Melodramatic Misfortune Mars Marr’s Merriment

Bison 4 Swindon Wildcats 0

24/2/18

We have reached the stage of the league season where every game is a must win, if Bison are to snatch the NIHL Britton Division champions’ pennant. Last night’s game was won in what proved a power play paradise for the homesters who bagged 3 goals in 5 power plays, compared with 0 for 7 for the visitors. It was a night of bizarre officiating including an icing call against Bison on a power play kill. Eh? The less said about all that the better. Let’s just celebrate a good performance and a good win against one of the better teams in the league and a potential title chasing banana skin unslipped up on. How will the title race unfold? We will see.

The game opened. We will not dwell long in P1, except to say that the Cats had the better of it with Bison playing short handed on three occasions and the period being littered with a plethora of myopic officiating.

Let us move into P2. On 22:55 up went the Referee Matthews’s hands and adopted a position which made it look as if he was performing the Indian rope trick (see below). But he wasn’t. He was merely indicating that Neil Liddiard was guilty of a high stick crime. Up the river went Liddiard for what he thought was to be a 2 minute stretch in the penalty box. But his expectations proved a soupçon wide of the mark, as I shall relate, dear reader.

Within 5 seconds of the commencement of the Liddiard porridge, Bison surged into the lead. I thought it was 4 seconds actually, but when I sought to consult the game sheet posted on the EIHA web site I accidentally left out the “I” from my Google search and ended up on the European Hermatology Association web site, where unsurprisingly I could find no mention of the game. 4 seconds, 5 seconds – we’re splitting hairs here. What happened? Desperate Dan Davies won the face off and the puck fell to Rabbit’s Foot Joe Baird. His shot was deflected up into the air by goaltender Renny Marr, who had no idea where the puck had gone and rapidly turned his head left and right in a desperate attempt to locate the biscuit. Where he didn’t look, however, was up. This proved to be his undoing, because the puck was indeed up and then came down, as all thing which go up must do (Sir Isaac Newton will confirm that if you have any doubts), and there on the doorstep was Aaron “Billy” Connolly to squeeze the puck past the astonished netman. 1-0 Bison.

After a nervous P1, during which Bison were outshot by 12-3, it was clear that the goal had given the players a pile of confidence with a cherry on top. At 1-0 to the bad the Cats had to keep it tight and avoid errors. They failed. The aforementioned villain of the piece, Liddiard, a crowd favourite pantomime villain wherever he plays, was at fault when he gave away the puck to Ryan Sutton, which, bearing in mind Sutton’s growing reputation as a clutch player having bagged 3 goals last weekend including a minute to go winner against the Raiders last Sunday, could be considered a trifle unwise and certainly an action which most would wish to avoid at all costs, which Liddiard didn’t. Sutton received the gift, which might just as well have been tied with a ribbon with a pretty bow on top and a tag saying “To Ryan from Neil”, and set off in a netwards direction. His forward movement could not be described as tardy, unhurried or plodding, but more as animated, mercurial and sprightly. The dispossessed Liddiard could pursue him only with the speed and grace of an incontinent kangaroo and had no hope of catching him. Sutton bore done on Marr and then unleashed one of his characteristic lethal wrist shots across the face of the hapless goaltender towards the far corner. Marr extended his glove down low and shut it. He thought he had scooped up the puck. However, he was wallowing in a sea of misplaced misconception. The “save” remained something which hadn’t happened. The puck slid across the line in a manner most velocious. 2-0 Bison.

Bison had not finished. They surged into a 3-0 lead with yet another power play goal on 30:14. Floyd Taylor, not to be confused with Pretty Boy Floyd or Dennis Taylor, who are personages completely different, was thrown in the can for a hook. The Bison backers were ever hopeful. Their team’s last power play opportunity has yielded a score within 5 seconds, a fact which members of the European Hermatology Association will remain blissfully unaware. The assembled Bisoneers had to wait 11 seconds this time, which, by comparison, seemed as long as long as it would take to read “War and Peace”. The Antonov twins set up Tomas Karpov for a shot, which was saved by Marr only for an all alone at the back door Desperate Dan Davies to slot home the rebounded rubber. 3-0 Bison.

