Sunday, 2 February 2020

Tait Drags Bison Back From the Apocalypse


Bison 4 London/Romford Raiders 3 (O/T)
1/2/20

What was the shortest war in history? It was the Anglo-Zanzibar War of 1896, of course. It didn’t last for years, months, weeks, days or even hours. It was all over in 38 minutes when a naval bombardment on the Sultan’s palace (that’s the geezer’s gaff below after the bombardment) persuaded the Zanzibaris to surrender. In short they gave up. There is no similarity between Anglo-Zanzibar War and last night’s game between Bison and the Raiders because, despite being 0-3 down with 3:28 to play and their best player off the ice with a match penalty, Bison didn’t give up. Oh no matron. There was no Zanzibar-esque capitulation here. Bison won the game in the most dramatic fashion imaginable. But you, dear reader, will not have to use your imagination, as, if you read the following humble acount, you will become wholly appraised of the events of the night.


I will not dwell in great detail on the events of the first 46 minutes of the game. Eh? What sort of a match report is this? OK then just a bit.

The Raiders built themselves a 3-0 lead with a goal in each period. The first resulted from a stretch pass from former Bison skipper Aaron “Billy” Connolly to Brandon Ayliffe, who was in on goal and cleverly deked Alex “Mittens” Mettam to score. 1-0 Raiders. Ooo Betty.

We moved into P2 and on 35:06 violence of the most malodorous variety broke out. Basingstoke had not seen such violence since the great Temperance Riot of 1881. (Riot in Basingstoke? Oh yes. See footnote). It was difficult to tell exactly what happened, but, whilst several players went down the steps, others involved in the unsavoury proceedings got away without having their collars felt. When the dust settled Bison’s Michal Klejna had a 2+2 for fighting and a match penalty for slew footing, about which he was incredulous. This was subsequently overturned as there was absolutely no video evidence to support the decision. Oh Lordy! One wonders whether Stevie wonder could have made a a worse call. Mason Webster with a 2+2 for fighting, Callum Wells with a 2+10 and match for checking to the head and Jack Flynn with a 10 misconduct were the Raiders miscreants.

2 minutes later the Raiders scored again with an unfortunate deflection from Dancing Jay King past Mettam. Ayliffe was credited with Erik Piatak and J.J. Pitchley the assistants. 2-0 Raiders. Oh Lordy. Nothing was going right for Bison.

Into P3 we passed and into a 3-0 lead the Raiders moved. On 49:43 and on the power play, Ayliffe, assisted by Lukas Sladowski completed his hat-trick with a ballet-dancer-on-the-top-of-a-jewellery-box-esque twirl and back handed shot past Mettam. 3-0 Raiders. Flamin’ Nora.

As I put pen to paper to record the goal details, the Bespectacled Youth, who knows I write reports only when Bison win, asked “why are you bothering?” I replied “you never know.” Did I believe Bison were going to come back from the dead and win the game or was I was swilling around in the quagmire of defeatism as much as the next man. Put me in the stocks and throw rotten vegetables at me if you must, dear reader, but I am ashamed to admit I held the latter opinion. It was looking very much like one of those nights when nothing would go right. But then something did go right, although not in the manner we would have expected. Shortly after their 3rd goal, Piatak thought he had bagged a 4th, but, after consulting Honest Pete, the goal judge, the officials decided it hadn’t gone in. What may have happened was Piatak’s shot went in through the Mettam 5-hole, hit the goal frame and then came back out of the 5-hole and into the blue paint where Mettam smothered it. It was very difficult to see. No discredit to Honest Pete. You could search the world over in a quest for a comparable fine upstanding fellow of impeccable moral fibre, integrity and virtuosity and not find one (OK that might be a bit of an exaggeration). Had the goal been given it would have been 4-0 and Bison hopes of winning the game would surely have suffered a fate similar to that of Richard the Raker, a Mediaeval gong farmer, who in 1325 fell into a cess pit and drowned. What is a gong farmer? Well, dear reader, as you may be enjoying your breakfast, lunch or even an early tiffin as you read this report, I shall hold back from describing the utterly ghastly, revolting and degrading tasks which gong farmers had to perform. However, if you wish to appraise yourself of the details of what was probably the worst job ever invented, I have provided you with a link in footnote 2.

We moved into the final phase of this extraordinary game and what we were about to see was scarcely believable. However, I can assure you it actually happened. I know I have mentioned him a couple of times in previous reports, but the comeback from the brink of Armageddon  eclipsed anything Lazarus might have done in rising from the dead. There’s no other suitable analogy. So, having suffered 46 minutes of unadulterated agony, worse than having pins driven into our eyeballs, we were about to experience an 8 minutes which propelled the Bison backers onto a new plane of Nirvana. Conversely it was 8 minutes of ravine of doom plunging beastliness for the Raiders, who must have thought the spoils were theirs.

