Bison Bag the Points but Dynamos Grab the Plaudits

Bison 5 Invicta Dynamos 3

27/10/18

According to Leonard Cohen, there are heroes in the seaweed and Suzanne would show you where to look amongst the garbage and the flowers (Eh? See footnote 1). Well there were heroes at Planet Ice last night also. Bison may have bagged the points, but the short benched Mos (only 12 skaters), coming off the back of a 13-1 annihilation last time out, put in a spirited performance and, despite being outshot by 45-22, came away with a very respectable defeat.

P1 opened and goal no.1 of the evening arrived on 9:52 and it was the result of an odd man rush. An odd what? In case, dear reader, you are unfamiliar with hockey parlance an odd man rush is where the attacking forwards outnumber the D-men of the opposition – in this case 3-2. It is not a surge forward by a peculiar, idiosyncratic individual. I wonder if you have odd woman rushes in ladies hockey. This is all by the by. Let’s us return to the action. The surge forward was executed by the trio of Danny Ingoldsby, Hallum Wilson and George Norcliffe. The former hammered forward and passed inside to the middle named. He fired in a shot which netman Connor Morris saved. Back in 1984 Bananarama told us that Robert de Niro was waiting …. and speaking Italian – a fine example of male multi tasking I’m sure you will agree. As the puck ricocheted off the pad of Morris someone was waiting at the back door. Was it Robert de Niro? No it was the latter named, namely Gordon Norcliffe, not speaking Italian but instead smashing the puck into an empty net. 1-0 Bison. The sole confederate was announced as Ingoldsby with the emphasis on the middle syllable thus InGOLDsby as opposed to INgoldsby, which I always thought it was. Never mind. Strangely enough no assist to Wilson. Why? Who can tell?

On 16:35 it was 2-0 as a result of an Ooo Betty moment for the hapless Morris, who otherwise didn’t put a foot, skate, blocker or catcher wrong all evening. Set up by a combination of Alex Sampford and Hallum Wilson, Danny Ingoldsby (sorry I meant InGOLDsby) cut in towards goal from the left wing. The puck left his stick. Suddenly it was over the line, the red light had come on and Referee Evans’s hand had become flat and pointy in a netwards direction. Close observers confirmed to me that it had hit Morris’s back and gone in. How chunderous for the poor fellow. 2-0 Bison. By the way if you want to know the origin of the word chunder see footnote 2.

P1 ended with Bison in the driving seat, having outshot the Mos by 16-8. But the Kentish visitors had no intention of rolling over and having their tummies tickled. Indeed no. They surged back into contention with a goal on 1:38 of the 2^nd. It was a scrappy affair with a Chuckle Brothers “to me to you to me” air about it with Brandon Miles eventually forcing it over the line past Alex “Mittens” Mettam, who made two saves but not a third. Louis Colvin and Matt Foord, who always seems to have one too many Os in his name for my liking, were declared assistants. 2-1.

Bison continued to dominate play, but could not find a way of breaching the Morris pipes for a P2 goal. It was looking like it was going to be the hop pickers’ period. That is until the last minute when a goal threatened to cause a Morris family rift as Liam put one past brother Connor. Set up by Tom “Wreck-it” Ralph, Doc Russ Cowley fired one in. Morris the Younger saved the shot with his pad, but, much to his chagrin, the puck flew wide straight to Morris the Elder. The latter seemed to have all the time in the world as the Mos D was nowhere to be seen. Were they a bunch of Miss Muffetts, who on realising that a spider had sat down beside her, was frightened away? Probably not as I saw no curds, whey or arachnids. Morris the Younger attempted to block the goal. The Dynamos faithful would have preferred him to have possessed the physical attributes of Oliver Hardy over those of Stan Laurel. But he was something in between. In this case that something in between proved inadequate and the goal remained only partially blocked. Morris the Elder’s finish was cool and composed, calm and canny, considered and calculated, but at the same time cruel and crushing for his hapless sibling. It was an over the shoulder number into the top corner. No brotherly consideration had been shown. 3-1 Bison.

