Regular Season Here We Come

By Dickie Dunn

The White team looked to be in “almost” regular season form in Friday night’s back and forth affair.  There was plenty of goal scoring and some laugh-a-minute physical play.  Jimmy, Richie and Duke provided plenty of scoring for the boys in pale shirts and “team Earl” lit the lamp on more than one occasion for the Dark tops.

Play in the Dark zone was plentiful and Black team goalie Kevin made his share of stops despite a bad right wing and avoiding the IR for the evening.  Most FNH insiders feel that the “bad wing” was just a trap to lure White team snipers to go blocker side.  Despite the mental lure that hung out there like a saltwater jig, White team skaters forewent the blocker side and found their marks opposite the crippled wing.

As play was plenty at the dark end, it too was plenty in the opposite direction.  Without Duke’s @$$ in his face, White team goalie Chucky held his own most of the night and doing so seemed to work against the majority of the Black team with the exception of one pain in the a…. 

With the black biscuit sliding and flying all over the rink, the seconds wound down on the game, but not before fireworks that had potential to fly high like rockets, missiles and roman candles, sputtered out like wet bottle rockets as both Chuck (not goalie Chuck) and Bruce went into the boards hard and colliding.  Nothing more than an occasional “love tap” came from that, but it was enough to blind Ugly Kris with hilarity and prevent him from moving the puck out of the White team zone.  What came next?  You guessed it…the metallic click clack of the Zamboni door filled the air and the doors swung open – game over.

Despite some slow play that perhaps warranted a few walkers and canes, the White team seemed to have “jump” for at least half the night giving this writer hope that team White is close to being prepared for the regular season despite being ten weeks in.

“We are weeks ahead of schedule,” commented Captain Billy of the White team.  Captain Billy went on to say “Where’s my stinking brother?”  Killer Dave of the Black team was a scratch or better yet, MIA for the evening.  Incidentally, one White team member was quick to point out later in the evening that not only was Killer Dave missing, but so was Frosty, hmmmmmm.