Fumbling Phantoms Falter and Fail

Bison 6 Peterborough Phantoms 0

18/9/21 

On June 25^th, 1876 a dreadful massacre occurred on the banks of the Little Bighorn. A combined force of  Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho warriors under the command of Crazy Horse surrounded and annihilated to a man a force of US 7th Cavalry troopers under the command of George Armstrong Custer (that’s him below). It was, of course, what became to be known as (as well as being grossly inaccurately portrayed) Custer’s last stand. What we saw at Planet Ice last night was a massacre of similar one sided proportions, although thankfully no-one was killed.  What on earth has happened to the Phantoms? The team we saw last night looked a shadow of the strong competitive team that nearly won the league in 2016 (pipped by Bison) and 2018 (pipped by Bison). Bison cruised to a shutout victory with the greatest of ease, as I shall relate in the forthcoming paragraphs. I would urge you, dear reader, to read on.

P1 opened. There were no goals. P1 closed. What more is there to say?

P2 opened and it didn’t take Bison long to open the scoring and start the agonising slide of the Phantoms down the greasy pole to reach their place of inconsolable, Prozac popping wretchedness by the end of a match which will haunt them for all eternity (OK that last bit might be a trifle exaggerated). What about the goal? Oh yes. On 23:18 a stretch pass so enormous that even Stretch Armstrong would have been impressed (Stretch who? See below) was delivered by Brendan Baird to the Phantoms’ blue line. There lurked Adam Harding, who took possession of the biscuit and set forth in a goalwards direction. The Phantoms’ D had been caught with their trousers down, but thankfully not literally so there was no public outrage. Nevertheless they were out to lunch, out of sorts and out for the count as Harding bore down on the hapless Jordan Marr, custodian of the ghostly net. Harding whipped an unstoppable wrist shot past the unfortunate Caledonian. Well it may have been stoppable, but not by Marr. The net bulged and it was 1-0 Bison. A goal of great ghastliness for the ghostly visitors to concede. It had been ghoulish defending. It was Bison’s first competitive goal for a year and a half. The crowd showed their approbation. Had there been any vicars present, they may have shouted, “PRAISE THE LORD!”, although it is unlikely that the Almighty had anything to do with the goal, but Baird and Hallum Wilson had and they were awarded assists.

Not content with a one goal lead (well why should they be?), Bison surged further ahead on 27:39. Alex Sampford scrapped for the puck on the boards, won it and then thought he had become Lionel Messi. He kicked the puck forward with great accuracy to Harding, who charged forward over the blue line with Gordon “George” Norcliffe in support in a 2 on 1. The 1 didn’t hinder the 2 at all as Harding slewed an across the crease pass to Norcliffe. We heard the thwack of stick tape on rubber and the puck flew past the despairing netman. His life was turning into a nightmarr (Credit where credit’s due - Red Leader came up with that one – awful isn’t it?) Marr had been left exposed once more. However, from the Bison perspective it was a goal of great artistry, which had the crowd shouting “HOLY MACKEREL!” and “JUMPING JEHOSOPHT ON A POGO STICK!” and similar exclamations in recognition of the spectacularity of the shot. 2-0 Bison.

3-0 followed 2-0 in quick succession. Just over a minute after goal 2 more unspeakable blue line ineptitude from the visitors allowed Alex Roberts, set up by Paul Petts, to slip the puck past Marr on the doorstep. Zack Milton with the second assist. The Bison crowd trumpeted their approval at an elephantine level of noise.

By now Coach Koulikov must have been popping the Prozac as he watched with cringing embarrassment the chunderous defending of his team. There seemed no answer to a rampant Bison. However, the Phantoms did hold out for the remaining 11 minutes of the period and must have been relieved when the end of second buzzer sounded, as indeed it inevitably did – on 40:00 in case you are wondering.

P3 opened and very soon the crowd were treated to a moment of great comedic value. Just like a man who had been on a 3 day bender in the company of Jack Daniels, Glen Fiddich and Captain Morgan and had then been hit on the head with a baseball bat, Ref Matthews lost his balance and fell to the ice in a most ignominious fashion. The combined efforts of Charlie Chaplin, the Marx Brothers, Tommy Cooper and Mr. Bean could not have produced a greater piece of slapstick comedy – or at least so the crowd appeared to think. The embarrassment suffered by Mr. Matthews can only be imagined.

Back to the more important issue of the outcome of the game. The calculation was simple. 3 goals and the Phantoms would be on level terms. And indeed 3 goals were scored. Much to the very grave chagrin of the apparitional visitors, however, it was Bison who bagged them, starting on 46:29. Adam ”Oh no not Jonesy” Jones set up fellow D-man Brendan Baird for a clapper. He, the latter, brought his lumber down and propelled the biscuit goalwards. The shot was blocked, but the puck fell invitingly in front of the crease to Alex Sampford, who turned and slotted it past Marr. Ref Matthews flat-handedly pointed at the net whilst keeping his feet – a fine example of multi-tasking from this dangerously unstable official. 4-0 Bison.    

