Tents #RollMasons, 8-1

 

 (Editors Note: Due to raving reviews, you all have been sentenced to a weekly write up.)

Before we get to the game recap, we need to set the stage a little bit.

On Saturday Night, Tent Hockey OG Norman Michael MacFarland hosted his annual Spruce Road Christmas party. The event was a MAJOR success, with over $1100 and 100 plus toys being donated to Project Uplift. This kid is quite literally an Angel. So all of you nitwits in the league who hate the kid because he is working harder than you on the ice, you might want to pay attention to what really matters.

During this fantasic event to support those who are less fortunate, event took a less than fortunate turn when a few players from the Masons began running their mouths. Saying that they were going to play a physical game and that the Tent Hockey Organization was going to be raped of its talent in the coming years. Antenna's Up.

The following morning word spread to every corner of the Tent Hockey Organization. From Upper Management all the way down to the guy that fills our water bottles (Who, Ironically, on most nights tends to be the same person), preparations were made ready for a physical game.

Then, The Game Started and it went a little something like this:

First Period:

Goal Tents, Goal Tents, Goal Tents.

Second Period:

Goal Tents, Goal Tents.

Third Period:

Goal Tents, Goal Masons, Goal Tents, Goal Tents.

To elaborate:

Those who talked a big game at Norm's Christmas Party probably should have warned their teammates and probably should have subsequently apologized to them post game for "Poking the Bear."

Big Tall Mr. Defense man on the Masons not named Mike Muniz, don't tell Andrew Fulford that you are going to "Bundle" him. You probably regretted that. When the Referee was questioned postgame for why there was no penalty on the play, he responded, "I was looking the other way."

Also, to the fella that speared me in the nuts after just minutes after we bonded over wearing the same color jersey (my fault). We can no longer be friends. Why do you think I went after you? I want my son to have a sibling, someday.

Hat Tricks by Norman Michael MacFarland and Brett Biondo, supplemented by a two goal effort from No Last Name Mike paced the Tents to victory.

TOM SALAH FIGURED HIS LIFE OUT (A claim solely based on his ability to show up for 1 game out of 8).

Todds Stat Line: 0 goals, 3 Assists and a +7. You would think I played like a God. Nope, whenever we play the Masons I play like dog shit. Something about them (no identifiable flow to their game, maybe) always makes me play horrendous. I would love to polish this turd like I do on most nights, but I simply cannot.

Hey Jack Doyle, How Does it feel to play for a winning team?

On that note, Happy Holidays to all. Enjoy the Holiday Roster Freeze. Nobody will lose their fake jobs this week.

Peace, Love and Save the Whales.

P.S. I heard the Mugs were supplying the entire league with Bauer team Sweatshirts. I will take a 3XL Tent Hockey Sweatshirt, please. Haha, "Tent"

Beer League Glory: A First Person Narrative of the Absurd.

                                 

There are many things in life that make a man happy. First Car, First Home, His favorite Pro team winning a championship (Fuck you Tom), and he may even have been laid a few times... but nothing compares to the 2 goal, 3 point performance in men's league hockey.

So there Todd was, sitting in the cramped locker room number two at DTMR aka The Tank, pondering one of lifes great questions, how miserable will my equipment smell when I unzip the gas chamber that is my equipment bag (rhetorical question). How miserable will it be putting on my jock strap that I have worn for ten consecutive years? Will this be the week that I can actually tie my skates with my pants on? Beyond all of the uncertainty, there was one definitive proclamation. Todd looks up and says to Jack Doyle.... "I'm going to score tonight." A bold strategy from a lifetime defensive defenseman's defensive defenseman. A man who has scored less goals in his life than years he has lived on this planet. (no word on how many goals scored in previous lives past). But in any case, something special was afoot.

Todd is feeling so overconfident, in fact, he blows off the "THIS MEANS YOU" sign at the gate to the ice banning all players from skating on the ice during resurfacing. Nobody pays attention to that sign. It's like it doesn't even exist. The only player on the Tents who does not wear his current issued jersey because its a little snug (hey, its like American eagle, Reebok discriminates against the "husky" man) so Todd is permanently stuck in throwback mode. Asked whether he lives in the past on purpose, "No Comment."

The puck is dropped to start the first period and we immediately have problems. Missing passes left and right. Falling on his ass TWICE, turning the puck over in the process. Todd has an abysmal first period. Staking the Elks to an early lead. But then something amazing happens. Its like god took over. Down 3-0 in the second, Michael Russo wins the draw, Jagr passes to Todd, Todd sauces to Jack Doyle, Jack Doyle fires a cross ice pass to Norm (BAE), Norm (BAE) gains entry to the Offensive zone and fires one past The Elks netminder and we now have ourselves a game!

