 Bud, 3 Blue, 7 Black and Tan, 4 pounds of chicken wings and many fine new words were consumed.