Ooo Betty!

Bison 1 Telford Tigers 4

9/9/16

The 2016-17 season opened with the clash of the last two EPL champions. The Tigers were looking to stop a run of 4 successive flagellations at Planet Ice. With a 4-1 win they kicked off their season in fine fettle and must have high hopes of improving significantly on their under achievement last season, which brought no trophies and only a 4^th place finish in the EPL. As for Bison, it was an Ooo Betty night. They will have many easier games this season and hey! there are another 53 games to go.

On 4:30 the Tigers took the lead. A raking diagonal pass out of defence by Jonathon Weaver found Michal Satek on the right wing. He moved forward and centred for an incoming Matt Davies to outmuscle the Bison D-man and bundle the puck over the line. 1-0 Tigers.

The travelling Tigers supporters enjoyed 7 minutes of joy as their team held on to their lead. However, that all changed on the stroke of 12 minutes. A sonorous blast emanated from Ref Matthews’s whistle. He held up 4 fingers and 2 thumbs. Too many men on the ice was the call. Perhaps one of them had been Greg Clarkson who is so colossal he looks like 2 men. Into the box went someone or other to serve the bench minor. 33 seconds later Bison had levelled it. An attempted clearance out of defence was deflected into the air by Petr Polodna. The puck was then batted down to the ice by Declan “Barrack-O” Balmer. He slewed a cross ice pass to Long Ciaron Long, who shaped to shoot, didn’t, then did. The puck flew across the goaltender and in top shelf. Had Geoffrey Chaucer been present and a Bison fan he might have announced to those around him - “Mi herrt ys full of joye. Good and gentil folke of Olde Basing - if ye be on twytter, I do invyte yow to poost the excitinge newes wyth a hashtagge and tell of yower fayre and mirthful celebracion wyth the manye folke of yower hockye familye”. It was 1-1.

Bison were, however, unable to break through further and, as the period drew to a conclusion, it was the Tigers who took control of the game and scored a couple of goals, which propelled them into an impressive lead and a dominating position. First on 17:04 former Bison Sam Zajac found Matt Davies who centred for Satek to score. 2-1 Tigers. Then, with Jake “the Peg” Bartoň on the naughty boys’ step for tripping, the Tigers bagged their third. Zajac passed to Satek, newly signed from the Manchester Phoenix, for whom he poached a plethora of points last season. Satek set up Rick Plant just inside the blue line. Plant planted the puck in the net with a long range wrist shot. One can only assume that Bison goaltender Tomas Hiadlovsky was screened as the puck sailed in from a long way out. Amongst the Bison crowd some shouted “Holy cow!” Others “Holy makerel!” Others still “Holy Guacamole!” The tigers were taking a 3-1 lead into the interval.

It had been a chunderous period for the home team. Although outshot by only 6-9 the period had been much more one sided that that suggests. Bison had been second best in all aspects. They had to do three things in P2. Firstly, they had to shut down Satek, who was on 1+2. Secondly, they had to tighten up their D work. Thirdly, they had to get men in front of the net to sweep up the gift wrapped opportunities which were being present in the form of rebounding rubber off Tigers’ netman, Ondrej Raszka. As it proved they achieved the first two, but not the third, as I shall relate, dear reader.

We saw a much improved Bison in the 2^nd, but, much to the chagrin of the Bison backers, the Tigers’ goal was proving as impregnable as a trench on the Somme, protected by barbed wire entanglements with machine guns and artillery respectively raking and bombarding no-mans-land in front of it. Bison failed to breach their defences and had to rely on a massive hit by Petr Polodna on Dan Scott, which threatened to bring down the building (that wouldn’t have been difficult), as the highlight of the period.  Luckily for Scott, he is seemingly of robust bodily construction as he was able to absorb the titanic force of Polodna’s body check, albeit with a degree of discomfort I am sure. However he clearly didn’t like the hit, which was perfectly legal, and moments later assaulted Polodna in a fashion perfectly illegal and ended up having his collar felt. But Bison could not take advantage of the 5 on 4.

As the period drew to a close with a frustrated Bison unable to break through, the Tigers hammered another nail into their coffin with their 4^th goal. On 38:01 Warren Tait and Phil Hill combined to set up Macauley Haywood for a shot. Hiadlovsky blocked his first effort, but the puck went straight back to Heywood who put it in from a very tight angle. 4-1 Tigers and hats off to them. That was only their 13^th shot on goal and they had bagged 4 goals.

