Killer Strawberries 1 Rams 1
Game Report
November 5, 2012
Record 1-2-1
For the first 3 minutes of last night’s tussle between the
veteran Killer Strawberries and its testomoronic opponents, the Rams, the
Marquis DeSave had to deal with more rubber than a professional Las Vegas streetwalker
on Bill Clinton Day. And like a good, high quality Trojan ribbed tickler, he stretched
but did not break. His strong performance in nets allowed the Strawbs to effectuate
its patented Wall-O-Berries defence until the team could regroup and finally
apply pressure of its own at the other end of the rink.
The Rams scored first as the Butcher and his Corbelian neighbour
from hell, the inimitable Gawdawful Gumby, roiled about in their own end
chasing shadows and ejaculating the latest in swear words learned, no doubt, on
their adventures through the sewers of the internet. Their insipid play
continued for the whole of the match and almost cost the Strawbs a much needed
point. Fortunately, the rest of the squad had come to play, unlike the
bonesprockets from Corbeil who were content to wallow in the narcosis of
mediocracy all night long. The Executive has ordered a Royal Commission to
report on their futures.
Dr. Thug, showing increasing signs of decreasing mental
acuity and fashion sense, showed up to the game with one hockey glove and one
very nice black leather evening glove of the type worn by Prince Philip when he
tours the Arctic. Neither glove was of an adult size. “Just cause the glove
don’t fit, don’t mean I quit” he informed anyone who would listen. Needless to
say, he did not score on the evening, attired as he was in ill fitting
equipment.
The most impressive Strawb, non-sartorially speaking, was
Slickery McMillan. He was a gad-about on the ice, skating harder and with more
purpose than he has in years. Although
he did not score, he was awarded the game’s First Strawberry, a prize which has
eluded him for much too long.
MagBoy, who showed up with three hockey gloves and a jug of something
he called South of The Blueline, tied the game up with just over 10 minutes
left to play. It was a gorgeous solo effort, reminiscent of the antics of another
Strawb, not to be named, who was found in the throes of self-induced ecstasy at
the back of Galaxy Theater #3 on August 10 of this year.
The rest of the Killer Strawberries were solid, playing
excellent defense when necessary but not necessarily excellent defense. The
forwards generated many scoring chances but were unable to convert the tie into
a victory. Extra practice time has been ordered.
After the game, Gumby and the Butcher were verbally
crucified, but in a fair way. Most of the Strawbs showered quickly and returned
immediately to the bosoms of their heated homes. An intrepid foursome sped off
to the Terminal Tavren to squeeze out fu from the last minutes of a long and
rewarding day.
2 Guinness, 4 Hops and Gops and the satisfaction of a well
earned tie were consumed.
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