I know is each team had two lines each. It was an unbelievably fast game in that it seemed like we had more kids under 20 than guys over 40. Everyone played great... Klinger had a crash or two. Freddie was knocked down but recovered well. One of Tweedy's goals was a break away, he flipped the puck up onto his stick, and slapped it in mid-air. Crazy great!  Leepin Lou sent:  "Drago has become a scoring machine.  Beak, I like your shirt, I didn't know there was an Olympus Mons on Mars."  

Here is what I learned at Wild Wings:  White had 9 Goals:
Greg Z had 3, Thor 2, Nick "DeJesus" Hawrysio 2, Rags 1, Tommy Z 1.
Reds had 7 Goals:
Geno "The Genie" had 2, Tweedy 2, Drago 1, Nick the Prick 1, Fruitcake had the 5th goal to give the Reds a 31-9 win when the Bobka Factor kicked in.  The Reds won the Meaningful game 3-2.

• Drago has become a scoring Machine just 2 years after taking hockey lessons. (See page 2)
  
• Greg Z filled in for Brinks and brought us beer and was MVP
  
• Brinks and Beak are no longer perfect, although  Beak kept his Perfect Attendance at Wild Wings
  
• We had 3 Final Scores: Reds 3, Whites 2 (Meaningful), Whites 9, Reds 7 (Meaningless), Reds 31,

Whites 9 (Bobka Factor) 

Page 2 Reprint from March 26, 2010
Let me set the stage for you:

• I get to the locker room. I have very little idea of what to do. So I am watching intently the other guys while they put on their gear. I figure, what better way to learn than to observe. They all must think I'm the gay-boy staring in the locker room.
  
• I manage to get most of the stuff on without forgetting much. Feelin' good. Skates feel nice, elbow pads cut-off all the circulation to my hands. I adjust.
  

• Still haven't fallen.
  
• Warm up skating…supposed to skate around the 5 circles. Didn't even know there were five, so I just follow the guy in front of me. He quickly pulls away, and I quickly cause a major back-up. Nice. Did you know some guys can actually skate while in a turn. Me, no. I can propel forwards, then turn. Straight…turn…straight….turn. You get the idea. I don't skate in circles, I skate in octagons. However, I quickly gather than many of the guys also suck, so I'm in good company.
  
• Another ra-tard drill. Pass, skate, receive a pass, skate, shoot. I got the pass down. I got the skate down. I got the miss the pass down, and I never got to shoot because I didn't have a puck. To make it worse, when I would miss the pass, the instructor would send out a "second" puck to accomplish the task. I missed that one too. Twice.
  
• Now I am convinced I have made a bad choice. I'm a better fan than player. Go Toews!
  
• The instructor brings us all together. Some guys take a knee. I think, "Ok Joe, be cool. Take a knee." I fall on my ass. BTW, with so much crap on I didn't feel a thing.
  
• Being as delicate as a hockey instructor can be, he says the advanced skater go one way and the rest of you ra-tards go the other way. Ra-tard went the other way.
  
• Jamoke drill 1: Skate forwards. It's not the going forwards that got the group. It was the stopping. Poor instructor is going to earn his money with this group.
  
• Jamoke drill 2: Backwards. In reality this drill probably only took 5 minutes. In Joe's skating world…for f***-sake ever!
  
• Jamoke drill 3: Hockey stop, both sides. Skate…stop…fall. Skate…stop…fall. Skate…stop…fall. Over and over. But I have pads on and no self respect that this point.
  
• Drink break. Dumbass forgets a water bottle. So I practice…skate…stop….fall. F*** that. I just go to the bench.
  
• Jamoke Drill 4: Get a puck, skate to the blue line, hockey stop, stake to the other side, hockey stop, skate to the goal, shoot the puck into the net. No problem, I have seen 1 legged ra-tards do this. How hard can it be? Joe's version. Find a puck…push, pull, and skate past the damn thing. Finally get to the blue line. Crap…the puck is behind me. Reach around for it…fall. Get to the blue line…hockey stop, but the opposite way than I'm used to. So I do a twist, turn, fall, f*** this, get up. Trudge to the other side. Hockey stop. Nice. Trudge to the goal…weak ass wrist shot that missed everything and plunks against the wall. Not even a good whack, but just a plunk. Over and over, and over again. A one-legged ra-tard can kick my ass. Nice.
  
• Drink break. Where's the god damn beer. By this point my helmet is so freakin' tight that my head is numb, I am sweat soaked like I have never been in my life, amazingly nothing hurts (but my head), and my nut-hut is still in place. Good to go.
  
