Windsor Tomcats

…Buster Hymen

Tuesday night was a season low for attendance. It seems that many players incorrectly thought it was Sparky’s Dancing with Myself Event and went to the Casino. Instructions on this event will follow later. Word on the street is that there was also a 2-for-1 beef on a bun at Silvers which also limited attendance. When called by cell phone, Youngblood commented in a hard-to-understand voice as he hungrily drilled back his sandwich: “You just can’t beat shaved roast beef”…

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 Hollywood, aka Toe Blake did the best he could with the minimal numbers he had to work with:
Team Carbon Black consisted of Razor “the Reflex”, the power play quarterback Yuri Met, Husky Eyes aka “Adam Oates” and the recent goal-scoring juggernaut they call Shamus.
Team Whitehead was made up of Mike “Edie” Falcone, Killer “the converted Muslim” Colisanti, Mikey “Slats” Hollywood and the sniper known only as Spinner.

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The result of the game was a blackout of gargantuan proportion, similar to the one that knocked out power on the entire east coast of North America in 2005 when Junior went ballistic due to being unable to access his Plenty of Fish account for 2 and a half days. The passing was sublime and the goals were hot and heavy…from the Black Attack.
“It seemed like the floor was tilted down toward our goal” said Menzel as he applied aloe to his very sensitive 3rd degree shoulder burn while throwing back about 8 beers. “Then came game 2 and 3…” he said as he slowly curled into the fetal position beside his hockey bag and began sucking his thumb. Someone suggested spooning the Falcon to offer him some support. George’s response was direct and to the point as usual. “You want a spoon? Go get one in the fucking drawer. Jesus, you guys…”

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Game two included the appearance of Lovie for Team Whitehead. Unfortunately, this did nothing to change the fortunes of the club. Shamus, who is normally very generous with his praise and encourages the direct correlation of beer consumption to the quality of play, suggested that Lovie try “going dry” for this week. In fact, many players were angry with Lovie for showing up as the beer allotment had been thrown into confusion by adding another body. Apparently some guys understood there would be no math involved…
The score ended 7-3 or somewhere in that neighborhood. Black were scoring so fast I actually could not keep up from the Gondola. Poor Falcon was facing 2 and 3 on ones all game. The 3-on-3 was opening up the game like a grade nine girl after a Vodka and OJ and the Black guys were taking full advantage. It was so degrading that Spinner left. He was concerned that being around such a debacle could hurt his reputation. Team White looked around at each other, but really could not argue the point. As a pillar of the community directing the future of the country, no one could blame him. (Plus, it brought the beer per capita back up to pre-Lovie levels)

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It was decided that a 5-goal third game would be played. Mike squared and Killer did their best to cough up every pass attempt directly to the opposing team, although they did spice it up by getting ridiculously bad bounces off the plumbing, pounding “passes” directly over the boards into George’s change room and also a few scattered ones into the curtain. Lovie especially, seems to have a real knack for taking out light bulbs. To top it all off, Hollywood took a stick directly in the eye. “Razor basically gave me a Lasic procedure” said Mikey, “except for the 2″ long splinter jammed into my cornea”.
After jumping out to a 3-0 lead due to some really nice playmaking between the Trifecta of Sunny, George and Shamus, Team Whitehead actually made a slight comeback started by the hustle of Killer who knocked in a rebound on the 17th attempt. “Now that is effort”, said Razor “Killer makes Pete Rose look like a lazy, degenerate gambler…oh, uh. You know what I mean…
Not satisfied with totally humiliating their opponents, winning all three games and raping and pillaging the White village, Shamus had the nerve to trip Hollywood on a partial breakaway. That was the last straw. The Whitenheimers pretty much laid down like a dog in the heat and took their medicine. George ended up with 3 GWG and then everyone explained to Sunny that they were not blue jeans, but game-winning goals.

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Talk on the stage was great and a variety of topics were discussed, including strip joints, dancing bears, The Beanery, Asian persuasions, Junior’s interpersonal skills and did I mention strippers? OK, we only had one topic, but the convo was great.
Someone brought up the recent new story of a fireman responding to a house with smoke showing. Apparently he used his axe to create a small hole in the door and was trying to reach in and unlock the door. At some point during the event the dumbass who was crushed after his SuperBowl party and threw a Dellissio in the oven before passing out in a heap actually woke up. Unsure what was going on he grabbed a baseball bat, called his shot Babe-style and proceeded to pound the shit out of this firefighter’s meathook. We were enjoying the story and chuckling when Razor spoke up. “It’s lucky he didn’t do a Jack Nicholson “Here’s Johnny”, they could have called it “The Shiner”.

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It just goes to show that as Killer says, “when life gives you lemons, you can make lemonade…as long as they are fresh. Produce is critical. You really have to look out for the blight, it really dries those suckers out and then there isn’t much juice to squeeze……………”.
Tomcat hockey is  a lot like BJ’s, even a bad one is good.
I’m Buster Hymen, filling in for Harry, who will have his Harry Ballsonue if you don’t do what Don Cherry says and keep your head up.