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).