 

But the Mos were not down among the dead men yet and shortly after we moved into P3 they pegged it back once more. With Michal Klejna banged up for charging (oh no it wasn’t) Martins Susters, who sounds like an import but isn’t and who also sounds like multiple people with Ss on the end of both his names, but who is actually only one person, combined with Andrew Munro, who is definitely only one person, to set up Edmund (not Blackadder) Piačka, also one person. He fired in a splendid wrist shot. 3-2.

1:27 later Bison restored their 2 goal advantage. Danny InGOLDsby, still retaining the emphasis on the middle syllable of his name, passed from the right wing inside to Doc Cowley, who in turn passed to Wreck-it Ralph. The Mos D had once again been caught with their trousers down as Wreck-it Ralph rifled home and, in doing so, elicited a rumbustious show of approbation from the Bison backers. In fact, the Bison goal celebration was gigantic and titanic, stupendous and tumultuous, enormous and voluminous. Hats were thrown into the air. 4-2 Bison.

A flurry of penalties was soon to feature. On 53:18 Chris Cooke hammered into Brandon Miles, who clearly regarded this as a trifle unsporting and attempted to duff the D-man up. However, the former had by then collapsed face down on the ice like a sack of potatoes and the latter could only stand over him and deliver a couple of half heated thumps into the back of the prostrate form beneath. That was enough for Referee Evans. “Oi you geezers”, he may have shouted. “Porridge for you. Are you going quietly or do I have to get Plod in?” They went quietly.

27seconds into the penalty Callum Best slashed the stick out of Coach Tait’s hands, sending the twig spinning to the ice, but his action wasn’t enough to halt the forward momentum of the Bison attack. Delayed penalty call surely? But no. Mr Evans flew into a wild state of panic and blew his whistle. This premature action must surely have left the hapless official purple with embarrassment as if caught with spinach adhering to his front teeth at a job interview. With Best having his collar felt it was 4 on 3. A re-equipped Coach Tait combined with Klejna to set up Adam Jones for an Ooo Mr Rigsby wrist shot from just inside the blue line.

The puck hurtled past the hapless netman faster than Rosa “Zazel” Richter in full flight. (Who? She was the first human cannon ball in 1877 – I’ve told you that before). 5-2 Bison.

The game moved towards a conclusion, but all was not yet done. With 21 seconds remaining the Mos bagged another. Susters passed out from behind the goal line and the puck was snapped home. Back in the 1958 the Monotones sang “I wonder, wonder who, mmbadoo-ooh, who, who wrote the book of love”. When the Mos scored I was similarly left wondering, not about the book of love, but rather about the identity of the scorer. It turned out to be Piačka with a second assist going to Colvin. 5-3

Time out Mos. Goaltender pulled. 21 seconds of 6 on 5. Could they score twice in 21 seconds? Surely not. As it turned out, no fruit was borne, not even the pip of a fruit. The final buzzer sounded and the fat lady was singing. Top bananas were elected. Colvin with 2 assists grabbed the beers for the Mos and Danny InGOLDsby with a 1+2 evening received the Bison acclamation.

Footnote 1 : Leonard Cohen was a Canadian musician, songwriter and poet, who wrote and recorded a song called Suzanne in 1967. You don’t have to understand the meaning of the words to appreciate it as a work of poetical genius.

Footnote 2 : In multi-decked convict ships transporting the nation’s ne’er-do-wells to Australia in the 18^th and 19^th centuries anyone being sick over the side of the ship would shout a warning of “Watch out under!” in case there might be someone on a lower deck with his head poking out. In time the warning was shortened to “CHUNDER!”