P3 was played out in much the same way as P2 with Bison pressing, but falling short and goaltender Raszka giving up rubber. Late in the period Antonov’s shot was saved by the Czeck goalie chap, but the puck spilled out in front of the goal. Screws can be loose, cannons can be loose and, I am told, women can be loose. In this case it was the puck which was loose. Loose as a goose in fact. But Bison could not put it through the pipes. Moments later another shot was blocked by Raszka. The puck dropped to the ice in front of the crease as before and a mêlée of enormous, gargantuan, colossal, stupendous, gigantic and brobdingnagian (yes that is a real word) proportions developed. Once again the Tigers’ defence managed to eventually clear it and the scoreboard remained at 1-4.

Sad to relate the highlight of the period for the Bison backers was not a goal, but another incident, this time an unseemly altercation of the most opprobrious variety. Balmer and Heywood came together after the former had punched or pushed the latter (opinions varied). The blood lust of the crowd must have come from watching too many films of the calibre of “Django Unchained”, “The Wild Bunch” and “Cannibal Holocaust”. There was much whoopin’ and a hollerin’ from the crowd, but, alas, their insatiable craving for violence remained unfulfilled as in steamed the officials and doled out penalties to the would be pugilists without a meaty punch being thrown.

The final buzzer sounded as the clock ticked away to 0:00 remaining in the period and Bison backers were left to muse over their heaviest home ice defeat for quite some time. Never mind. It’s a long season and one swallow does not make a summer. The election of the Top Bananas is all that remained. The award of boxes of beers to Satek for the Tigers and Bison’s General Grant Rounding rounded off the proceedings.

Fog on the Tyne is All Mine All Mine

Bison 5 Guildford Flames 1

3/9/16

Remember Randy Crawford? She had a big hit in 1981 with a cover of the song “Rainy Night in Georgia”. Well parallels can be drawn with last night’s season opener pitching the league champions Basingstoke Bison against the EPL Cup and Playoff winners the Guildford Flames – we had a “foggy night in Basingstoke”. The less said about the farce of the structurally defective building, the foggy icepad and perpetually steamed up plexi, which rendered the game unwatchable from several of the blocks, the better. Everyone who was there knows what I am talking about. Planet Ice – sort it! It was an embarrassment. Anyway there was actually a game played, despite the fact that many people who were there probably saw as much as those who were not there at all. Hopefully, my humble account will render those whose optical experience was severely impinged upon slightly better informed concerning the proceedings of the night.

Down went the puck and P1 opened. It took Bison just under a minute to snatch the lead. They had hardly allowed the Flames out of their half with a tactic of aggressive forechecking. And it paid off when Stuart “The Cat” Mogg fired in a shot from just inside the blue line. Ivan/Vanya Antonov got a piece of it before Petr Polodna put it past goaltender Michael Will and over the line. It was a bally good goal. Just the ticket you might say, dash it all. The mood in the away block was one of great pathos. For the avoidance of doubt Pathos was not one of the three musketeers - that was Porthos. 1-0 Bison.

The Flames came back into the game on 8:19 with a power play goal scored in a 5 on 3. With a cross checking Long Ciaron Long and a hooking Tomas “Grandmaster” Karpov banged up the Flames worked the two man advantage to perfection. With Tom Duggan and Jens Eriksen combining to fashion a wide open back door opportunity for Danny Meyers. He cracked the puck home by way of a clapper and it was 1-1.

It didn’t take Bison long to resnatch the lead – less than 4 minutes to be precise. According to Edward Lear the owl and the pussy cat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat. On 12:06 the Flames D also went, not to sea but to pot. General Grant Rounding slipped the puck to Karpov, who was completely unmarked. He had dodged the Flames’ defence as skilfully as a couch potato would slalom past the lettuce and grated carrots at a buffet lunch. He set off across the face of the goal and backhanded a 5-holer. 2-1 Bison.

3 minutes later the Flames were undone once more. Caught with their trousers down, they conceded that ignominious of all goals – a shortie. Karpov was called for tripping. As this was Bison’s 4^th penalty of the game we wondered whether it was a deliberate ploy so they could practice their penalty kill. The Flames found themselves over committed in attack so that when René Jarolin broke forward on the left wing with Aaron “Billy” Connolly in support they could boast only a solitary D-man to cover both Bison forwards. The Bison men precipitated towards the goal like a couple of gold prospectors rushing to the Klondike circa 1897. Jarolin looked up, moved forwards and then squared the puck to Connolly, who rifled a shot towards goal. Billy saw the puck passanda the bar and into the net. Blistering Biriyanis! What a goal. And a goal which curried great favour with the crowd who bubbled over like an overheated saucepan of chicken vindaloo. 3-1 Bison and oh dear Flames.

