"We Need Graham Back."

Graham, moments after his first cup win.

Another day, another loss.  Another two losses.

"You know, it's not just hurting us.  It's bad for the whole league when you lose a player like that.  He's absolutely a marquee player.  When he's in the lineup, it fires us up.   I don't know what it is, but we're a different team when he's there.  He makes us angry and gives us confidence.  You know, he causes that extra second of hesitation.  It's infectious.  It spreads to their whole team.  It's just frustrating, because we came so close to winning the championship last season, and for the Flying Dutchmen to lose that guy now...it just makes it that much harder for any of the other teams to beat them.  We need Graham back," said the captain of  the other team, Chacals.



With Graham absent, pursuing his dream, both Chacals and Puck Bunnies suffered decisive losses at the hands of the Dutchmen.

The first game wasn't even close. 8-2 for the Dutchmen.

"It's not just me.  Pietro has been gone too," said Graham, to whoever he is with as he reads this.

"I think it was 9-2, actually," said Dave. "I think Fred missed a goal while he was telling me the score."

Dave continues.

"I didn't score a goal all night.   But the guys were supportive.  Patty scored two goals on one shift.  One of them was a real sweet backhander.  Top shelf.  I think Fred got a few.  John, Alain, everyone scored almost.  Except me and Graham.  I can barely see the ball out there.  We should use a white ball.  Ten percent of men are colour blind, but no one seems to care.  I point this out before every game, during warm ups.  I say, "I can barely see the ball on this floor.  I'm colour blind.  And I have a cold."

Eric was happy with the wins.  Especially the second one, against the PuckBunnies.

"As Dave said, great games," he emailed.  "We showed character again tonight, we stand together as a team and we care for each other, I'm loving it.  That fu*%$/" ponytail jerk, I'm sorry that sometimes I lose my cool but I cannot stay there and watch that idiot hit my teammates and do nothing...maybe my Ric Flair 'Whooooo' was a little bit cocky at the end of the game, but I can't help it...see you next week guys and take care."

Dave disagreed.

"I loved the 'Whooooo'!  The fu*%$/" ponytail jerk 'whooooo'ed first!  And he did it on a goal that didn't count because he shot it from behind the red line.  Yes, it is a shitty rule to take advantage of, but it's not so bad when it's that fu*%$/" ponytail jerk 'whooooo'ing all over the place.  Guy's a dickhead."

"THAT'S a dickhead!" said Matt and Dan, simultaneously.

At one point, the fu*%$/" ponytail jerk checked Dave from behind as they chased the ball into the corner.  Dave jumped over the bench and hit the wall.  The fu*%$/" ponytail jerk hit him with enough momentum to actually run into the bench himself.  The team pounced on him like a bunch of lions on a fu*%$/" ponytail jerk Hyena.  Dan had to escort him off the bench to avoid having the Dutchmen suspended for excessive getting him.

He delivered a headshot to Fred away from the play, gave D-max a good stick to the balls, and was generally out of control.  In a mean way.

"I think he gave me the Flu," said Patty.  "I have the flu now."

"Good Game.  You shut us up," said that fu*%$/" ponytail jerk, in handshakes - as if that makes it ok. It doesn't.  Imagine a suspect charged with some horrible crime, speaking at his trial.

"Hey, ma'am, good job trying to save your only son, before I killed him.  No hard feelings.  He fought tough.  Hey Judge.  Good trial.  I want you to know I'm cooled off now that it's over.  I'm a good guy, see???  Ask the guys at ball hockey.  I'll buy you a beer.  Actually, when's lunch?"

After the game, everyone in the showers was in a jovial mood.  There was much of the laughter, the tossing of the soap, and the back scrubbing.  At one point, after an especially good quip from the wit, Johnny Garbageman, there was a great burst of laughter.  It lasted a few seconds, and then died out slowly, and a silence fell over the boys, as if the joke was too good to ruin with another mundane comment.  You could have heard a pin drop, had it not been for the running showers.

"Aw, man!  I wish Graham was here tonight," said Vanna, rinsing Alain's back.

"Yeah, me too."

"Fuckin' A"

"He'd 've been so proud."

"Yeah..."

"He would have given that fu*%$/" ponytail guy a mouthful."

"'magine?"

"I'll give you a mouthful."

Then, laughter.  

Then, another pause.

"In your mouth."

"Thanks, Dave."

In your mouth, indeed, you Flying Dutchmen.