That was it. Coach Nell had seen enough. Marr had faced 5 on goal shots in the period and 3 of them had gone in. The hapless goaltender was dragged kicking and screaming form the net, departing from the ice with a chunderous save percentage of 62.5% for the game and an even worse one of 40% for the period. Ooo Betty. His replacement was Matt Smital. Alas for the Cats the goaltender change prove to be too smital too late.

There were no more goals in P2 and the period ending buzzer blared forth with the clock showing 0:00 in time and 3-0 in score. It had been a most satisfactory period for the homesters prosperously profiting from pulsating purple power plays. 2 successful 5 on 4s and 3 goals from 8 shots, not to mention forcing the departure of the starting netminder in a swirling quagmire of embarrassment for the poor fellow. But he will return reinvigorated and imbued with fresh confidence to fight another day I am sure.

Into P3 we passed and the Cats needed to elevate their game, stay out of the box or, if not able to do so, make sure they snuffed out the Bison power play. They certainly played better than in P2, but, much to the chagrin of the visiting fans, they fell short of what was required to satisfy the other requirements outlined in the previous sentence. Eh? They conceded another power play goal and at 0-4 to the bad it was not a case of “Good morning Vietnam”, but more one of “Goodnight Vienna”. On 53:11 Floyd Taylor was called for tripping and had his collar felt. This was his second penalty of the game. He seemed to be spending more time in the slammer than Great Train Robber Ronnie Biggs spent in Wandsworth Prison (that's it below). His first incarceration cost his team a goal and so did his second. Dashed bad luck I’d say.

On this occasion Bison looked like slackers. It has taken them 5 and 11 seconds respectively to score their previous power play goals. On this 5 on 4 it took a comparatively monumentally lengthy 44 seconds to advance the score board. Sutton set up Malinik for a wrist shot from away to the goaltender’s right. Smital saved the shot, but, when the puck deflected to General Grant Rounding at the back door, he, the aforementioned netman, was so far out of his goal facing Malinikwards, that he had left an open net as empty as the chicken ‘fridge at a KFC outlet. Rounding rounded off the move. It was an easy tap in for the biltong chewing South African. 4-0 Bison.

The Cats’ chances of winning the game now seemed as dead as Reinhardt Schwimmer on February 14th 1929. (Who? See footnote). And so it proved. There was no more scoring in the game and the final buzzer sounded to confirm it was game over.

All that remained was the election of the Top Bananas. Cats’ Chris Jones carried off the Cats’ accolade and Dean Skinns with his 5^th league shut out of the season was elected top Bison.

Footnote : Reinhardt Schwimmer was an unfortunate optician who happened to be hanging around with 6 members of the Bugs Moran gang when Al Capone’s hitmen, dressed as police officers, marched in and machine gunned the lot of them. It was the St Valentine’s Day Massacre, of course. Schwimmer had done his last eye test.

P3 Aberration Spells Curtains for the Bumblers

Bison 5 Bracknell Bees 2

17/2/18

Lazarus were you there last night at Planet Ice? You should have been because you would have witnessed yet another outrageous revival from a losing position by Bison to show they are much better at coming back from the dead than you. They have now done it twice in the space of 3 home matches. You only did it once. Their recovery from a position of doom was admittedly helped by the bumbling Bracknell Bees, who bungled, blooped, botched and boo-boo-ed their way to a blunderous beating. However, they did start well, very well in fact, as I shall relate.

The visitors took the lead on 3:18. Carl Thompson fired the puck netwardsly from the point and there in front of goal was Josh Martin, who lifted the puck over netman Dean Skinns’s shoulder 1-0 Bees.

Not content with a 1-0 lead, the Bees advanced to a 2-0 lead with a delayed penalty goal on 11:52 courtesy of the ever popular Frankie Bakrlik and it has to be said it was a coaching manual lesson on how to breakaway and take your chance, although, having said that, I didn’t see Bakrlik waving a manual as he latched onto a pass from Shaun “The Sheep” Thompson and hammered forward as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t have got to goal faster if he’d caught a bus, but he always seemed to be at full stretch and not quite in complete control. That mattered not a jot as he took the puck wide and then extended his proboscis to jab the puck behind Skinns and over the line. 2-0 Bees.