So ended the period with Bison sitting pretty, but there was a long road still to navigate before the final curtain and, although the short handed goal had added insult to injury to the visitors, it was no good crying over spilt milk. It was back to the drawing board for the Flames. The ball was now back in their court and they would have to get themselves into gear and firing on all cylinders to pull the iron out of the fire or Bison would foreclose on the Flames’ mortgage. It wasn’t going to be a piece of cake and they couldn’t cut corners. They had to step up to the plate and give Bison a taste of their own medicine or they would miss the boat. (15 idioms in one paragraph – not bad, eh? However, what did it all mean? Who knows?).

As it proved, the Flames did not step up to the plate or anything else for that matter and, once again, found themselves soundly spanked by bad defending on 24:02. It is widely known that the Dodo, a flightless bird native to the island of Mauritius, is now extinct. It is thought that the last one fell of its perch in 1681. Look for one today, either on Mauritius or in Basingstoke, and you will be engaging in a fruitless search, especially in the latterly mentioned metropolis. Similarly had you looked for a Flames’ defenceman in the 24th minute at Planet Ice last night, your quest would have resulted in a comparable lack of success. The D was completely absent when Desperate Dan Davies fired a pin point accurate pass down the centre of the ice to an unmarked Jarolin. He set off over the blue line and then cracked in a slapshot over the shoulder of Will, who may have been willing, but with all the will in the world, couldn’t stop it. He must by now have been wishing that he had written his will because impending doom for the Guildford icemen seemed to be fast approaching. An assist also to Connolly. 4-1 Bison.

Despite their best efforts the Flames could not find a way through and the period was played out with no further scoring. But shortly after the opening of the 3^rd period there was more Ooo Betty defending from the visitors. Polodna carried the puck along the right wing and into the corner. It appeared that the covering defenceman had him well boxed in, but suddenly the puck emerged – Polodna had manged to squirt a brilliant pass across ice to the centre of the goal area. The goaltender must have thought he was seeing double as both Antonovs (Ivan and Vanya) appeared in front of him. As described by the Bespectacled Youth “he dangled the jock strap off the nettie” and scored. 5-1 Bison.

With the 5^th Bison goal blood drained from the Flames’ chances of winning the game, which now took on a pallid, cadaverous and positively sepulchrally wraithlike look. The bell was tolling. They could make no impression in the remaining 14 minutes and the game ended in ignominious defeat.

Men of the match were Ben Campbell (remember Glencoe – never trust a Campbell) and the Bison award was shared between Ivan and Vanya Antonov, who received half a box of beers each.

We're All Going to Coventry La-la-la-la, La-la-la-la

Bison 5 Manchester Phoenix 2 (aggregate 7-3)

EPL Playoff quarter final 2^nd leg

27/3/16

What is following Bison all about? On the ice it’s fast competitive EPL hockey, breathtaking skating and stick handling skills, netminder heroics, unseemly altercations of the most opprobrious variety (OK punch ups), breaking down Zambonis, blind men in black and white striped shirts, the superstitious routines of Rabbits’ Foot Joe Baird. Off ice it’s outrageous road trip behaviour from the Bearded Rabble Rouser of Block A, purple throbbing vein outbursts from the Howling Man of Block C, obscure rules we never knew existed shouted out by the Bespectacled Youth, Mystic Jo’s wayward predictions, Bavy’s hilarious song choices, “The Great Escape”, the incoherent ramblings of Hockeybloke match reports and, if you’re reading this, you must clearly be one of that small band who is prepared to waste 5 minutes of your life every Sunday, as these off-the-wall reports bring you inaccurate game descriptions wallowing in alliteration, bizarre imagery and obscure analogies.  But most of all following Bison is about the camaraderie of the hockey family – that strange mixed bag of folk of all ages, shapes and sizes united in one common cause – to give our red raw larynx support to the best team in the EPL (yes I can say that without fear of bias). And every time Bison score those Basingstoke Bison backers become a bunch of bellicose, boisterous, bonkers blokes and birds bellowing and bawling their bacchanalia bender-esque brand of barking-madness. And so it was with mixed feelings that we trudged away from Planet Ice at the end of last night’s game. Delirious that the boys had qualified for the Playoff semi-finals, but saddened beyond consolation that it would be another 5 months before we would experience the match day delights our tired old barn has to offer, featuring soggy Pukka pies with unidentifiable fillings, a leaky roof, cobwebs in the safety netting, crumbling ice, malfunctioning scoreboards, invisible red and blue lines, sticky rubber flooring. But hey! It’s our barn and we will miss it.

