Tuesday, November 29, 2005

 

How The B.L.inch Stole Hockey

So, I made my weekly trek to the St Louis Psychiatric Center to visit our friend, "Childhood Trauma". With the way the Blues are playing these days, he's not the only Blues fan that has gone insane.

He slipped me a little story he wanted me to publish about owner Bill Laurie. I guess it is therapeutic for CT. Maybe in 10 years he'll be able to earn a 24-hour day pass or two.

---

How The B.L.inch Stole Hockey

By Dr. Sue-Us

Every Bluu
Down in Bluu-ville
Liked hockey a lot...

But the B.L.inch,
Who lived just Southwest of Bluu-ville,
Did NOT!

The B.L.inch hated hockey! The whole hockey season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head thought basketball was right.
It could be, perhaps, that his wife was a fright.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
may have been that his wallet was two sizes too small.

But, whatever the reason,
His wallet or Mizzou,
He stood there on hockey night, hating the Bluus,
Staring down from his box with a sour, B.L.inchy frown
At the goal lighted glow for the visiting town.
For he knew every Bluu down in Bluu-ville beneath
Was busy now, watching in sorry disbelief.

"And they're hanging their heads!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Detroit! They're practically here!"
Then he growled, with his B.L.inch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep hockey from coming!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...

...All the Bluu fans and the whole Bluu Team
Would wake up hungover. They'd root for Lalime!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Bluus, young and old, after play quite murky.
They would drink! And they'd drink!
And they'd DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!
They would start on Bluu-Bud-Lite, and rare Bluu-wild-turkey
Which was something the B.L.inch couldn't stand 'cos he's jerky!

And THEN
They'd do something he liked least of all!
Every Bluu down in Bluu-ville, the large and the small,
Would stand close together, with goal sirens bleering.
They'd stand and high five. And the Bluus would start cheering!

They'd cheer! And they'd cheer!
AND THEY?D CHEER! CHEER! CHEER! CHEER!
And the more the B.L.inch thought of the Bluu-Scoring-Cheer
The more the B.L.inch thought, "I must stop this all year!
"Why for thirty-five years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop goals from coming!
...But HOW?"

Then he got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE B.L.INCH
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The B.L.inch Laughed out with glee.
And he made a quick jot and signed up KT.
And he chuckled, and clucked, "Watch them all beat-ya!
"With this wave of my money, I'll let go Demitra!"

"All I need is a scapegoat..."
The B.L.inch looked around.
But since idiots are scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the old B.L.inch...?
No! The B.L.inch simply said,
"If I can't find a scapegoat, I'll make one instead!"
So he called his coach Mike. Then he took some red ink
And he tied both his hands making Mike sink.

THEN
He loaded some pockets
And he let them all strike
then he waived them away

And he hitched up old Mike.

Then the B.L.inch said, "Game ON!"
And the team started down
Toward the bottom where the Bluus
Lay a-hoping in town.

But their team was quite bad. Quiet play filled the air.
All the Bluus biggest man simply was no longer there
Seems in the off-season his food he wouldn't share.
"This is game number one," The old B.L.inchy man hissed
And his team ran around, the net always missed.

Then they slid down to last. In a budget tight pinch.
But if Wertz could do it, then so could the B.L.inch.
He got wins every once, for a moment or two.
Then the team went back to doing what they do.
There were little Bluu losses all strung in a row.
"These playoffs," he grinned, "are the first thing to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile gold filled,
Around the whole arena, and he took everyone skilled!
Prongers! And Hulls! Nagys! Choppers!
Mellanbys! Shooters! Checkers! And puck-stoppers!
And he shuffled them away. Then the B.L.inch, very nimbly,
loaded up on excuses, one by one, very Flimsbly!

Then he slunk to Columbia. He took the Bluus' joy!
He took the Bluu-pride! He left us towel boy!
He cleaned out that locker room as quick as a flash-a.
Why, that B.L.inch even took our last washed up Bluu-sasha!

Then he rebuffed all the fans with Sauer his voice box.
"And NOW!" grinned the B.L.inch, "I will sell off the whole schlock!"

And the B.L.inch grabbed him an agent, and he started to shill
When he heard a small bid from Checkett's large till.
He stopped taking bids, and he got a small room!
He put down the papers, but Dave saw the doom.

The B.L.inch had been caught by this little Bluus disaster

So he went back home with the art of the deal unmastered
a fan stared at the B.L.inch and said, "Owner man, why,
"Why are you killing our playoff team? WHY?"