The dastardly pessimists amongst the Bison crowd now descended into a state of melancholy hopelessness as they wallowed in their own cess pool of defeatism, depression, dejection and despondency, giving rise to head aches, flatulence and even dyspepsia for those poor unfortunates. To them Bison’s chances of winning the game now seemed as dead as Billy Clanton and Tom and Frank McLaury on October 26th 1881. (Who? Well if you don’t know you’ll have to Google Wyatt Earp and the gunfight at the OK Corral). Their team faced a challenge, for sure, and they rose to that challenge 2 minutes later, making it a one goal game, notwithstanding that three goals had been scored. Kurt “The Scissors” Reynolds supplied the puck to General Grant Rounding just inside the blue line. His cross ice pass found Ryan Sutton. Members of the insectile D were nowhere to be seen at this juncture. They had made themselves scarce as if on the run from the Old Bill. Sutton, who incidentally is not from Sutton, had time to pick his spot and whip a vicious wrist shot past a despairing Bees’ netman, Alex Mettam. The net bulged and Referee Boardman’s hand became flat and pointed netwardsly. 2-1 Bees

There was no more scoring in the period nor in P2, so I will dwell no further on those scoreless durations of play. Instead we will move forward to the start of P3 when the game was turned on its head and the pessimists heretofore mentioned were now heard to utter “I never doubted you” in a Private Fraser-esque fashion.

As P3 opened it looked as if it was going to be an uphill struggle for Bison if they were going to get the win they desperately needed. No-one could possibly have predicted what was to unfold. Not Nostradamus, not Mystic Jo, not even Paul the physic octopus from the 2010 football World Cup (that's him below). Within 2:15 of the restart Bison bagged not one, not two, but three goals to surge into a 4-2 and leave the Bees reeling like a punch drunk boxer who had just consumed a yard of brandy and smoked a couple of spliffs and then been hit on the head with a baseball bat. The visitors sure managed to bollix it up. (Yes that is a real word and not an invention of mine and certainly not one of testicular derivation. By all means look it up).

The levelling score came within a mere 28 seconds of the restart and it was a masterpiece of skating, movement and stick handling from Roman Malinik. His quicksilver movement outstripped the leaden legged Bees’ D as he cut through. Bison’s mercurial golden boy had created for himself a chrome plated opportunity with brass knobs on thanks to his iron resolve. He steeled himself for the shot. In it came, but Mettam proved equal to it. Alas for the follically challenged netman the puck went straight to Sutton who put it in. 2-2.

29 seconds later it was 3-2. The Antonov twins sent Tomas Karpov on his way. He carved his way through and let one go. Mettam got a piece of it, but, alas for the luxuriantly bearded, but follically challenged custodian of the Bees’ net, a piece not big enough. The puck squirted through him and slid over the line. On came the goal light, up went Bison arms, out came the Boardman flat pointy hand. It was 3-2 Bison.

Not content with a solitary goal lead, Bison surged even further ahead on 42:15 with a goal of some spectacularity. Once again the coaching manual was out as Rounding and Malinik showed the Bees how to execute a 2 on 1. Sutton sent Malinik on his way with Rounding in support and a solitary D man to cover both. The trio surged forward (backward as far as the D-man was concerned). Malinik squared to Rounding, who passed it back to Malinik and there, created by such rapid movement and passing, was a massive expanse of open net, into which the Czech chap drove his snap shot. 4-2 Bison.

There must have been some patrons who missed all 3 goals, whilst waiting in the food queue. I miss the occasional goal, but that doesn’t prevent me from confidently describing how the goal was scored in these humble accounts, but then you don’t read these reports expecting accuracy do you, dear reader? But to miss 3 goals? Was that Planet Ice tepid and unappetising hot dog worth it?

It had taken Bison 2:15 of the 3^rd to surge past the hapless Bees with 3 bonzer goals. The visitors were not having a G’day. A time out was called by a frantic Bees bench. We couldn’t hear what was being said, but it couldn’t have been complimentary. The Bees had got off to a bad start in P3 and certainly off on the wrong foot. They had been caught off the pace, off limits and off guard. No time off for good behaviour for them. Bison were not easing off. Coach Spearing must have gone off his rockers and off out of it as he chewed his team’s collective ear off.

