Monday, 26 March 2018

Smith Kicks Raiders' Season Into Touch




Bison 3 London Raiders 0 (Aggregate 10-4)
Britton Conference playoff semi-final 2nd leg
25/3/18

The London Raiders must be sick of the sight of Bison. In what has proved to be a fantastic season for them, they have met the Hampshire icemen on 5 prior league and playoff occasions and had their trousers taken down every time, scoring 7 and conceding 26. Could they turn the tables and claw back a 3 goal deficit from the previous evening’s 4-7 first leg reverse? (Have you ever wondered why it’s not called an arm rather than a leg?) As you have already read the score at the top of the page, you will know the answer. But don’t let this discourage you, dear reader. With your permission I shall attempt and probably fail to describe accurately the events of the evening, so pray read on.

P1 opened and later closed without score, so let us not dwell in the opening epoch, which, although not excitementless, as it did contain moments of spectacularity, was one which ended with the goal judges, the scoreboard operator and the score sheet scribbler unemployed and probably wondering why they had turned up. Let us move on to the 2nd period where, on 2 occasions, the scoreboard operator’s finger was called into action and the scribbler scribbled.

Goaltender Michael Gray was enjoying a splendid evening and we began to wonder how Bison were going to find a way past the concrete custodian. They needn’t have worried, as his Berlin Wall was about to crumble, just like the real Berlin Wall did, although in Gray’s case no sledgehammers or jubilant crowds were involved. Well actually the latter were involved, but not in a manner which Gray would have liked. Let’s go back to 31:54. Sean Barry was adjudged to have held General Grant Rounding in a manner reminiscent of a court official exercising a restraining order. “Bring back the birch” shouted the more radically minded amongst the crowd. Fortunately for Barry Referee Pickett didn’t have the constitutional power to do so and the crowd had to be content with merely a 2 minute minor. And they became even more content as the resultant power play was of a fruit bearing variety. Kurt “The Scissors” Reynolds fed Roman Malinik, who would be our favourite Polish builder were he not Czech. The latter hammered a shot on the net with the speed of a dollop of mortar slapped onto the edge of a concrete block and there in front of the hapless Gray was Long Ciaron Long lookalike, Josh Smith, dangling his twig. Crack! We heard the sound of rubber against stick tape and over the line slid the puck to bypass the despairing Gray. Half the game gone at last a goal. 1-0 Bison.

The game was drawing to a P2 conclusion with Bison having to be content with a solitary goal lead. However, with only 53 seconds remaining in the period John Connolly, not to be confused with Aaron “Billy” Connolly, who isn’t John Connolly, was dismissed in disgrace to the penalty box for an interference offence against the Antonov twins. How he managed to hold on to both Vanya and Ivan at the same time was quite a feat of strength, of which Charles Atlas would have been proud (Charles who? Legendary body builder of course and inspiration to many a 7 stone weakling – that’s him below). Perhaps he should have got a 2 + 2 for interfering with both twins, but no it was a standard 2 minuter. Bison took control of the puck, passed it around and around and back and forth, up and down, not to mention this way and that, until Reynolds saw an opportunity and fired the puck in a netwards direction. On the doorstep was Josh Smith. He shot. Gray saved. The puck rebounded and then went over the line with a mere 2 seconds left in the period. About 1,000 people in the place saw that Smith had kicked it over the line. Only 3 hadn’t, namely Referee Pickett and his linos. A captains and officials conference ensued. “It was a good goal,” declared Mr. Pickett. Well it wasn’t really, we all knew, but it counted. Visiting skipper, Tom Davis, must have wondered whether an officiating trio of Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles and Mister Magoo would have seen more than Messrs Pickett, O’Neill and Sitch-Cunningham. I guess you win some, you lose some. 2-0 Bison.