On 56:32 with Ollie Baldock banged up for interference, Bison bagged what looked like a consolation goal. Ryan Sutton to Gordon “George” Norcliffe, who slipped a pass to Coach Ashley Tait. In 1899 American poet William Hughes Mearnes penned a curious little poem entitled Antigonish, the first verse of which is :

Yesterday, upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today, oh how I wish he'd go away

Perhaps Mearns had the Raiders’ D in mind when he wrote the poem as, like the man upon the stair, quite simply they weren’t there. Tait had all the time in the world to skate across the crease unchallenged and propel the puck past the pad of Ethan James and into the net. 3-1 Raiders.

Bison tails were up and only 36 seconds later it was 2-3. A delayed penalty was called, occasioning the exit of goaltender Mettam. He bolted for the bench as if his life depended on it. If he was actually thinking that his life did depend on it, he must be suffering from paranoid schizophrenia because it didn’t really. Over the wall came skater no.6 and Bison mounted a Zanzibar War-esque bombardment on the Raiders’ net. Tait to Liam “Square Sausage” Morris to fellow Caledonian D-man Dancing Jay King. Ever heard of Dave Tutt? Of course you haven’t. Well he was the first man to be killed in a gunfight by the legendary Wild Bill Hickok, not to be confused with Alfred Hitchcock, who is someone completely different. It is believed this was the very first “quick draw” gunfight where antagonists start with holstered weapons. The duel took place on 21st July 1865 in Springfield, Missouri. The two stood sideways to each other and Hickok nailed Tutt with a single shot from his 1851 pattern Navy Colt cap and ball revolver at 75 yards! Even if the range was exaggerated (well it is a tale from the Wild West so it’s bound to be), it was incredibly accurate shooting. And with a similar degree of accuracy, King wiggled his twig and whipped a pinpoint accurate wrist shot high into the net from the hash marks. 2-3 Raiders.

Dave Tutt and Wild Bill Hickok

The 1851 Pattern Navy Colt cap and ball revolver


Bison had 2:52 to snatch a levelling score. Surely they couldn’t? There was an explosion of noise from the crowd, attaining new decibelular levels as their wall of sound encouraged their icemen forward. Time was ticking away. Surely all was lost as we entered the last few seconds. But fie and pish. With a mere 3.6 seconds left on the clock it was all square. An on the doorstep Tait poked in with Dangling Dick Bordowski and Adam Harding assisting. In 1959 Rosco Gordon (that’s him below) had a huge R & B hit with “Just a little bit”, a song later also recorded by a myriad of artists including Elvis Presley. In the song Gordon urges the object of his affections to “turn your lights down low, honey, slip me a kiss, turn your lights down low, I beg you, I can’t resist.” All he wanted was an “eeny-weeny bit, a teeny-weeny bit” of her (could have been his) love. Tait’s goal brought the opposite reaction from the goal judge. He didn’t turn his light down low, he put it on full blast to indicate it was a goal. 3-3. It was a comeback of gargantuan magnitude. Ooo Matron!


And so into overtime we passed. This was dominated by Bison with 7 shots on goal to the Raiders’ 1 and a penalty to each side. As we lolloped towards a penalty shoot out Bison snatched it on the power play with a mere 1.6 seconds left on the clock. Adam Jones provided an Ooo Mr. Rigsby pass to Tait who laid lumber to biscuit and fired the puck goalwards. The last thing James wanted to do was give up a rebound, but, much to his very grave chagrin, he proved rubberoid on this occasion and there on the doorstep was Dangling Dick. No need for a dangle on this occasion, he just needed to smash it in and this he did. 4-3 Bison and game won. Arms were thrown aloft, hats were propelled to the rafters, banshee-esque cries rent the air, donkeys brayed, grown men burst into tears and ladies of delicate constitution fainted and had to be revived with smelling salts. Holy Guacamole, blistering Biriyanis and Hell’s bells and buckets of blood! What a wacko-the-diddle-o comeback. You could watch a thousand hockey games in a hundred countries and see nothing like this ever again. As for the Raiders, they must have thought they had it in the bag only to have the sweet smell of success wafted away from their nostrils in the cruellest fashion imaginable. You have to feel sorry for them. No? OK maybe not. All’s fair in love and hockey I suppose.

Top bananas were chosen. Netman Ethan James was considered best Raider and Coach Tait with 2 + 2 was elected top Bison.

Footnote 1 : In 1881 Basingstoke boasted 3 breweries and 50 pubs and the mayor, W.B. Blatch, was a brewer. On March 27th of that year over 1,000 people took part in The Battle of Church Square, as local brewery workers, publicans and assorted blackguards and ne’er-do-wells, many of whom were drunk it is said, sought to break up a Salvation Army march preaching against the evils of alcohol. As the town, so one London newspaper described it was ‘populated chiefly by a set of barbarians’ (still true today?), the Salvation Army didn’t have much of a chance. No-one was killed, but bones were broken, windows were smashed and it was Brewers 1 Sally Army 0.

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