5 Assists Bordowski Tantalises the Tigers

Bison 6 Telford Tigers 2

6/10/18

In 1861 one of Charles Dickens’s greatest novels was published. It was, of course, Great Expectations, chronicling the journey of Philip Pirrip from orphan to gentleman courtesy of a mysterious benefactor, who turned out not to be Abel Magwitch not Miss Havisham (oh sorry I’ve given the story away). Last night we flocked to Planet Ice with similar great expectations of seeing a tough and competitive hockey game. Well why wouldn’t we? The visitors were the mighty Telford Tigers, the last winners of the EPL and the reigning NIHL North play off champions bolstered by the arrival (finally) of Canadian colossus Doug Clarkson (not to be confused with Jeremy Clarkson who would be of no benefit to them). Alas by the end of the evening our great expectations remained unfulfilled as the now impecunious Tigers put in a performance more akin to great expectorations.

P1 opened and 20 minutes of play later our great expectations appeared to be well on the way to fulfilment. It had been a very even period and it ended 1-1. Bison went ahead on 10:44. It was a powerplay goal with Danny Rose banged up for tripping. Don’t confuse him with Danny Rose of Tottenham Hotspur, who, as surely as Jeremy and Doug Clarkson are different people, so are the two Danny Roses. Dangling Dick Bordowski set Tom “Wreck-it” Ralph on his way over the blue line. From a position on the boards Ralph arrowed a pass almost back to the blue line where Doc Russ Cowley was waiting. The Doc didn’t ditheringly dilly-dally or delay. He decisively drove a deadly wrist shot past an astonished Dennis Bell in the Tigers’ net. 1-0 Bison.

The dictionary describes a wrestling hold as “a method of seizing an opponent and keeping him in control”. That’s exactly what Referee Matthews saw Hallum Wilson doing on 15:38. The would be Mick McManus was ordered to the box. 25 seconds later Doc Cowley had his collar felt for slashing. It was a 5 on 3. The Tigers made it count when the lumbering Doug Clarkson showed that he may have lost his fitness (at least for the time being) but he hasn’t lost his shooting accuracy as he banged a shot past Dan “The Beast” Weller-Evans in the Bison net. His solitary goal scoring collaborator was identified as Rick Plant.

P1 was played out to a conclusion. P2 was not what we were expecting. Bison stepped up a gear while the Tigers stepped down a gear and almost went into neutral. A pulsating period of purple plays produced a pair of plum efforts for the homesters as they outshot their fast fading opponents by 16 to 5 and surged into a 3-1 lead. The first of these two scores came on 28:19. It was a power play goal with Scott McKenzie in the slammer for slashing. By the way don’t confuse him with the other Scott McKenzie, who had a big hit in 1967 with “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)”. His real name was not very showbiz. It was Philip Wallach Blondheim III and sadly he is no longer in the land of the living, so clearly he wasn’t the bloke in the box on 27:16. Set up by Adam Jones, Coach Tait shot from wide to the goaltender’s left. Netman Bell made what should have been an Ooo Matron save, but alas for him it was an Ooo Betty one as he kicked the shot straight to Michal Klejna at the back door and the Slovak sniper tapped in. 2-1 Bison.

Out of the box came McKenzie to bolster the Tigers’ contingent on the ice, but he might just as well have been the singing Scott McKenzie, who, one would presume, being deceased, possesses no hockey talent at all and possibly never did, as only 13 seconds later he and his team mates couldn’t prevent another Bison goal. Doc Cowley won a face off. The puck squirted like a jet of toothpaste from a tube to Dangling Dick Bordowski who didn’t delay as he dispelled dalliance and dilly-dallying in directing a pass to Jay King in the slot. Caught off balance (the Great Blondin wouldn’t have been. The Great who? See footnote), the gap toothed Caledonian squeezed off an unstoppable wrist shot whilst falling to the ice. The Tigers may just as well have had Ray Charles in the net as the hapless Bell never saw the shot. On came the red light and pop went the Champagne corks in Edinburgh. 3-1 Bison.

