It was a steamy Tuesday night, with temperatures reaching 25 degrees in March, but that didn’t slow down the play. Another great turnout with 2 full teams, The games were fast, the boys trading goals back and forth all night. At the end of the night, there was no clear winner, as both games ended in a tie, 6-6 and 8-8 respectively. Some great teams selected by Soupy, as he was quick to point out after hockey, he’s not one to shy away from taking credit.
Curly Fries – Terror in Net, Sunny, Bullwinkle, Hobbs, Curly, Big Ned, Chevy, Professor, Tonto
Tuesday saw the return of Tomcats legends Sunny and Bullwinkle, both fresh off injury, and neither showed any signs of rust.
It’s seems the injection of youth has had an impact on the beer consumption, as stated by Sunny, “when I left a month ago, we were flooded with beer, and now we’re down to 1 case!” This is what we play for though, a cold one or 2 after on stage, great to see the tomcats staying and enjoying a beverage! Some say it’s because of Terror, some say it’s Matador, either way, I love to see it!
With that being said, if you missed your beer night, be sure to bring it out before the end of the year, we will need beer for the last few weeks and tourney. Or if you haven’t brought out a case for a while, well, you know what to do…
Topcat of the night went to The Professor, battling hard, blocking shots and even added a goal or 2, great work Prof! Here he is during his post game Snowpants interview…
Waldo, who was shut down for the night by his tournament captain Soupy, to rest up and not get injured before the big day, surprised the boys and showed up for some beers afterwards looking slick! Awesome to see him fitting right in!
Swifty with a great tee, ready for golf season!
Only 2 weeks of hockey left before the tourney, let’s finish the year off strong!
Well folks, its finally here, the day you all have been waiting for…tomcats Tourney Draft Day. 4 teams, 1 Stanleys Cup Champion, and a whole lot a great memories. We’ll get to the teams in a minute, but first, we’ve got to talk about the action on the Kapusta floor last night.
Terrors Tongue Ticklers – Terror in Net, Hobbs, Big Ned, Foreman, Chevy, Tonto, Snowy, Swifty, Shaft
2 full benches, and some of the best talent the Tomcats have seen in years. Rumour has it; the reason Soupy wanted to be a captain for the tourney was because he couldn’t take the shame of his draft stock plummeting to a bottom 4th rounder! 2 tight games with the Finger Bangers taking both games, 6-5 and 5-4 respectively. A new award was presented for the first time, the “Topcat of the Night” went to Big Ned, for his beauty dangles, and highlight reel goals, not to mention bringing out 2 new young players to play in the tourney and potential regular tomcats.
Terror sporting his new custom tomcats shirt
The real action happened afterwards with the long-awaited tourney draft. The 4 Captains joined center court and made their picks, with 4 of the closest teams in terms of talent in years. Speculation coming in was that some of the new youth this year would be first round picks, but the Captains choose 4 veterans over the young bucks to the lead their teams. The marquee 1st overall pick, Matador left no one surprised, with his tenacious drive on the floor, and top-notch play making; he was the undisputed number 1 coming in. Some might say, the Auston Matthews of the draft. A disgruntled soupy remarked, “he’s more like an Alexandre Daigle in my eyes!” I guess we’ll wait and see…
The teams are as follows…
Soupy’s Sun Devils
Waldo
Bullwinkle
Curly
Soupy
Dillon
Rocky
Flower
Hobbs’ Hooter Hunters
Hobbs
Snowpants
Tonto
La Bamba
Killer
Smiley
Terror
Big Ned Gators
Big Ned
Foreman
Shack
Matador
Swifty
Kamikaze
Bender
Chevy’s Backdoor Bandits
Chevy
Sunny
Professor
Sweets
Animal
Chico
Falcon
Looking forward to a great day! In case you’ve been living under a rock for the past 2 months, you’ll know that the tournament goes April 18, at 830 AM SHARP!
A new format will be used for this year where each team plays the other teams, then based on that result, teams will be ranked 1-4. We will then go into a Round Robin format (1 vs 4, 2 vs 3) and then play a consolation game for 3rd place, followed by the Championship. All games except the championship game will be 2, 10-minute periods. The Championship game will be 2, 12-minute periods.
Only 3 more weeks of hockey left before the tourney, let’s have some good turnouts to round out the year!