But, you know, that old B.L.inch was so smart and so slick
He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick!
"Why, my sweet little fan," the fake owner man lied,
"The city just won't let that entertainment tax slide.
"So I'm putting the team on the block, my dear.
"That'll fix it with the city. And the team will stay here."

And his fib fooled the fan. Then he patted his wallet
And he made a fan can night and he sent him to Wal-Mart.
And when Every-Man Bluu went to bed with no cup,
HE went to the Bettman and boxed the team up!

Then the last thing he took
Was the light for their lamp.
Then he went down the road himself, the old vamp.
On the arena he left nothing but banners, not a champ.

And the one speck of dream
The he left in the place
Was a dream that we would next year be in a real race.

Then, he did the same thing
To the other Bluu's dreams
Leaving hopes much too small
For the current Bluu?s teams!

It was quarter done season...
All the Bluus, still a-dread
All the Bluus, still a-coma
When he packed up his sled,
Packed it up with their hopes! Their support! Their good will!
The history! And the famers! The beginnings! The money till!

Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Saskatoon,
He went to the place that?ll be a new home soon!
"Pooh-pooh to the Bluus!" he was B.L.inch-ish-ly humming.
"They're finding out now that no cup is forthcoming!
"They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do!
"Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
"The all the Bluus down in Bluu-ville will all cry BOO-HOO!"


"That's a noise," grinned the B.L.inch,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the B.L.inch put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the ice.
It started in low. But it sounded quite nice...

But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this was a merry din!
Oft they would begin!
They sang as one "when the Bluu's go marching in! "

He stared down at Bluu-ville!
The B.L.inch popped his mind!
Then he shook!
What he saw was a shocking find!

Every Bluu down in Bluu-ville, the large and the small,
Was singing! Without any scoring at all!
He HADN'T stopped hockey from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the B.L.inch, with his B.L.inch-feet ice-cold up there,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be fair?
It came without players! It came without bucks!
"It came without ESPN, Stanley's or pucks!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the B.L.inch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe hockey," he thought, "doesn't come from some dollars.
"Maybe hockey...perhaps...is just a bit more blue-collared!"

And what happened then...?
Well...in Bluu-ville they say
That the B.L.inch's small wallet
Grew three sizes that day!
And the minute his heart wanted a team very fancy,
He got cut off mid check by a woman named Nancy
And he was brought back to earth! And the fans he did ream!
And he...

...HE HIMSELF...!
The B.L.inch sold off the fan's team

Comments:
Genius.

Everybody Sing!
"You're a mean one, Mr. BL-inch,
You really are a skunk.
..."
 
What about the uplifting end of the story? Where the B.L.inch has a change of wallet and brings back decent hockey.

Someone write that part soon.

Please.
 
was written, kinda. hmm got lost in the shuffle from keyboard to blog oh well, the "uplifting" ending as originally envisioned:

That's a noise," grinned the B.L.inch,
"That I simply must hear!"
So he paused. And the B.L.inch put a hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the ice.
It started in low. But it sounded quite nice...
But the sound wasn't sad!
Why, this was a merry din!
Joyously it would begin!
as one "when the Bluu’s go marching in! "
He stared down at Bluu-ville!
The B.L.inch popped his mind!
Then he twitched!
What he saw was a quite shocking find!
Every Bluu down in Bluu-ville, the large and the small,
Was singing! Without any scoring at all!
He HADN'T stopped hockey from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the B.L.inch, with his B.L.inch-feet ice-cold way up there,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be fair?
It came without players! It came without bucks!
"It came without ESPN, Stanley’s or pucks!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the B.L.inch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe hockey," he thought, "doesn't come from some dollars.
"Maybe hockey...perhaps...is just a bit more blue-collared!"
And what happened then...?
Well...in Bluu-ville they say
That the B.L.inch's small wallet
Grew three sizes that day!
And the minute his heart wanted a team a bit more fancy,
He got cut off mid check by a woman named Nancy
And he was brought back to earth! And the fans he did ream!
And he...
...HE HIMSELF...!
The B.L.inch sold off the fan’s team


p.s. the highlight in the blog part was not the authors! lol
 
Ok, I edited the post and fixed the ending. D'oh!
 
Absolute, sheer, unadulterated brilliance. Yet more proof that hockey folks are both smart and creative. ;)
 
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