                                                          Seemed appropriate.

 
                                                   *****************************

The third period is underway, and things look bleak. 5-2 advantage for the Elks. But folks, this is why you better fucking start coming to these games you lazy good for nothing no good dirty rotten scoundrels.

Andrew Fulford takes the puck up the right wing and has Elk Defenders closing in on him quickly. He looks for an open man, and unfortunately, he could only find Todd. Better to pass to the lifetime .000068 shooting percentage Defenseman than turn the puck over, he says to himself...... Thus bringing us to "The Pass." Fulford sauces the most saucy pass of all time from his back hand right into Todd's wheel house. Todd loads up his cannon and, making sure he keeps his weight forward as to not take someones ear, eye, nose or mouth out, one times a beauty off the far post and in. 5-3 Elks. Cue the over the top Celebration.

Jagr and Michael both feeding off Todd's energy, tie the game up at 5 heading into "Winning Time."

Then, after a lengthy debate whether David Krejci is a left handed or right handed shot, in which Andrew Fulford was able to shave $20 off his accounts payable because Todd has dad brain, a flat out Miracle occurred.

No last name Mike, who I recently found out his last name but will withhold it because its funnier this way, has the puck at the top of the offensive zone... fearing a turnover, Mike needs to make a pass. Of course he can only find the Defender with the newly improved .000069 shot percentage. He passes the puck right into Todd's wheelhouse and Todd, actively putting his weight forward, one times a beauty passed Sutera, who wanted to puke everywhere, for the GWG.

First off I want to thank Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior. That wasnt me scoring those goals. Jesus guided those pucks into the net just like he guides our lives to the path of righteousness.

Second, I want to thank my teammates for giving me this opportunity. Putting up with my "eccentric" ways can be a struggle.

Finally... I called my shot. Like Babe Ruth. I called it. That makes me, for at least the next week, the man. Deal with it.

Barf bags available upon request.

Peace.

Tent Hockey Update

The Tents are mother fucking BACK BABY! (Early side note: Momma, meaning Emily, doesn't like the amount of profanity I have been slinging on the home front so I'm bout to sling it here because that little fuck face cant read) I love you Owen, Dad didn't mean that.

Off season training regiment involved gaining a bunch of baby weight... yes it happens to fathers, too. Some kind molecular physiology, you cant argue with nature. So getting in the swing of things this season had quite the learning curve. But have no fear,  the Tents returned cancer free and in TIP TOP shape. (Only a few cubic yards of throw up have been found on the bench thus far.)

New additions:

Mike. Thats it. Mike. Dont know his last name. Quiet folk he is. But man is he good. Maybe Todd should ask him about his training. He's got the wind. He's got the moves. He's got the shot. And he has no problem getting into tussles.

Jack Doyle: Speaking of Nitwits, Mason's management put Jack Doyle on waivers and the Tents were quick to claim him. Solid Team Guy. Gets the Job Done. Until Tom Salah figures out his life, which could be tomorrow or in 2020, Jack Doyle will be a regular fixture in the starting line up. 

Lets go over the results so far:

Game One: Tents Win, Kings Lose.
Game Two: Tents Win, Gulls Lose.
Game Three: Tents Win, Elks Lose.
Game Four: Masons Game Postponed until TBA because of that GOSH DARN TOM BRADY
Game Five: Tents Win, Mugs Lose. By 6.
Game Six: Tents Win, Kings Lose.
Game Seven: The Tents and Gulls kiss their sisters. Stupid Ties.

If you know how to count, that means the Tents are 5-0-1-0. Leading the league with 11 points and have 1 game in hand on a couple contenders. Goaltending has been Dynamite. Defense has been Dynamite. Offense has been Dynamite. A+ for the Tents. Im qualified to give B's, C's, D's and F's to the rest. I'm not in the business of offending anyone so I'm not gonna assign grades to each team. But if you and your teammates are honest with yourselves, and are realistic human beings, you know exactly what grade you deserve. But being a realistic human can be tough, for some of you.

Norman Macfarland needs a left handed stick. He must be waiting for the League to reimburse teams for equipment breakage. The league kindly gave the middle finger.

Quote of the season to date "You're Drunk. Go Home."

Also, If I stick check the puck off your stick, and I celebrate it. Don't be offended. I'm proud of myself. Dont get stick checked next time.

Until next time.... Fuck Donald Trump (And to a lesser degree, The Republican Party) and Fuck Guns.

Namaste.

P.S. Head butting is frowned upon.