P2 ended and P3 opened. Could the Tigers turn the tables? Well no. As it turned out they couldn’t even lay the tables as Bison powered on to clinch the game with another 3 goals to the Tigers’ one, as you shall learn by reading further and refraining from going outside to water the hanging baskets, dear reader.

On 43:34 assisted by Jones and Bordowski, Alex Sampford somehow squeezed, not the pips out of a lemon, but the puck in from behind the net, possibly banking it in off the netman’s skate. Who knows? I don’t. But what I do know is that it was now 4-1. The bell was beginning to toll for Bell.

The Tigers were not dead and buried yet. Pressing forward, Bison lost the puck enabling Andy McKinney to spear one up the middle to an all alone Clarkson. He had outstripped the Bison D not by speed of movement but by standing beyond them, which was just as well as thenceforth his movement towards the Bison goal was slow, sluggish and akin to a slothful slugabed. The mode of advancement of the lumbering giant i.e. crawling forward amoebically mattered not a jot as he beat Dan “The Beast” through 5-hole. Who needs speed when you can finish like that? 4-2.

Could this be the start of a Tigers’ revival? Well no as it happened. On 50:59 Bison bagged another causing the Tigers’ chances of winning the game to take on a pallid, cadaverous and positively sepulchrally wraithlike look. Those chances became even more Dodo-esque when Bison grabbed a 6^th. But we jump ahead, so let me tell you about the 5^th. Elliott Dewey, wearer of a number which would never have been contemplated by Rabbits’ Foot Joe Baird, namely no.13 (unlucky for some but not for him) sent Bordowski on his way. Almost pinned to the boards Dangling Dick’s dazzling deke and dangle dumfounded the dithering dummkopf D-men driving past and then saucering a pass to Sampford. This time Sampford’s method of getting the puck past Bell was much more obvious as he rifled a wrist shot high into the net. 5-2 Bison.

Bison were not done. As the game rolled towards a conclusion they bagged another to drop the aspirations of the Tigers into the untreated waste tank at a sewage treatment plant. Cowley to Bordowski, who drove a long pass into the slot to King from behind the goal. The Caledonian fired in his shot on goal. There seemed to be more people between King and the goal than the whole population of China. But there must have been a gap somewhere as the puck flew in past an unsighted Bell, who by now must have been red with embarrassment and purple with rage, if indeed it is possible to be both hues at the same time. On came the red light, out came the flat pointy hand of Ref Matthews, pop went even more Champagne corks in Edinburgh and out came the square sausages, haggis, neeps and tatties. 6-2 Bison and game over.

And so it befell those entrusted with electing Top Bananas, whoever they may have been, to discharge that very duty. Rick Plant was considered the best Tiger. Would Dangling Dick Bordowski cop the beers for his 5 assists? He may have on another night, but no. It was Dan “The Beast” Weller-Evans who earned the accolade after an absolutely Ooo Matron performance in the Bison net stopping 34 out of 36 shots to earn a save percentage of 94.44%. Blistering Biriynais!

Footnote : Charles Blondin (that’s him below) was a French tightrope walker and acrobat. He was best known for crossing the Niagara Gorge on a tightrope 1,100 ft long in 1859 and then on numerous occasions thereafter.

Essex Men Fail to Raid the Bison Larder

Bison 5 London/Romford Raiders 2

29/9/18

Holy guacamole what a feisty encounter. The Raiders, who were once the Romford Raiders, then the London Raiders and now just the Raiders, captained by ex-Bison hero Aaron “Billy” Connolly, came to Planet Ice seeking to get the Bison league programme off to a disappointing start. They failed, despite a robust attempt, as you, dear reader, will learn, albeit without any guarantee of accuracy, if you read the following humble account of the night’s proceedings.