And so to the game. All Bison had to do was avoid a defeat to qualify for Coventry. A hard fought 2-1 road win in Deeside the night before, characterised by goaltender heroics from Men of the Match Steve Fone and Tomas Hiadlovsky, which prevented a cricket score - I am not sure why people say that as a cricket score in typically 153 for 6, which means nothing in hockey terms. In the EPL anyone can beat anyone, so could the Phoenix rise from the ashes and put out Bison or could Bison make it 8 wins out of 8 for the season against the itinerant Mancunians? Prey read on, dear reader, and I will reveal all.

The first period was played with Bison totally in control. In fact it wasn’t until the 10^th minute that Tomas Hiadlovsky had to make a save, this being a stick save from someone or other. I couldn’t identify him as the name on his shirt was in purple on a black background – who designed those shirts?

4 minutes later Bison went ahead. Long Ciaron Long took possession of the puck on the left wing. He nearly lost it but didn’t. He then skated in on goal and unleashed a shot from the slot which rebounded off netman Steve Fone, who couldn’t freeze it. “It’s loose,” shouted the Man in the Charlestown Chiefs shirt, as if he wished to alert the players who maybe hadn’t noticed. But indeed they had noticed. What we then saw was a maniacal maelstrom, a frenzied fracas and a gargantuan get-stuck-in until on came the red light – it was a goal. In all the excitement I must confess I was unable to identify the scorer, however, such was announced as René Jarolin, which gave his admirers, both overt and covert, among the crowd a feeling of hitherto unexperienced satisfaction. Long Ciaron picked up an assist of course and so did Alan “Prairie Dog” Lack, who I concluded must have had a stab at the puck during the blue paint scramble. 1-0 Bison.

The 1^st period ended with Bison 1-0 up in the game and 3-1 on aggregate. There was still all to play for. The players reappeared for the 2^nd and it seemed that Bison would have no chance of increasing their lead as there was no goal for them to shoot into (see below). The rink staff hadn’t brought back the net as they were busy repairing the boarding, which necessitated the drafting in of accomplished DIY-er, Duracell Man, although not Jon Baston with his Black and Decker Workmate (see previous report).

Alas for the hapless telephonically named Phoenix netman, the goal reappeared and it took only 25 seconds for him to fail in his duty to protect it. But his D should take the blame for this one as a loose pass intended to send the puck out of the Phoenix defensive zone was intercepted by Tomas “Grandmaster” Karpov before it crossed the point where the blue line should be (see comments above). He swiveled on the puck, turning through 180˚, and now faced the goal with no-one to challenge him. He skated forward and unleashed an unstoppable wrist shot past Fone. 2-0 Bison and “Oooo Betty” Phoenix.

Things were not looking good for the Phoenix. At an aggregate of 1-4 down to the EPL champions (home record 24 and 3) and a verses Bison record of 0 and 7 this season, outplayed and outshot, outclassed and outmuscled, out of sorts and out to lunch for the 2^nd goal they needed to pull a rabbit out of the hat or they would be down and out and out of the playoffs. A Phoenix rabbit duly appeared. On 34 minutes Stanislav Gron saw his shot saved by Hiadlovsky, who deflected the puck wide to his right, but there was Michal Satek (I’m not going to bother putting the accents on his surname as there are too many of them) to hammer home the rebound. A further assist to James Neil. 1-2 and a chink of light at the end of the tunnel.