Spring break struck like a bad case of the Mondays – half the crew vanished to warmer shores, leaving our hallowed Kapusta Kow Palace feeling like a ghost town with better ventilation. But fear not, you magnificent misfits: the show went on with two full (if slightly skeletal) teams, and holy puck, did the vibe shift. With two fresh-faced recruits crashing the party – Curly and The Foreman, courtesy of Big Ned’s recruiter radar – the average Tomcat age cratered a full decade overnight.
Curly, Big Ned and The Foreman
The veterans still standing? They felt it immediately. “We’re playing against kids who think ‘vintage’ means last year’s iPhone,” grizzled Tomcat legend Tonto muttered between shifts. The pace? Blistering. The level? Leaping. Shots flew harder, legs churned faster, and the old guard suddenly realized they weren’t just mentoring – they were getting schooled by their own future replacements. (Classic tomcat move: the litter grows up, gets faster, and starts eyeing your spot on the stage.)
The new blood blended in like they’d been dodging slapshots for years. Curly arrived curly-haired and curly-legged, terrorizing defenders with bouncy energy. The Foreman? Already barking orders like he owns the crease (spoiler: he doesn’t… yet). And yes, the S-nickname curse continues in spirit – even if these two dodged the letter, the roster’s youth infusion is making the whole pack feel like it’s been mainlining Red Bull and regret.
The Teams:
Falcon’s Fledglings (Wearing Black – the baby-bird brigade taking flight): Falcon in net, still diving like a dad who refuses to admit he’s slowing down; his son freshly christened Dilly (because nothing says “chip off the old block” like a nickname that sounds like he’s half dill pickle, half speed demon); Hobbs (steady as ever); Snowpants (insulation failing in the spring heat); Waldo (somewhere… probably); Shack (human barricade); and new guy Curly (bouncing around like a human slinky).
Terror’s Timeless Terrors (Wearing White – the grizzled vets refusing to yield the throne): Terror in net, snarling at anything with a pulse; Animal (unleashed and unhinged); Big Ned (the proud papa who delivered the new recruits); Killer (still collecting bodies); Smiley (grinning through the chaos); Sweets (sweet moves, sweeter debut); Tonto (lone ranger on skates); and The Foreman (already supervising the youth revolution).
It was a spirited slugfest with a totally different flavor – fewer creaky knees, more blistering breakaways. Saves were everywhere (goalies earned their beer tabs tonight), shots came in hot and heavy, and both games stayed knife-edge close. White edged the first 9-7 in a back-and-forth barnburner, then took over the second period of Game Two to steal an 8-7 thriller. The Fledglings fought like hell, but the Terrors’ experience (and maybe a little veteran sorcery) tipped the scales.
After the final whistle, the surviving veterans dragged their younger legs up to the sacred Palace stage for the holy ritual: beers and bonding over pops. The chatter? All draft talk for the April 18th tournament – where picks will fall, who gets the hot new talent, and whether the old dogs can still hunt. Ten years younger on average, and suddenly everyone’s whispering about “rebuilding” like it’s the NHL. We’re still the same scrappy Tomcat crew – just with fresher claws and fewer nap breaks.
Until next Tuesday (when hopefully the spring breakers return and we age back up a bit), keep chasing that youth, you spicy strays. The Palace stage awaits your tales.
Ah, the Kapusta Kow Palace – our steamy sanctuary where the Windsor Tomcats prowl like the real deal. (Quick zoology detour: A tomcat, for the uninitiated, is a male cat, typically unneutered, known for roaming far and wide in search of scraps, scraps, and more scraps – often with a side of scrappy brawls. Sound familiar?
Our band of brothers, has been channeling that feline ferocity for 37 years, swapping alley fights for floor hockey feuds and midnight yowls for post-game pints. We’re all tomcats at heart, just with better dental plans and worse knees.)
Last night? Mother Nature cranked the thermostat, turning our gym into a sweat lodge on steroids. Shirts clung like bad exes, brows dripped like faulty faucets, and the air hung heavy with the musk of middle-aged machismo. But hey, two full teams meant zero excuses – just pure, evenly matched mayhem that had each squad snagging a win. The pace? Blistering. The goals? Plentiful.
