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By Natasha
- Moe's Tavern Shopper
- The Defiantly Unshushed Edition
- Brought to you by Marty
- Marty: “I will not be shushed.”
Shell-shocked
I'm not sure I want to talk about Sunday's game. Hockey is is supposed to be a refuge from all the things in my life that sadden and frustrate me. It's not supposed to be one of the things that sadden and frustrate me. Sunday's game was awful. It was disturbing. It was as if someone left a turd in my bathtub.
Gob-smacked
I don't want to waste much time on the other team, either. I remember someone saying as we were walking to our cars that they hate most of the other teams we play. It was either Steve or Marty. Sorry, lads, sometimes when I'm feeling down in the mouth, the two of you sort of blend together in my head. I call you “Smarty,” unless I disagree with you, in which case I call you “Meve.”
Anyway, Smarty said that he hates most of the other teams we play and while I agree in principle, I think there's a difference here. I've spend a lot of time in this column thinking up creative ways to insult the other teams, but I've also made the point that I think they are for the most part fair. I'd rather eat a bowl of freshly steamed wallpaper than spend two minutes listening to Cuddles whine, but I don't have a problem with the way he plays.
The team we faced on Sunday was different. They were horrid and they cheated and then they had the audacity to tell us we should just shut up and play hockey. It was as if they left a turd in my bathtub and then said, “What? It's a bowl of water in the bathroom; why shouldn't I take a crap in it?” People like that have no business playing in this league.
Putting it in perspective
I was talking to my friend Matt (shh... different Matt; don't tell Gamewell...) about this game and how uncouth the other team was. He was all, “that's nothing. I got my wrist broken once in a Christian youth league game and then they threw me out for swearing at the guy.”
Tiny bright spot of the game
On one of the faces-offs at center court someone asked about time. Al looked at his watch and said, “four minutes.” Like, ten seconds later, Terry up and yells, “five minutes everyone! Five minutes!” Al got this look on his face that was absolutely priceless. It was half, “what the hell is he talking about?” and half, “oh, whatever.” He also made this hilarious gesture, like he started to shrug and then figured, screw it.
When a tie feels like a victory
I was really happy with the fact that we didn't cave on Sunday. We were short-handed and unwittingly playing the 1974 Philadelphia Flyers, but we hung in there. Just imagine if they hadn't cross-checked on almost every play, we would've handed them their asses.
Next week's game
We're on at 1:00 and if I'm not mistaken, we'll have our pants charmed off by the charismatic players of Team Snotty Buttwipe. Wouldn't it be fun if we were at full strength this week?
-nj out