Despite the aural assault and much as they may have tried, the Bees could make no impression on the homesters. In fact their game descended to basement level, as they copped 4 x 2 minute minors and 2 x 10 misconducts and found themselves restricted to a mere 3 shots on the Bison net for the whole period. Everything kicked off on 54 minutes, as Danny Ingoldsby threw his stick to the ice and dropped his gloves indicating he wished to engage in pugilistic activities with Rounding. The latter merely skated off and rejoined the game which was still in progress, leaving Ingoldsby thinking “what do I do now?” It was a moment possessing great comedic value, notwithstanding that I am sure Ingoldsby failed to appreciate the jocularity of the moment. Soon after the game was stopped as ugly scenes developed and penalties were doled out.

Eventually the Bees were in the last chance saloon and pulled Mettam from the ice. An empty net shot from I know not who slid agonisingly slowly towards the line and was swept away by a frantically back skating Harvey Stead with a matter of inches to spare. He needn’t have bothered as seconds later the Antonov twins found Rounding with only one D-man to beat. He jumped past the hapless fellow like a springbok in full flight (OK perhaps not quite in the manner shown below) and fired the puck into the empty net, much I am sure to the chagrin of his would be assailant Ingoldsby. Blistering biltong! 5-2 Bison and curtains for the Bees.

Top bananas were elected. Josh Martin, who had scored a goal and put himself about a bit, bagged the Bees’ beers and Ryan Sutton, with a 2+1 evening was adjudged Bison’s finest fellow.

Bison Teach the Phantoms How to Come Back From the Dead

Bison 4 Peterborough Phantoms 3

3/2/18

In “Total Eclipse of the Heart” Bonnie Tyler (that's her below) sang “Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart”. What we saw at Planet Ice last night was just that, not a falling in love, but a falling apart, as the Peterborough Phantoms put in a nightmare P3 shift and managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Cruising at 2-0, having restricted Bison to only 12 shots on goal in the first 40 minutes of play, the visitors managed to throw the game away with a chunderous defensive display in P3, which saw them concede 4. It turned into a Jumping-Jehosophat-on-a-pogo-stick evening for the Bison backers. I cannot remember seeing similar scenes of jubilation at the end of a game since Bison won the EPL title. But I have jumped ahead. There is much to report, so, with your leave, dear reader, I shall attempt to describe the extraordinary events of last night in the following humble account.

P1 opened. There were no goals. P1 closed. No point saying any more than that.

P2 opened and it was to be a period which belonged to the Phantoms. So much so that by the end of the period a feeling of glass-half-emptyism had engulfed the Bison crowd. It was a must win game, preferably in regulation time to deny the visitors a point, but that scenario seemed as unlikely as the Bearded Rabble Rouser of Block A riding a Shetland pony over the jumps to win the Grand National. At the end of P2 the poltergeists from Peterborough went in with a deserved 2-0 lead, having outplayed Bison and restricted them to a mere 5 shots on goal for the period. Their first score came on 33:23. James Ferrara and Leigh Jamieson set up Nathan Salem for a shot, which deflected off goaltender Dean Skinns’s pad and in. 1-0 Phantoms.

Then on 35:59, a mere 36 seconds of play later, it was 2-0. Skinns made the save. But the puck lobbed up into the air and Ales Padelek put it in when it returned to earth, an event which Sir Isaac Newton would have greeted with an “I told you so” comment. There was no immediate award of the goal, but instead the officials huddled together, not too keep warm I am sure, but to discuss the finer points. Had there been goaltender interference? Had the net come off its moorings before the puck entered it? The result of the discussion was negative on both counts. It was a good goal. Owen Griffiths and Tom Norton were declared as the assistants. 2-0 Phantoms.

P3 opened and the assembled were to witness an astonishing comeback with the Phantoms conceding 4 goals from 13 shots on goal sending netman King’s save percentage for the game spiralling into the ground like a shot down ME109 nosediving into a Kentish field during the Battle of Britain. No sooner had the period opened than Tomas Karpov was away and in on goal. The Czech chap was hooked by Darius Pliskauskas in much the same way as J.R Hartley would hook a fish. The whistle blew. Strangely enough a penalty shot was not awarded, but instead a 2 minute penalty for the miscreant. It looked as if the Phantoms had got off the hook with that one, but not so as Bison proceeded to score on the power play. The puck became trapped on the boards. Josh Smith dug it out and found Karpov on the point. He fired a pass to Desperate Dan Scott on the opposite point with a shout of “Oi Geezer! Stick your lumber on that, matey”. And stick his lumber on that was exactly what Scott did. The clappered puck flew in off goaltender King with 41:54 on the clock. Hoss Cartwright would have stopped that one, but King, of slighter build, didn’t. (Hoss who? See footnote). 1-2 Phantoms.