Enter the plot twist: Waldo, our elusive enigma (where is he, anyway?), dragged in a fresh face who wasted no time earning his stripes. Dubbed “Sweets” (short for Sweetness, a sugary shoutout to the legendary Walter Payton, whose smooth moves on the gridiron now echo on our floor), this newbie zipped around with speed that left defenders dizzy and a touch so silky it could’ve buttered toast. And get this – another S-nickname? Our roster’s turning into an alphabet soup obsession. Soupy, Shaft, Shack, Swifty, Stilts, Snowpants, Smiley… now Sweets? It’s like the letter S is staging a coup, one recruit at a time. Rocky, our prez, must be spiking the recruitment punch with sesame seeds.
Speaking of future glory, we clawed out the draft order for our season-end tournament on April 18th – a beastly battle royale where captains pick their packs and vie for the ultimate prize: Stanley’s Cup.
Draft order being selected. Rocky stood in for Hobbs.
Currently lounging like a lazy lord at Rocky’s pad (he skippered last year’s champs, the smug bastard), this trophy is our holy grail – a gleaming goblet of glory that’s basically the Stanley Cup’s scrappier, floor-hockey cousin. Behold its majesty:
Pro tip: If you win it, you have to drink from it – however, last year’s victors swear it tastes like victory… and vaguely like some old dude’s jockstrap.
Now, the lineups that lit up the night:
In Black – Waldo’s Whereabouts (The Hide-and-Seek Heroes): Flower blooming in net; Shack (our immovable object); Waldo (still MIA half the time); Sweets (debut darling); Soupy (VP and sarcasm slinger); Chevy (truckin’ through traffic); Rocky (prez with the power plays); and Snowpants (insulated against the heat? Ha!).
In White – Stilts’ Tilts (The Towering Terrors): The Terror terrorizing in the crease; Stilts (reaching for the stars… or at least the high shots); Matador (dodging danger with flair); Smiley (beaming through the bruises); Tonto (scouting solo no more); Swifty (think Taylor Swift, but with more dekes and fewer exes); Big Ned (the human bulldozer); The Professor (lecturing with laser passes); and Animal (unleashed and unapologetic).
Game One? Black clawed ahead in a sweat-soaked slugfest. Game Two? White tilted the scales back, proving parity’s our middle name (right after “Tom”). No blowouts, just beautiful bedlam.
As the final whistle faded, we migrated to our mecca: Beers on the Palace stage, where Tomcat tales flow freer than the foam. Friendships forged in the fire of friendly fire – from spry youngsters to grizzled vets, we’re all in this litter box together. Until next Tuesday’s tussle, keep prowling, you spicy strays. Meow with menace!
Ladies and gentlemen (and that one guy who always forgets his stick), strap in for another episode of floor hockey folly at the Kapusta Kow Palace, where the Windsor Tomcats turned a Tuesday night into a turbocharged tango of stick-to-stick passes and goalie grief. Last night’s showdown? A masterclass in mayhem – two teams, wickedly quick pace, and enough scoring to make a accountant blush. With three spares per side (the goldilocks number, as decreed by our future Tomcat President Soupy, who’s already plotting his coup with spreadsheets and sarcasm), the action flew faster than regrets after a bad blind date.
The squads were locked and loaded, proving once again that in our ragtag league of mid-20s whippersnappers and mid-50s warriors (some battling floor hockey balls for a quarter-century now), balance is key – or at least, that’s what we tell ourselves to justify the close calls. Game One clocked in at a nail-biting 10-8, while Game Two squeaked out 9-8, with each crew snagging a W. Evenly matched? You bet – like a pair of mismatched socks that somehow work together.
Behold, the battling battalions:
Killer’s Dark Horses (Dressed in black, because brooding is their brand): Bender in the pipes, stonewalling shots like a bad ex blocking your calls; Killer (our resident assassin on the floor); Soupy (VP and future overlord, stirring up trouble); Animal (unleashing his inner beast mode); Chevy (pounding slappers like a vintage V8); Noah (flooding the zone with skill); Rocky (prez and shot blocker supreme); and The Professor (dropping dekes with doctoral precision).
Waldo’s Knights in White Satin (Rocking white jerseys – duh, because subtlety is for suckers): Terror between the posts, scaring off snipers with sheer intimidation; Waldo (still impossible to find when you need him); Chico (spicing things up down south style); Shack (built like a brick outhouse); Tonto (scouting the ice like a pro); Swifty (zipping around faster than a caffeine-fueled squirrel); Matador (ole-ing his way past defenders); and Snowpants (because who needs mobility when you’ve got insulation?).