Worse was to come for the spectral visitors, who were clearly scaring no-one by this juncture. On 49:33 Corey McEwen tripped Liam Morris. “Oi Geezer! I saw that. You’re gonna do porridge,” said Mr. Matthews or words to that effect. The errant Phantom entered the box with a remit to reflect on his inappropriate conduct and hopefully emerge a reformed character 2 minutes later. Alas his period of reflection and contrition was cut short as less than a minute later Coach Ashley Tait hammered in at the back door (assists to Jones and Milton). Don’t ask me to describe the goal – I wasn’t looking. 5-0 Bison.

The Phantoms’ night of misery and dejection was not yet over. The same combination for goal 5 worked goal 6. The goal caused the traveling Phantoms’ fans to spiral downwards into a dark place where depression, hopelessness and melancholia abounded. There was only 1 bottle of Prozac left in the away block and fights broke out amongst the fans for its contents (OK I might be exaggerating a little here). Goal no. 6 was another power play goal. On 50:15 Thomas Barry (not to be confused with Barry Thomas, Hackney Hawks speedway rider from the 70s – Honest Pete will remember him) was adjudged guilty of a trip. The dictionary defines trip as “a voyage or journey made by a boat, train, bus or the like between two points”. This clearly not what Barry did, although he was invited by Ref Matthews to make a voyage to the penalty box in consequence. No conveyance of any sort was available, so Barry had to go to the cooler under his own steam. And there he sat for 1:58.

A mere 2 seconds remained on the penalty and it looked as if the Phantoms might be successful in defending the PP. However, Jones, Tait and Milton had other ideas with the latter slotting in on the doorstep. 6-0 Bison.

The clock ran down and no-one dared to even whisper the word beginning with “S”. At 60:00 the final buzzer sounded, the shut out had been achieved and the Little Bighorn-esque massacre was complete. Oh dear Phantoms.

Top bananas were elected. The Bison choice was a difficult one. Alex “Mittens” Mettam with a shut out? Adam “Oh no not Jonesy” Jones with 3 assists – points scoring D-men don’t grow on trees, unlike money? No it was Zack “Paradise Lost” Milton with 1 goal and 2 assists and now a box of beers. Best Phantom was the incredibly speedy Morgan Clarke-Pizzo.

 Doughty Double Does It

Bison 3 Raiders 2

11/9/21

O Joy! Planet Ice is still standing. Do the steps slope more than they did 18 months ago? Or have we forgotten how much they sloped already? Who knows? What we do know for sure is that hockey has returned! And on Saturday night our creaking shed was packed to the gunwhales, except those areas closed off to the public for fear of a structural collapse. We had all come to see the season opener – a friendly with the London/Romford Raiders. Well I say “friendly”, although, as you will become aware if you read on, dear reader, events at the end of P2 threatened to rebrand this fixture an “unfriendy”. But, as usual, I jump ahead. Let us return to the beginning of the game – P1 opened……

Bison broke the deadlock on 10:43. Alex Roberts robbed a dilatory and dithering D-man of the puck on the blue line. I shall decline to name the D-man, not because I wish to spare his blushes, but because I don’t know who he was. The Canadian fellow slewed a diagonal pass to the man sporting the best Irish name I have heard since I worked with Mick O’Toole on a building site in 1979. Of course it was Aidan Doughty. The Irishman (actually he was born on the Isle of Wight not the Emerald Isle, but why let that prevent a plethora of Irish references in forthcoming reports) unleashed an unstoppable wrist shot past Brad Windebank, the despairing Raiders goaltender. The puck crashed into the net with such force that, had it been as flimsy as Ena Sharples’s hair net (that famous Coronation Street battle-axe - see below), it would have passed through and travelled all the way to Dublin. But the Bison goal nets are made of stern stuff and this did not happen. The net merely bulged. 1-0 Bison and no more scoring in the period.

Bison began P2 hoping to increase their lead, but, much to their very grave chagrin, the Raiders levelled it up instead. On 21:15 ex-Bison man Desperate Dan Scott found another ex Bison man Aaron “Billy” Connolly. Billy, who won everything at Bison, but very little at the Raiders (in fact nothing at all) executed an oh so familiar Connolly move, cutting in from the right wing and whipping a shot past Alex “Mittens” Mettam in the Bison net. 1-1. The handful of Raiders fans who had made the trip attempted to emulate the shock waves generated by the eruption of Krakatoa in 1883, which circled the planet 7 times. Alas not only did their cheering not circumnavigate the globe seven times nor once, it couldn’t even be heard in Block C, but never mind. Perhaps they would have an opportunity to do better if the Raiders scored again.

