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Monday, December 17, 2012

Having completed his epic quest, your humble servant, the Butcher is
seen seeking wisdom for the executive, healing for Freight Train's
ankle and a better game plan

Saturday, December 15, 2012

A Commendable Defeat

Killer Strawberries    1    Barn Muckers    7

Game Report

Record:  3-7-3

With most of their team mates serving time as the result a small weekend fete which got slightly out of hand when invited professional workers refused to leave at sunup, the unincarcerated Strawberrian remnants put up a valiant defence in the face of highly talented enemy onslaught. The Barn Muckers, fast, nimble and cocky, were relentless in their pursuit of individual glory. Out the 8 shots allowed by the Strawbs’ patented “Muskox Defence”, only 7 found the back of the net. With a little better goaltending, the score would have been a lot closer.

The Strawbs had a seven man bench and a pretend goalie. By the last period, Freight Train Laronde, a pillar of solid play, had to leave because of a broken ankle sustained while blocking a rocket. He was adamant he would continue to play, a la Bobby Baun, but the team doctors had to order him to the dressing room. Down to 6 skaters, the team dug deep as the gasping noises from the exhausted remains almost peeled the temporary Target wallpaper from the boards. Even though they lost, the Strawbs were, to a man, paragons of courage, determination, grittiness and the je ne sais quoi of je ne sais quoi.

After the game, the team, sans Freight Train who was undergoing self-administered, anaesthetic-free ankle surgery in the parking lot, reconvened at the Terminal Tavren to catch their breaths and to lament a terrible first half to the hockey season. “At least were still playing” commented a philosophical Gawdawful Gumby, “unlike those NHL candy asses who won’t play unless they get their minimum $2 million per game. Whatever happened to playing for the love of the sport? Oh look boys, it’s one of the ladies from last week’s party. See ya!”

44 gallons of Frog’s Butt Ale, 3 pounds of chicken wings, and a lot of free oxygen were consumed.

Wednesday, December 05, 2012

In and Out of Trouble ... Again!

Strawbs win 6-4 against a rambunctious under-manned team of Predators.
Monday night’s game instilled hope in an otherwise deflated Killer Strawberries team. With the return of Marquis de Saviour and Gawdawful Gumby, the football-like scores from the previous weeks were reduced back to wins. One of these two players may or may not have had more of an effect on the outcome, and I’ll leave it to the reader to make his/her own assumptions.
Freight Train Laronde set the bar high even before the game began, dropping his bag in the vacated seat next to the Vice. The reverberating “thud” brought to everyone’s attention the recent void in The Strawbs' once bulletproof executive committee, now being questioned by veterans and recent acquisitions alike. The demotion of Ice Marshal to the Buttface Bottomfeeders after the team’s recent woes is seen as a surprise to some, a no brainer to others, and irony to all, as he receives the short end of the stick.
Butcher Brophy, rumoured to be absent due to a scheduled trip to North Korea after being recognized for his torturing techniques in front of the net, made an appearance at Pete Palangio, and an appearance was about the extent of his contribution to the team Monday night. The bruised legs of the opposing team beg to differ.
The final score was 6-4.
3 pints of Guinness, 2 pitchers of Steamwhistle, 10 pounds of wings, and a sweet and forgotten taste of victory were consumed.

Sunday, December 02, 2012

Looking In The Mirror

Killer Strawberries    4    Casey’s    10

Game Report

November 29, 2013

Record: 3-5-3

Despite the lopsided score of the last night’s game against Casey’s, the Killer Strawberries acquitted themselves well. The squad skated hard, generated numerous scoring opportunities and made its opponents earn their victory. It should be noted that Casey’s is made up almost entirely of Chancre College’s Varsity hockey team. From the Strawbs’ bench, it was like watching a younger, less handsome version of themselves, sort of.

The goaltending was vastly different from end to end. While he played a little better than the Marquis DeSave had in his two most recent outings, the Strawbs’ pickup goalie, tending the pipes for his second consecutive game of the evening, looked tired and more interested in the cold poutine he had placed on the top of his net. Casey’s goalie was stellar, robbing Strawb after Strawb with a quick glove hand or a well placed skate, or so contended Dr. Thug. Perhaps it was the Oxycontin talking.

The best play of the night belonged to Dr. Bonehead Butcher Brophey, a competitor so fierce, he once gnawed off half his own ass to streamline his body for more speed... unsuccessfully, of course. As an unsuspecting Caseyer came screaming down the ice, one on one, the luckless speedster attempted to beat the Butcher to his right. The attacker did not properly anticipate the well-placed hip which sent him flipping to the rafters and the Butcher to the Personality Box. The Strawbs captain asked the referee to increase the penalty to 6 minutes to mark the splendour of Dr. Brophey’s achievement.

Although he specifically asked this reporter not to mention it, the Ice Martian scored two goals and had one denied because of poor referee placement. "It's a team game" saideth the IM. "Wish we had one."

After the game, the squad reassembled at the Terminal Tavren to fete the Butcher and to decide whether to recall its hapless goaltender, now languishing in Buttface, Alaska. The Executive has reserved judgment.

4 Hops and Bolts, 5 Steamwhistle, 2 Guinness, 2 Granville somethings, 7 pounds of soggy wings, a large flying saucer of nachos and memories of youthful speed and dexterity were consumed.