The games? Pure pandemonium. Balls pinged like popcorn in a microwave, goalies dove like dramatic divas, and the scoreboard lit up brighter than our post-game grins. The Dark Horses edged out the first fracas, but the Knights stormed back in the sequel – because revenge is a dish best served with sweat and high-fives.
As per tradition, we wrapped the whirlwind with our holy grail: Beers on the Palace stage, where lifelong bonds are brewed stronger than the hops. From the young guns dodging midlife crises to the old-timers reliving glory days, the Tomcats keep the spirit alive – one slapshot, one sip at a time. Until next Tuesday’s tussle, stay sassy, you magnificent misfits. Meow with a roar!
Below is a link about the Tomcats very own Tweety Bird. Tweety was given an award for his very heroic act as Windsor Police Constable when he rescued a citizen from the river. Well done Tweety!
Oh, what a tangled web of consonants we weave! Last night at the hallowed halls of the Kapusta Kow Palace (our gym-turned-beer-oasis, where sweat-soaked jerseys meet frosty brews), the Windsor Tomcats teetered on the brink of floor hockey history. We nearly unleashed the ultimate gimmick: a full team of players whose nicknames all slither out with the sinister hiss of the letter “S.” Soupy, Shaft, Shack, Swifty, Stilts, Snowpants, Smiley – it’s like the Sesame Street writers infiltrated our roster and decided Big Bird needed a break from vowels.
Tomcat President Rocky, ever the visionary (or just really good at spotting patterns while listening to post-game Snowpants’ stories), pointed out this serendipitous surge of S-starters among our fresh meat. “Pure chance,” he claims, but we’re suspicious – maybe he’s been secretly recruiting from a snake charmer convention. The idea hit us like a rogue hockey ball to the shins: Why not pit the S-Squad against the Non-S Nobodies? Even teams, epic rivalry, and enough alliteration to make a poet weep. But after some heated huddle (and a few eye-rolls from the vets who’ve been dodging slapshots for 25+ years), we nixed it. Balance, schmalance – turns out the S’s might’ve steamrolled us mere mortals. Fear not, fans (all three of you): A full-blown S showdown is brewing faster than our Tuesday night beers.
Instead, we settled for themed teams that screamed “surf’s up” – because why not add ocean vibes to our landlocked lunacy?
Soupy’s Sails (The Windy Wonders): Bender guarding the crease like a bouncer at a bad bar, Soupy (our VP), Swifty (faster than a midlife crisis), Killer (don’t ask about the body count), Waldo (still hiding in plain sight), Chevy (reliable as an old truck), Chico (the spice in our salsa), Shaft (smooth operator), and Shack (our human fortress).
Snowpants Surfers (The Chilly Wave-Riders): Flower in net, blooming under pressure; Snowpants (because who needs shorts in Canada?); The Professor (dropping knowledge bombs between dekes); Tonto (lone ranger no more); Rocky (prez and open-net misser extraordinaire); Matador (dodging bulls… er, balls); Animal (wilder than a Muppet on Red Bull); Smiley (grinning through the grit); and Stilts (towering over us short kings).
Game One? A goaltending masterclass that had us all checking our watches. The nets were locked tighter than a mid-50s guy’s grip on his glory days. “I’m used to popping off quickly, so taking so long to get a goal was strange,” quipped Tomcat VP Soupy – a statement we fact-checked with his better half, Serta (yes, she confirmed: he’s all about that quick release). Finally, the Surfers shattered the stalemate, riding a wave of sneaky shots to a 5-3 victory. The Sails? They just… sailed away empty-handed.
Game Two cranked the chaos to eleven – fast-paced frenzy with goalies still channeling their inner superheroes. Bodies flew, sticks clashed, and the scoreboard seesawed like a tipsy Tomcat on stilts. It all ended in a glorious tie, because why settle scores when you can share the agony?
As always, we capped the carnage with our sacred ritual: Beers on the Palace stage, celebrating friendships forged in face-offs and fortified by foam. From spry 20-somethings to seasoned 50-somethings, the Tomcats prove that age is just a number – but Tomcat nicknames? Those are forever. Stay tuned for the S-pocalypse; it’s coming, and it’ll be spectacularly silly.