Bison restored their lead before the period had drawn to a conclusion. On 23:07 Rio Grinnel-Park was deemed guilty of a crosscheck. Whether he was cross at the time he committed the check, only he can confirm. It mattered not. Referee Brooks blew a thunderous blast from his Acme Thunderer and exclaimed “Oi matey! You can’t do that. You’re going down the steps”. And indeed down the steps he went, albeit only metaphorically, as the way to the penalty box from the ice is actually up one step. It matters not a jot how many steps and in which direction were involved. The end result was that Grinnel-Park was banged up. Bison went on the power play and managed to take advantage of the 5 on 4 with the clock on 24:25. If you are curious to find out how, read on.

A lightning attack involving Roberts and Zack “Paradise Lost” Milton displayed such artistry that, if it had had static physical form, you could have hung it in the Tate. They cut the Raiders D to ribbons as effectively as a scorned girlfriend would scissor up your best Savile Row suit. The set up pass was to Doughty steaming in from the left wing with only Windebank to beat. It called for a top ched screamer and this is precisely what the much larger than a leprechaun forward produced. He whipped an unstoppable shot past the head and shoulder (nothing to do with dandruff shampoo) of the hapless goaltender. 2-1 Bison. The Bison backers exploded and attempted to show the Raiders’ fans how to properly emulate the eruption of Krakatoa. They did their best but a 7 times circling of the earth with their shock waves was not achieved. Goal no.2 for Doughty and Irish eyes must have been smiling.

The period ended with scenes of the most appalling violence, more than the Battle of Waterloo (1815), the Cawnpore Massacre (1857) and the first day of the Somme (1916) combined. It started with Alex Mettam being given a snow shower by Tom Relph as he, the former, covered the puck in his crease. Liam “Square Sausage” Morris quite rightly took exception to this and attempted to extract an apology from Relph. The latter clearly was not going to offer one up, so Morris decided to knock the errant fellow’s block off instead. A scene of the most virulent violence erupted. The crowd were on their feet wallowing in blood lust and shouts of “KILL ‘IM” were heard emanating from Block C. Possibly exhortations to Morris to commit serious atrocities on Relph were made elsewhere also, but I heard none. Meaty blows were exchanged until finally the officials stepped in to call a halt to the proceedings. The pugilists skated off, doubtless hoping that the officials hadn’t noticed and no censure would be forthcoming. They were mistaken. The contretemps had been difficult not to see, even for the myopic officials, and each miscreant received a 5 minute fighting penalty with the errant Relph an additional 2 minutes for “unsportsmanlike conduct”. You bet it was.

And so into the final period we passed. The game was evenly poised, but not for long. On 47:16 Lukas Sladovsky got cross and was called for checking. “I’m the man with the tin star,” said Ref Matthews, “and you can either get out of Dodge or go to the penalty box”. It is doubtful that Sladovsky even realised he was in Dodge in the first place, so he chose to go to the box, hoping for a 2 minute feet up rest while his colleagues defended the power play. Alas they failed and he was out in only 5 seconds. The puck was worked back and forth across the Raiders’ goal. Brendan Baird (I wonder if he has as many superstitions as his brother Rabbits’ Foot Joe Baird) lurked on the point with stick raised. He brought it down with the blade hitting the ice just behind the puck. The stick bent and straightened (OK I couldn’t actually see that from Block C) and thwacked the biscuit to make it fly in a goalwards direction. Windebank may have had the shot covered, but he never had the pleasure of finding out because, before it reached him, a twig was dangled and the biscuit changed direction and was past him before he could say “Jack Robinson”, although I am not sure he would have wanted to say that anyway. The twig dangler was Alex Sampford. Goal no.1 of the season for him. A second assist to Liam Morris. 3-1 Bison.

Bison were now comfortable, but as we know as 2 goal lead can be lost in as little time it takes to say Jack Robinson (oh no not him again). A further 10 minutes passed with the Raiders trying desperately hard to reduce the arrears, but to no avail. Then suddenly they did just that with Erik Piatak whipping a pinpoint accurate shot past Mettam, who had delivered a stellar performance in the Bison net and had stopped all manner of goalbound shots until then. Dan Scott was once again identified as assistant. 3-2 Bison and all to play for in the last 2:44.

The Raiders threw their all into a final effort. Time was running out and a last desperate throw of the dice was needed. They were in the last chance saloon and they would have to pull their goaltender. The signal was made and Windebank skated off at such speed that I thought he was being chased by a rabid stoat. However, no such creature could I see. A 6 on 5 ensued, but yielded no benefit. The final buzzer sounded and it was Goodnight Vienna for the Raiders.

Men of the Match were elected. Bison’s best was adjudged to have been Aidan Doughty and the Raiders’ top banana was Aaron “Billy” Connolly.