3 minutes later it was 2-2 as Rounding levelled it. The Phantoms were disintegrating like a dry stone wall in a hurricane. Terrible puck control allowed Ryan Sutton to snatch possession. In the blink of an eye he was over the blue line and finding General Grant Rounding at the back door. I would have liked to describe the ghostly D as statuesque. But to stand like a statue you have to be there in the first place. The D failed to qualify on that count. They were nowhere to be seen as Rounding with, as Louis Armstrong (see below) once sang, “all the time in the world” controlled the puck and rifled past King. 2-2.

  

Bison had snatched the momentum away from the Phantoms, but the sepulchral visitors almost immediately snatched it back with a power play goal 23 seconds of play later. With Kurt “The Scissors” Reynolds banged up for tripping, a smart move between Padelek and Will Weldon created a man over. On this occasion the third man was not Harry Lime, but rather Owen Griffiths, who snapped home the puck on one knee from a position right on top of the goal. 2-3 Phantoms and surely Bison killed off. Well actually no, so don’t go off to make a cup of tea – there is much more for me to relate.

The spectral East Anglians now had the opportunity to close down the game and cruise to a win which would have virtually sealed the title for them. However, their inept D was a car crash waiting to happen just as surely as a partially sighted pensioner would prove a recipe for disaster behind the wheel of a Santa Pod drag racer. And it all went pear shaped for them on 53:07 when Bison levelled the game once more. A shot from Karpov was blocked by goaltender King. However, the netman’s failure to freeze the puck led to a helter-skelter, topsy-turvy, harem-scarem, free-for-all mother of all every man for himself mêlées in the goalmouth and it would be Josh Smith who would get the vital touch and poke the puck over the line as the net came off its moorings. Referee Matthews’s right hand became flat and pointed in a netwards direction, thus declaring it to be a good goal. 3-3.

The final part of the apparitional fall apart occurred some 3 minutes later on 56:10 to be precise. “Goodbye, goodbye, we’re leaving you, skiddlydye. Goodbye, we wish a fond goodbye, fa-ta-ta-ta-ta, fa-ta-ta-ta”. So sang Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, pictured below. It might just as well have been sung by the Phantoms’ D because they appeared to have left the game, hanging their hapless netman out to dry, as Karpov found Desperate Dan Davies at the back door with only King to beat. This he did at the second attempt. The goal light illuminated and a sudden commotion stirred amongst the Bison backers, who in unison sprang to their feet and delivered a vocal hullabaloo loud enough to register on the Richter Scale. Amongst the wraithlike visitors a feeling of funereal perturbation haunted their consciousness. 4-3 Bison.

4 minutes to play and enough time for the eidolon-esque visitors to snatch it back. But they were to be taught a lesson by Bison on how to close down a game and the final phase of the game saw them desperately huff and puff, but fail to produce a realistic threat on the Bison goal. Things became unbearably tense in the last couple of minutes with a pulled goaltender and all manner of franticism, but still the Phantoms could not pull a rabbit out of the hat (not that they were trying to do precisely that) and produce that desperately needed piece of Ooo Matron hockey and a goal which would have given them a point and an opportunity to go on and win the game. “It's too late, baby now, it's too late” sang Carole King in 1971 - that's her below. And so it proved for the Phantoms. Ooo Matron turned into Ooo Betty. The final buzzer sounded and the arena exploded, not literally of course. They whooped, they hollered, they hugged, they high-5ed, they emitted banshee-esque wails and war cries, mothers threw their babies into the air and grown men cried. OK the last two probably didn’t happen, but, suffice it to say, the place was filled with scenes of unbridled jubilation. Bison had snatched the laurel wreath, not wraith, of victory from around the neck of the Phantoms.

All that remained to be done was to elect the Top Bananas. They were respectively Padelek for the visitors and Davies for the homesters.

Footnote : Those of a certain age will remember Hoss Cartwright, played by Dan Blocker, in Bonanza, the most successful cowboy TV show of the 60s. He arrived in this world on 10^th December 1928, weighing in at a staggering 14 lbs, much to the surprise of his mother I am sure. At the peak of his stardom Dan stood 6’4” and weighed 365 lbs, about 100 lbs heavier than Fatty Arbuckle. Now you know.