So without further preambulation, let us journey to the 12th minute of P1. Basses can be double. So can cream, entendres, jeopardy and trouble (just ask the Clash about that last one). So it would seem can be hooking or at least in the eyes of Referee Evans, who would end the evening a discredited figure in certain spectatorial circles. On 12:27 a shrill blast from Mr. Evans’s Acme Thunderer called proceedings to a halt. Dr Russ Cowley and Blahoslav Novak had ended up in an untidy heap on the ice. (By the way is Doc Cowley a medical doctor or a PhD. Does anyone know? If it’s the latter I won’t ask him about my gammy knee). 2 minutes hooking to each.

Play continued and just before the expiry of the penalties Coach Tait found himself in possession of the puck behind the goal line. He could find no-one in front of the net to receive his killer pass until….. the doors of the penalty boxes opened and out came Cowley and Novak. The latter rejoined the play like a laggardly sluggard, whereas the former skated back into action like a cheetah on speed and as if his life depended on it. Perhaps he thought it did. Tait found the pass and the Doc, having left Novak floundering in his wake like a beached whale, sent a wrist shot arrowing into the net. 1-0 Bison and 14:35 on the clock.

3 minutes later it was 2-0. Liam “Square Sausage” Morris, whose father Frank Morris escaped from Alcatraz in 1962 (see footnote), skated in and then out in front of goal before backhandedly jabbing the puck past a startled Michael Gray, hapless custodian of the Raiders’ cage. Adam Jones and Sam Smith were declared assistants for the goal. Jones? Smith? Sounds like a pair of pseudonyms to me.

And without further scoring the period ended. 2-0 to Bison and a shot count of 19-6 in their favour. What could possibly go wrong?

P2 opened and on 24:57 something did go wrong. George Norcliffe caught Dangerous Dan Scott with a high stick. The Raiders fans, in front of whom the incident had occurred, may have considered that this was a deed so malodorous and malevolent that 10 years on Devil’s Island would have been an appropriate punishment, as they observed with horror corpuscular material gushing from the side of Scott’s face. Would he even live? Of course – we are talking about Dan Scott who would require nothing more than an Elastoplast for a broken leg. Up went the referee’s hands. Was he trying to climb an imaginary rope? No. High sticks 5 + match for Norcliffe.

Here was the Raiders’ opportunity – a 5 minute power play. Well they couldn’t even get a worthwhile shot on goal during the first 3 minutes of the PP and very nearly conceded a shortie as an in on goal Dangling Dick Bordowski forced a save from Gray. But then the Bison house came tumbling down like a 20 storey sky scraper built over a sinkhole. In 18 seconds of play the score went from 2-0 to 2-2. Ooo Betty. First Aaron “Billy” Connolly cut in from the right wing and unleashed a wrist shot for 2-1. Liam Chong and Dan Scott were the assistants (it was an all Bison old boys goal). Then a neat move through the middle of the Bison D ended with Jake Sylvester smashing home. Connolly and Scott were the assistants. Damn those Bison alumni.

Things were in the ascendancy for the Raiders, but not for long. Their hopes of reaching infinity and beyond stayed as unfulfilled as those of Buzz Lightyear. Slash has many meanings, one of which is “to make slits in a garment to show an underlying fabric”. That’s not what happened on 31:21. It was more a case of “to lay about someone with sharp, sweeping strokes”. And that is what Referee Evans adjudged Brandon Ayliffe to have done. “It’s a stretch of solitary for you, me old China,” said Mr. Evans. And off to the box went Aycliffe to reflect on the consequences of his appalling conduct, albeit not for long as within 8 seconds of play the Gray pipes had been breached once more, plunging the hapless goaltender and possibly also Ayliffe into a state of funereal perturbation. Coach Tait fired in a pass from the left wing to Alex Sampford in front of goal. On August 11^th 1911 the most audacious heist in the history of art took place when Vincenzo Perugia stole the Mona Lisa from the Louvre (see footnote 2). Just as the Mona Lisa had gone missing on that day in August 1911, so the Raiders D also went missing on 31:29 of P2, leaving Alex Sampford to backhand the puck past Gray. Opinions varied as to whether the puck had gone in through a hole in the side netting. Certainly there was a hole, just as there were 4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire, according to the Beatles, which had to be subsequently repaired, but the Evans hand remained flat and netwardsly pointing. “It was a good goal”, declared Mr Evans. He would have staked his life on it, but was not called to do so. An assist also to Danny Ingoldsby. 3-2 Bison.