 
Into P3 we moved and Bison seemed well in control of the game, their faculties and their destiny, if not destiny’s child. The Raiders needed 5 quick goals to get back level. Could they bag them? Well actually no. They couldn’t. And on 49:12 they fell further behind in the game, on aggregate and in their search for the lost ark. Their nemesis on this occasion was, once again, Malinik, as he set up a goal in a manner of some spectacularity. He received a pass out of defense from Hallum Wilson. The Czech chap’s movement was of Ooo Matron quality as he dashed up the wing and cut inside towards goal. He could hardly be described as apathetic, torpid, indolent, phlegmatic or lethargic. Indeed no. No sluggard was he, as he hastened forward with tempo, momentum, rapidity, vivacity and velocity. In a hurry you might say. But that was only part of it. He also proved as elusive as the Scarlet Pimpernel as he slipped past the covering D-man, who failed to live up to the adjectival part of his description, as he covered nothing at all. The Czech chap speared an inch perfect pass towards the back door and there, skating forward with the velocity of a Peregrine Falcon, which can reach speeds of 200 mph in a dive, and poking the puck home one handed and at full stretch, was Paul Petts, as opposed to Charlie Pitts, who was someone completely different. (Charlie who? See footnote). 3-0 Bison.

Those who had thought that the Raiders would be back in it with 5 quick goals, now reached even higher levels of incredulity with a belief that 6 goals in 10 minutes would see them reach their Shangri-La. Bison had other ideas and made sure that the aforementioned Shagri-La remained unreached. 4-10 to the bad, the Raiders had truly become raiders of the lost cause. And so it proved. The final buzzer blared forth and it was Bison who were on their way to Coventry. Top bananas were the Raiders’ concrete custodian, Michael Gray and Bison’s choice was Josh Smith – perhaps they should have given it to his left skate (see description of goal no.2).

Footnote :Read this to the end – it gets weird. Charlie Pitts was a member of the Jesse James gang, which was ambushed by gun toting townsfolk when they tried to rob the First National Bank at Northfield Minnesota on 7th September, 1876. 2 of the gang were shot dead and the other 6, including Jesse and Frank James and Pitts, were all wounded, but escaped. Pitts was tracked down and shot dead by a posse 2 weeks later. Now the weird stuff. One of those killed outside the bank was Clell Miller, shot dead by a medical student named Henry Wheeler. Wheeler claimed the body (no-one else wanted it) for dissection and study. When he graduated from medical school he opened his practice in Grand Forks, North Dakota, where he displayed Clell Miller’s skeleton like a trophy. How distasteful!


Sunday, 18 March 2018

Dynamos Fail To Generate Any Electricity


Bison 6 Invicta Dynamos 0
17/3/18

With the league title or, to give it its proper name, the NIHL South 1 Britton Conference, clinched last weekend with an 8-1 flagellation of the Cardiff Fire, Bison now moved into the first playoff preliminary round. Much to their chagrin, the Dynamos found themselves having to face the same team that had given them a 10-1 trousers down spanking last weekend. Would they fare better this time? They did, but not by much, as I shall relate, dear reader.

P1 was scoreless and I intended to waste no paper in describing the events of that goalless epoch. Indeed no. I shall move on to P2 without further comment or ado.

P2 opened and Bison eventually scored, but it had taken them 23:05 of the game to do so. However, they wouldn’t have scored had it not been for an Ooo Betty moment for goaltender Damien “The Omen” King, who, I am reliably informed, is not the same person as Euan King. He (Damien not Euan that is) was caught out, caught napping, caught on the hop, caught with his trousers down and caught a cold as a result. Stuart “The Cat” Mogg floated a speculative wrist shot on the net from the blue line. We heard a clunk of rubber against metal, we saw a red goal light illuminated, we smelled success. Referee Brooks and his flat pointy hand confirmed that an unassisted Moggie had scored. 1-0 Bison.

On 26:20 Ondrej Zosiak slashed Paul Petts. Slash has a dictionary definition of “to cut or lay about
(a person or thing) with sharp sweeping strokes, as with a sword, knife, etc”.We can only assume that
this is what Mr. Brooks saw Zosiak doing to Petts, thankfully without a sword or a knife. The whistle
blew and up went the Brooks arm to indicate a penalty. Said Brooks to Zosiak, 
“you’re bang out of order, matey. You’re doing a spot of porridge for that.”   
Having played in England for 3 years, there was no need for anyone to translate this into Zosiak’s 
native tongue thus –:
 
Chystáte sa preruÅ¡iÅ¥, matey. Robíš miesto na opeľovanie.” He knew what was coming and down 
the steps went the hapless Slovak D-man. Bison were on the power play.