Tomcat latest additions. Can you tell “where’s Waldo?”
And speaking of Tomcats with “S” in their name…
Stevo Asks For A Fifth Team
Stevo has asked that a fifth team be added to this year’s Tomcat tournament. He wants to put in his own team and is asking to get approval from the tournament organizers.
The line up would be:
Goaltender: Bucko
Defence: Hollywood, Finner, Cribzie and May Day
Forwards: Crispy, Hatchie, the Big Easy and Stevo
Spares: Crow, Hurricane, Beep and Tunzie (in case of injury during practices)
Management : G. M. Sealion
Coaching Staff:
Defencive Coach The Legend
Offensive Coach Rexy
Goaltending Coach Razor
Head Coach: The Bundura
“It is an unprecedented request, but I will be putting it forward to Soupy and the tournament committee,” stated President Rocky. Stay tuned.
A week after Soupy prayed to the No-mini Gods to end the torture of selecting 3 teams and playing so many games with so many guys, the Gods answered. Last night was 2 teams, 2-3 spares as side. The hockey did not disappoint. Very fast play all night.
Teams:
Animal’s Apollos – Falcon in net, Big Ned, Swifty, Waldo, Animal, Chevy and Soupy
Professor’s Poseidons – Terror in net, Smiley, Rocky, The Professor, Shack, Snowpants and Bullwinkle
Despite getting down 0-3 in the first game, Professor’s team can storming back to win handedly. The second game saw more even play across the periods with the Poseidons taking game two as well.
Tomcat Name Issue solved – after several weeks of not getting a nickname, the artist formally named Andrew was given Waldo as a name. Waldo as in “Where’s Waldo” due to his striking resemblance. “All he needs is a striped hat and shirt and we can definitely say where Waldo is,” said The Professor.
And speak of where’s Waldo, where’s Stevo???
#24 Hatchie and #19 Stevo relaxing in retirement …”Play hard, keep your stick on the floor and one day you can come to Costa Rica and sip beers with us,” said Stevo.
Be on the lookout for an email from Soupy for the April 18th year-end Annual Tournament. We need commitments ASAP so captains can draft in March.
Until next week, as Stevo would say, Stay Beautiful and Tomcats Forever!
There was so many teams last night, it’s impossible for me to remember who was on what team, note to self, take a photo of the lineup. Nevertheless, we got a mini! Captains for the night were Tonto, Shack, and Swifty, great job drafting teams, gents! Games were close and the hockey was fast.
There was no clear winner on the night, as the tomcats only played 4 of the 6 games scheduled due to time restraints. Given that the tomcats are either Greek or wanna be Greeks, we polled the people in democratic fashion. it seemed the consensus was that guys don’t like the minis, in their current form. May be something to discuss at the BOD meeting, how to have more guys play, but keep the games flowing. It seems 2 teams with 8 full players is the best option. We have had a great turnout the past few weeks, and that is awesome, we want to keep that up, but we may need to cut off the numbers at first 16 guys and 2 goalies, with full time players getting first dibs. Soupy and Rocky will discuss further this week and come to a decision. Crazy to think that 6 weeks ago we were desperate for guys and now we have plenty. Love to see all the new guys coming out and staying after for beers, that is what we want! We will work out a schedule that works for everyone, full time and part time players.
A couple notes from the outside looking on, we seem to have gotten a little away from the spirit of tomcat hockey in recent weeks, the hockey has been great, fast and competitive…Soupy looks like a 5th round pick these days, with all the young talent. However, we are here for fun, a few beers and laughs after on stage. Guys gotta make sure they are calling themselves out on their missteps, high sticking, hard play, slap shot, etc. I get that the hockey is more competitive than it has ever been, and guys want to win/work hard for their team. But let’s just remember we’re here for fun, there’s no scouts out there. Work hard, but if you knock a guy over, stop the play and make sure he is all good.
I apologize that this week isn’t the usual fun and sexy blog you’re used to seeing out of me, but I felt a few things needed to be discussed.
Terror ran into the elusive keeper of the clock, Sparky. Will Sparky and the Sparky Clock ever return to the Kapusta?