• Ok….light colored jerseys onto that bench…dark colored jerseys on the other. Huh? Are we practicing jumping over the wall? Nope. 5 on 5 game for 30 minutes. Seriously? I take a quick inventory…ego? Gone. Self respect? Gone too. Numb head? Yup. Everyone else suck this much? Yup. Lets go.
  
• My turn. I figure, play defense. If nothing else I can work on my best skill…flopping on the ice. After what seemed to be 3 hours, I go back to the bench. Grinning.
  
• I observe. We all suck. This is great. We all sucky-suck so bad that it's like watching an old Saints/Falcons game. They both suck so bad that it's a good game.
  
• My turn again. After sitting on the bench for a few minutes everything starts to tighten. I jump over the wall and fall. Again. Grinning.
  
• I'm so freaking slow to realize what's going on that I find myself in the middle of the ice. An errant puck heads my way. I piss my pants (you can't tell though, everything is wet). I snare the puck, turn around, skate 20 feet, find my winger, flip a pass, he gets it, he scores. Joe gets his first cherry picking assist. History is made. I'm all tear-y eyed. It's a moment to be shared. Then someone yells, "Nice pass cherry picking dumbass". Perfect.
  
• My run again. I am planning on making another historic run at it. This time, I find myself all alone in the offensive end. The puck is resting against the outside of the net. I can't believe my luck (hey, you make your own luck). Now, any Duffer could easily have just grabbed the puck and twisted a little tap into the net. Not so much here. I go flying past it, manage to poke the thing with an out-stretched stick, slam into the wall (who put that there?). Our team scores again. 2 assists for yours truly. Its making my head swell, which sucks because my helmet is too small.
• Last turn. I figure I would see how long I am out there. The clock says 11:14. I jump on the ice and fall. I skate my little heart out. Up, down, left, right, poke, crash. I've had enough. Surely its been 10 minutes. Get to the bench. 11:15. What a putz.
  
• Game over. We get killed. I'm grinning like a virgin in a Navy port brothel. Yup, that's right. Bring on the next game. 2 hours of absolute dumb-ass jamokedness in pads. Admittedly, being 6'4" 240 lbs, I have not been blessed with the graceful gene. I don't run, I lope. I don't dance, I bounce to the rhythm of another song. Now, put on skates, give me a stick, put me on ice. Limbs flopping all over the place. Sticks flying. Missing pucks. Not even seeing the puck. Laughing so hard my glasses are fogged up. The Duffers will never be the same.

Joe Evans

Outstanding!.
I'm in tears its so funny. Somebody has got to send this to Hockey News. Congrats Joe. You will make a fine Duffer. Thanks for sharing Bill. Take care,
Perry

Joe, say it's not so, awesome, I can't wait to give you your first slow foot on the Duffers and see you go sprawling all over the place. I will buy you a beer after the game though so it will be worth it.
Darrin/Lu: Great time in Nashville, I need to get my ass to Canada soon, or the Duffers have to have more than one trip a year. Rags

Joe, I laughed so hard, I've been there. You will get top billing in the Next Duffer News! Thank You.
I have a tip for your instructor, (He should know this) I was asked to get Hockey going again at Downers South High School by Johnny Z. The program died out after my Son Ken Graduated and I handed the check book to a new sucker. Johnny assured me that there were enough guys to start a team, so I rented ice and held a try out. I skated out to center ice, blew the whistle and called everyone to center ice, not knowing that 6 or 7 of these guys could not stop. There was a pile up of players like a fog induced 20 car pile up. I was laughing at the site until someone slid into the back of my legs and sent me crashing to the ice. I should have known better, because I coached little mites and never called them to center ice. I always had them line up at the boards,
where I would skate over when the final kid fell.
Welcome to the Duffers, it will be nice having someone who can read and write.

Beak

Beak,
That would have been info a day ago. It was a 20 car pile up. Truly a domino effect. And the worst for the non-skating dopes is just trying to stand still. Guys would just drop, I would laugh, and then drop too. A sad state of affairs
Joe Evans

Frank, Klinger and Beak were going to go to Seven Bridges Ice Rink on Monday to cheer on Joe, but his lesson was cancelled. They were going to bring some beer and teach these newcomers why we play the game, as Bill Gaston says in Midnight Hockey, "beer in the locker room is guilt free beer."

If you haven't watched this 4 minute video, you will enjoy it. It covers what we go through on Friday nights.
http://capitalsoutsider.com/2010/09/29/life-in-beer-league-hockey/