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Tuesday, November 06, 2012


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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