Killer Strawberries 7 Aviation Invasion 1
Game Report
January 12, 2012
Record-Revised 7-2-2
There are usually many reasons for victory (and usually many, many more for defeat). Let’s start with the obvious ones for victory: the injuries and the no-shows.
The Vice was absent due to a recurring drinking injury involving his left elbow. This past Christmas season has been especially hard on him, what with never-ending visits by the likes Jim Is-so and by The Gumby and his ilk. It did not help either that the Vice lives in way-too-close proximity to the Ice Marshal’s liquor cabinet. Fortunately, The Vice has fashioned a rather advanced machine to aid him with his heavy lifting. His calls this aid (aide?) Marsha.
Dash Headlong failed to appear as well. Apparently, he is still being feted with a two month long revelry in his hometown, which revelry is commemorating his first goal as a Strawb, scored sometime around December 6, 2011. Come back, Sir, the team needs you. Bring beer.
To round out the missing, let’s not forget Dr. Butcher Brophey who is the only human ever to have circumcised himself with a hockey stick just to know how it must feel to be his opponent in an unsupervised corner. According to the team’s spies and procurers, the good doctor was delivering some kind of sermon or address to his local church on the topic of Self-Forgiveness. Wethinks he may have been in over his head. According to his paramour, the lovely and talented Miss White Go-Go Boots, a frequent overnight guest at his dacha on One Mile Drive (a gross misnomer), he could not make the game because he had burst like an overstuffed horsehair couch after Christmas dinner. The team’s upholsterer expects the Butcher to be soon recovered.
Now to the game itself. The line of Mayor Maynot, Lil Wagner and the Ice Marshal were devastating. Their passes were smoother and more frequent that the White House Clintons and they scored more often. On one shift early in the game, they pounded in three markers in under two minutes before removing themselves to the bench for a well-deserved breather. They scored many more times and could have had even more goals had Lil Wagner not repeatedly mistaken the back boards for the back of the net.
The line of Dr. Thug, Pyjama Man and MagBoy were almost as good as the top line. Enough said about them. No use dwelling on second best.
On defence, a neutral observer would have thought the squad had been involved in some kind of holiday blockbuster trade to bolster its blueline. The observer would have been correct in his observation but wrong in his rationale. The D did step up to previously unseen heights. Freight Train Laronde was a mountain of solidity and flawless execution at both ends of the rink. Shiny Shone Brightly, eager to add to his offensiveness, was often in on the play, just missing a few solid chances but capitalizing on others. His second goal was a thing of beauty. He rang the rubber biscuit off the interior upper middle post so hard that the ringing can still be heard in Butthole, Alaska. What a beauty!
The Gumby not only Gumbied, he meta-Gumbied by completing his first ever “Gumby Hat Trick”: a real goal, a questionable penalty and well-played unsportsmanlike misconduct. Bravo Sir Gumby, your pitiful life now has some meaning.
Between the pipes, the Marquis DeSave displayed his routine adequacy. He may have faced only one shot but he did get his glove on a bit of it before the puck trickled into his cage with all the energy of a drunken co-ed peeing her pants on New Year’s Day morning.
After the match, 20 good elbows braved the snow filled roads to be insulted by their favourite perky barmaid at the Terminal Tavren. Poppy Creeme greeted her Thursday night men with cold suds and a warm heart, always at the ready with a few bon mots and a gentle gibe to keep the conversation lively.
3 Steamwhistle, 2 Muskoka Cream Ale, 7 Guinness, 3 gallons of unfiltered water, and most-assuredly-not-the last retelling of the Gumby Hat Trick Caper were consumed.
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Sunday, January 15, 2012
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1 comment:
A Gumby misconduct, say it ain't so.
The Vice
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