43 seconds later it was 2-0. Set up by Desperate Dan Davies and Aaron “Billy” Connolly, Tomas Karpov found himself in front of goal unchallenged and with all the time in the world to pick his spot such was the ineptitude of the Mos’ D in closing him down, which they didn’t do at all. The Czech chap had so much time he might even have done an eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Suddenly he whipped a wrist shot past a startled King.

43 seconds later it was 3-0. Just as they had on the previous Saturday, the Mos were crumbling in the 2nd as surely as the walls of Jericho did at the 7th trumpet blast. Davies laid on a drop pass for Karpov to skate onto. The fellow fast-tracked forward firmly and faultlessly to finish with finesse and fortitude. The finish was another wrist shot which beat King for pace and flew past him before he could say Ooo Matron, Ooo Betty or Ooo er Mrs. 3-0 Bison.

King may have thought that his P2 misery was over, but, if he did, he was wallowing in a sea of misapprehension. Bison hadn’t finished and scored a 4th in a manner which must have plunged the hapless netman into a state of doom, despondency, depression, disconsolation, distress and defeatism. It all started on 36:02 with the gritty Mason Webster having his collar felt for boarding. Just as the penalty was expiring Kurt “The Scissors” Reynolds, set up by Roman Malinik and Josh Smith, whipped a wrist shot in a netwards direction. Presumably screened, King had no idea what was coming. Had it been a slap shot at least he would have heard it, but it wasn’t and he didn’t. The silent puck flew past his head and in. He turned his head as if to say “Eh? Where did that one come from”. 4-0 Bison.

The period ended and it had been a chunderous one for the visitors. 0-4 to the bad and only 6 shots on the net in 2 periods (Bison had managed 23 in P2 alone), they were sliding into a bubbling cesspool of humiliation, just as they had the previous week. Could they keep Bison at bay in P3 and go away with a semblance of pride? Well sort of. P3 yielded only 2 more goals, as I shall relate, dear reader.

Bison’s 5th score occurred on 54:39. A messy squabbling of sticks occurred in front of the Mos’ crease. General Grant Rounding (great to see him back after the attempt on his life by the psychopathic Frankie Bakrlik – now suspended for 18 games rather than serving time in a dark, dank dungeon at Her Majesty’s Pleasure, which would have been more appropriate) won the puck and was thinking of a shot himself when he became aware of a motion behind him. Was it the 9:15 to Waterloo? No it was Malinik charging forward as fast as Postman Pat being pursued by the hound of the Baskervilles. He, the Czech chap that is, laid stick on puck and snapped it home past the glove of King, who must have been delighted that he had now been beaten by something which wasn’t a wrist shot. He showed no signs of celebration, however, unlike the Bison players who threw their arms in the air. The only thing the hapless King wanted to throw was the towel in, but he soldiered on.

On 58:28 Bison rounded off the scoring for the night with a 6th goal. I have to confess I lost my concentration on 58:27 and cannot describe how the goal was scored. I turned to the Bespectacled Youth and asked him. He replied “sort of bobbled up and then came down.” That brings me very nicely on to Frank Gusenberg (that's him below), the sole survivor, albeit by only three hours, of the St. Valentine’s Day massacre of 1929, which I have referred to in previous reports, which you will know if you are a regular reader of this balderdash. Police attended the grizzly scene in a garage on (or is it in?) the North Side of Chicago where 7 blood splattered men lay peppered with bullet wounds. Only Gusenberg was still alive. “Who shot you, Frank?” asked one of the boys in blue. Gusenberg was no stool pigeon and, despite having been hit by 8 bullet and now resembling a colander, replied “Nobody shot me.” And so the police were none the wiser. In a similar fashion, on hearing the Bespectacled Youth’s description of the goal, I was none the wiser. Scored by Ryan Sutton and assisted by Paul Petts and Elliott Dewey (his 2nd assist of the game) is all I can say.



And indeed I will say no more except that the game ended and King and Reynolds were elected Top Bananas for their respective teams.