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On a cold February night of hockey, it was snowing outside, but “raining” goals on the inside. What was almost a mini, turned into 2 full teams, with the level of talent on the floor top tier. With the extra bodies, The boys turned up the time limit to allow for a little more hockey, and man was it exciting.
Bullwinkle’s Wet & Wild – Hobbs, Andrew, Snowy, Chevy, Bullwinkle, Professor, Shack, Big Ned, Terror in Net
Swifty’s Squiters – Soupy, Sunny, Matador, Swifty, Animal, Flintstone, Tonto, Flower in Net
The first game saw the teams trading goals back and forth, with the Wet & Wild taking it 6-5 on a late goal. Goaltending, as usual, was impeccable, with the Terror looking in Tournament form, standing on his head all night long!
The speed of the Wet & Wild took over in the second game, dominating play as the tired Squiters just couldn’t keep up, losing 11-5.
After the first game it was discovered that the hall had a water issue, with what appeared to be a burst pipe on the women’s washroom. Soupy and Chevy went to check it out, and after going into the bowels of the church, Detective Chevy was able to find the main water shut off and stop the damage. But not before the entire banquet hall was flooded with
2” of water. Soupy was quick with the measurement, knowing what 2” looks like. Shout out to Chevy for going to get a couple sump pumps to help some of the water out. Hopefully the damage isn’t too bad, and the hall can get it all rectified without any disruption to hockey.
On Stage afterwards, the boys were discussing captains for the upcoming tournament. Suggestions are Hobbs, Swayze, Big Ned, and Soupy, but that is still up for debate, with rocky having the final say.
See you all next week, looking forward to another great turnout!
When was the last time we’ve seen a full bench with 8 players a ‘piece’, considering rumour has it other ‘lesser’ clubs cancelled games due to the winter blast.
Tomcats however are a different breed. Upon arrival players were quick to shovel the steps and even created a partial pathway into the players lot. The goalies were ‘very’ thankful.
Speaking of goalies – looks like Management reached into the ‘spare’ available net minders and convinced the ‘Shack’ to suit up. The ‘algorithm’ didn’t disappoint with the 1st game ending in a tie, that 2nd game however saw the newcomer ‘Stilts’ finding his groove and ‘lighting’ up poor ‘Sunflower’.
‘Yup’ – didn’t take too long to name the ‘big’ (Like as in the ‘Sitka’ tree = tallest tree in Canada – look it up); but the initial ‘keep’ the ‘S’ thing going was challenging for a bit (Names bantered around initially included ‘Skyfall’, ‘Skyscraper’, ‘Sasquatch’, ‘Shrew’ (Apparently the ‘smallest’ animal….), ‘Squid’) – that is until ‘Snowpants’ came up with ‘Stilts’.
It ‘fits’, one ‘S’ player naming another – and continuing the ‘S’ steak.
Speaking of ‘streaks’ during an in game interview ‘Stilts’ mentioned he was a ‘Greek’ by marriage – cementing his status with Soupy and the ‘Greek’ gang.
Inside players may have brought the wet, but a quick glance showed many arrived in ‘boots’, and quickly changed to playing gear. I did overhear a defensive player wonder aloud if wearing their boots would ‘increase’ shots blocked. Future Tomcat hall of famed for sure, gives up mobility to block shots…
16 guys and 2 goalies ‘definitely’ chipped away at the ‘conspiracy’ article a few weeks back about ‘excessive’ ‘beverage’ stocks….
‘Stilts’ and the Matador really made a great dynamic duo challenging scouting reports Soupy and Chevy are ‘top’ scoring Tomcat pairing threats.
The Shack’s ‘Shivers’ (Sean, Rocky, Shaft, Professor, Hobbs, Matador, Sunny and Skippy) have bragging rights this ‘chilly’ Tuesday night and after a hard fought tie with the Flowers ‘Flurries’ (Snowpants, Killer, Bullwinkle, Animal, Soupy, Swayze and Swifty) just let ‘Stilts’ take his deadly shots to give the newcomer his first ‘win’.
Still no word that I’m aware of about the upcoming year end tourney Captains, but keeping with the ‘S’ thing I think a Captain couldn’t go wrong with Stilts, Soupy, Snowpants, Swayze, Sunny, Schooley and ‘Sun’ Flower in net….
While you’re wondering where you’ll end up in the draft, I noticed your Handzonmecac.
Windsor Tomcats 