A couple of minutes later the Howling Man of Block C became mildly agitated. OK that’s a bit of an understatement. In his last outburst of the season, against what I know not, he scaled new heights of rage. We saw the usual changed of colour of his bald patch from pink to dark cerise, we heard the incomprehensible shouting, we saw the throbbing veins standing out on his temple, but this time his waved his arms in the air to add emphasis to what I would guess was his disagreement to a refereeing decision (aren't they always?). But he calmed down once his opinion had been broadcast and was soon transformed from a state of agony to one of ecstasy as Bison bagged a 3^rd goal. A pass from Alan “Prairie Dog” Lack set Shaun “the Sheep” Thompson on his way with the follically challenged Matt Towlaski, the man who sounds like an import but isn't, in support for a 2 on 1. Thompson drew the goaltender as the covering D-man remained central. He then passed to a back door lurking Towlaski, who, instead of shooting, cut back inside and, with Tommo now screening Fone, unleashed his shot. Fone got a piece of it, but, alas for the hapless netman, not a big enough piece. The puck slid over the line and it was 3-1 on the night and 5-2 on aggregate. Morose, miserable and melancholic are words which could be used to accurately describe the mood in the away block, but they carried on drumming. There were no more goals in the period and their team trooped back to the locker room. Although still in with a chance, they would need a monumental effort in P3.

We saw a strange sight immediately prior to the commencement of P3. Referee Miller was building a snowman on the ice. Didn’t he realise that there was an important game to referee? Well he must have because the snowman was never completed. It was removed on a shovel before he could bedeck it with a scarf and put in a carrot for a nose and, playtime over, Mr. Miller called the teams together for the face off.

With 20 minutes remaining could the Phoenix pull another rabbit out of the hat? Indeed they could. On 48 minutes Gareth O’Flaherty (is he Irish or is he Welsh?) ran in a puck which had rebounded off the post. James Archer with an assist. It was now 3-2 Bison with 12 minutes to play and a glimmer of hope. Phoenix needed to keep their heads, keep it tight, keep it up, keep a tight ship and keep calm. To hand back the initiative to Bison now would have been as undesirable as the Bearded Rabble Rouser of Block A returning home to find his eccentric butler feeding a feast of caviar, smoked salmon, foie gras and quail’s eggs to his iguana. But that is exactly what happened, certainly the former and maybe even the latter. 

 

A lapse of concentration condemned the Phoenix, not to be hanged, but to another 2 on 1 against. Put in by Jarolin, Grant Rounding raced forward with Cuddly Joe Greener in support. Rounding’s dashing dash could certainly not be described as indolent, nor even insolent, insular or insidious, but it did knock the Phoenix D insensible and left them feeling insignificant, insulted and inconsolable and their goaltender insane with indignation. Rounding decided he didn’t need Greener as he shaped to shoot. Had the Fone been Pavaroti he would have had a good chance of blocking the goal completely and stopping the shot. However, the renowned corpulent tenor was not icing. Well how could he be? He is no longer in the land of the living and, had he been, he would have been elsewhere - probably singing or eating. But I have gone off on a red herring (which Pavarotti would have eaten as well). The Springbok sniper fired an unstoppable wrist shot past Fone and it was 4-2 Bison.

Bison sewed it up on 52 minutes with goal number 5 on the night to give them a 7-3 lead, not unassailable but certainly as difficult to assail as the north face of the Eiger. Long Ciaron Long took possession of the puck on the left wing and skated in on goal in much the same way as he had done for the first goal. He unleashed a shot which rebounded off Fone. What happened next could be described as a battle royal in front of goal, except that no soldiers, kings or queens were involved. Alan Lack did not lack the wherewithal to force the puck over the line from the blue paint scramble and it was 5-2 Bison.

With 8 minutes to play and only 4 goals needed could Phoenix come back from this? Imagine you’re at a Metallica concert. On stage comes special guest Alan A’Dale, plugs into a Marshall stack and delivers a shredding lute solo. Likely to happen? No. And neither were Phoenix coming back from this dire position. The final buzzer buzzed 8 minutes later and it was Bison who were off to Coventry. The crowd were too busy with “The Great Escape”. No one thought of singing ♫“We’re all going to Coventry, we’re all going to Coventry. La-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.”♫, which might have sounded quite good with Alan A'Dale providing musical accompaniment. No not really. It’s a moronic song and doesn’t scan properly with Coventry substituted for Wembley – one too many syllables. Never mind Bison were indeed going to Coventry and the Phoenix season was sadly over.

A final word for Bison’s opponents – the Manchester Phoenix. They have endured a very difficult season of playing far from home, short benching for much of the time and financially rocky. But they managed to make it to the end of the season, fulfilling all their fixtures, and won the Fair Play award for the least number of penalty minutes in the season, an award the Sheffield Steeldogs are never likely to win. The Phoenix play fair competitive hockey and are a credit the EPL, as are their fans, always friendly, welcoming and as fair minded as any biased sports fan could be, unlike some I could mention! I just wish they’d stop banging those bloody drums.