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By Natasha
- Moe's Tavern Shopper
- Brought to you by victory,
- Which is best celebrated at Nookie's.
- Nookie's: less food than you ordered, more soup than you need.
Like falling off a bicycle...
The coolest thing about Sunday's win was that it didn't seem like that big of a deal. It felt totally normal to play that well, that consistently. We've played strong against the dullest team in hockey before; it was about time we came out with a win.
Nickname that goon
Yes, it's true, I have a nickname for pretty much everyone we play against.
Certain nicknames, like Cute Kelly or Sleevehead, are well-established.
Others I just make up on the fly so I can remember who I'm supposed to be
guarding. The nicknames tend to be based on clothing and appearance (Baldy
who is bald; Muscle Shirt with his muscle shirts). On occasion, as with
Cuddles or Psychotica, they're based on how the person comports themselves
during the game. And some nicknames, such as Kid Kanada or Captain America
(AKA Captain Ball Hog), are a combination of both. So if you hear me referring to "Creepy Jimmy" or "the Buttock of Doom," just go with it.
Personal Growth, the Cuddles Way
Speaking of my favorite sour-faced jerkwad, it seems Cuddles has had some
kind of epiphany during the off-season. I could've sworn I heard him mumble
something suspiciously similar to "nice play" on a couple of occasions.
Could it be that we collectively have mined a nugget of respect from the
depths of his hockey snobbery? Or perhaps it's just that, given his abject
failure to prevent the unwashed masses from breathing his air, he has
resolved to be nicer to us all.
Props! Props!
Well, where should I start? Oh, I know, I'll start with Steve's pretty
second goal. And this has nothing to do with the fact that he just sent out
an e-mail asking me to. Seriously, honey, it was very pretty. Pretty pass,
pretty goal, pretty, pretty, pretty. Also must call attention to Eric's
stellar effort defending the point. They were getting a lot of cheap shots
from back there, so it was important to move them around. And of course my
two fellow fe-moes, Casey and Virginia. That was a very athletic game and
they stayed fresh throughout.
Not props.
I'm not a fan of grumpy Sean. For real. I'm trying to remember the love.
Player of the Game
I'm going with Marty. Marty had a monster game. And I loved the way he
flipped out when he thought Sean gave up the tying goal. Because if I'd
thought it was the tying goal, I would've said the same thing.
After the game...
Steve couldn't join us for tea at Nookie's because he has a girlfriend
(ooooh!). That's a shame, because we had a spare soup for him. And for her.
And for seven other people.
Fuzzy like a kitten!
My memories of the game are a little blurry right now because, in other
news, Larry and I adopted a kitty who is just adorable and full of energy
and -- hey, who knew? -- nocturnal. So me and sleep? We're taking a break
from each other right now.
This week's game
Steve kind of scooped me here, but we're on at 4:00 and we're playing the
BWs. No Virginia, so if you're playing forward and you forget to pinch back
on defense, prepare to encounter the unfriendly half of my ass.
-nj out