Repairs to the net were made by Lino Strain, who I presume must have learned knot tie-ing in the Scouts. Was it a sheepshank, a clove hitch or a reef knot that he expertly executed with his piece of string? I can throw no light on that, but I can say that the net held for the rest of the game.

P2 ended and P3 opened. The final epoch was to be one littered with penalties, strange refereeing decisions and a fight. Before I relate the disgraceful and indeed malevolent affair of the most violent variety which was the fight, I will tell you that a Bison goal was scored on 46:06 or rather it wasn’t. A Jay King shot came in. It hit the goaltender, looped up and there on the doorstep was Dangling Dick Bordowski, who dangled his twig and put it in. However, although the goal was initially given, it was chalked off, marked off, struck off, washed off, scrubbed off, rubbed out, wiped out, weeded out, crossed out, abolished, annulled, deleted, erased, cancelled, voided, eliminated and called “no”, not to mention purged, obliterated and expunged from the records or at least it would have been had it been recorded at all. Why? Who can tell?

On to the fight, which occurred in the 51^st minute. I was looking elsewhere at the time, but I was assured by the Man with 3 Ear-rings that Callum Wells attempted to cut down Adam Jones like a lumberjack felling a tree by wildly swinging his stick into the back of the innocent D-man. Perhaps he should have shouted “TIMBER!” whilst doing so. Down went sticks, off came gloves and hats. The pugilists squared up to each other as in the picture below. The crowd bayed for blood. Was it going to be like a scene from Django Unchained? Nothing short of an unfettered orgy of blood and guts violence was what they needed to satisfy their unnatural animalistic craving. Alas no. The pugilistic encounter was over very quickly with Wells the victor, leaving the Bison crowd wallowing in a cesspool of unfulfilled blood lust. 2 + 2 for fighting each.

Things were getting angry. Tempers were fraying, just like the string of the goal nets. What would happen next? The answer is that Bison sealed the victory with 2 quickfire goals in 34 seconds in the 53^rd minute. In a 4 on 4 on 53:16 Coach Tait assisted by Doc Cowley brought down his lumber and leathered the rubber into the stringbag via the metalwork. The net had stood firm. We expected it to disintegrate sending showers of perished string scattering to the ice, but this did not occur. 4-2 Bison.

The 5^th goal was kickass as far as Bison were concerned fo’shizzle and a kick in the unmentionables as far as the Raiders were concerned. It was all but over. And so it proved with the game proceeding to a conclusion without further scoring. Back to Essex went the Raiders, having failed to raid. Top Bananas were elected – Connolly for the Raiders and Sampford for Bison.

Footnote 1 : In 1962 Frank Morris (that's him below) and the Anglin brothers executed an audacious escape from island prison Alcatraz in inflatable rubber dinghies made of glued together raincoats. They were never seen again. OK that Frank Morris wasn’t Liam’s dad. He was another Frank Morris.

Footnote 2 : Theft of the Mona Lisa. On August 11th 1911 Vincenzo Perugia (that’s him below) hid in the Louvre until it closed for the night. He then removed the Mona Lisa, also known as La Gioconda, from its frame. When the gallery reopened he simply walked out with the painting under his smock, attracting no attention. He was caught and the painting recovered 2 years later when he contacted a Florence art dealer in attempt to claim a 500,000 lire reward for returning the Mona Lisa to Italy.