Friday, July 10, 2015

HONEY MUSTARD!

On your hot dog. In your end zone. All over your Dodgeballs.

Oh, Dodgeball – the general chill-ness of most of your team is consistently, utterly and completely undone by your inadvertently condescending earnestness, forced spirit and the explicit, raging douchery of no less than (by my count) THREE of your brethren. True, the “Iso-Lars” is no more, but the Froot Joose and the flagrant body contact and the questionable foul-calling persists. That said, even though it was far and away our most contentious game, and we ultimately lost, and Greg may have sustained a serious spinal injury on top of some horrible-looking turf-burn*, it was probably my favourite game of the year.

Whyfore? Well, let me count the ways:
  • ALL THE HIGHLIGHTS… SO MANY HIGHLIGHTS!
  • D-Land shamelessly going “skins”, I assume to intimidate the opposition;
  • Greg (or maybe Partner/Handbags) flatly rejecting his loaner white jersey that reeked like turned milk and assholes, in favour of a small ladies tank top;
  • Chippy’s epic 60-yard dash and lay-out to chase down a long put from D-Land (confirm?), which was ultimately unsuccessful but finished with a fearless, face-first porpoise dive – AND CHEERS!
  • The consistent big D from Honey, and the subsequent confusion from the opposing benches (“Are they calling her Honey?” “They’re using code words!”);
  • Jeeves silent Fuck You to Mr. Joose: angrily tossing the disk at his feet, mid-argument, after a particularly egregious out of bounds call;
  • Related: Coach and Sally’s refusal to respond with extreme prejudice in the face of explicit, raging douchery (as noted);
  • Tim’s flailing end zone decoy, which allowed a sneaky Jeeves to grab an easy point; and
  • The elegant beauty of our penultimate score of the evening – Bunny to AA to Honey to D-Jean/Peltch – hitherto known as THE HONEY MUSTARD POINT!
But there were so many others I feel I am forgetting (please, amend in the comments!). Read, re-live, repeat – it’s Friday!

The Ship Victory Ironic Yet Surprisingly Appetizing Victory Burger Player of the Game goes, collectively, to Honey Mustard (i.e. Honey & Mustard, the D-Jean variety) for some serious elite-type performances. It was unanimous. Note that this is in addition to the WTTWD Beer-it Award to Captain Becky, which is at least the third time she has won the award from the Dodgeball team. We’ve concluded that they have a crush on you. Watch out Mike!

Next game is at the Wanderer’s Grounds. Apparently, despite the loss, we’ve improved quite a bit, so it should be a good one!

Kisses,
AA

*But seriously, Greg, hope your neck is okay!

9 comments:

Unknown said...

I was starting to wonder if they have a crush on me too....lol No idea why i was awarded that beer. I think i did more swearing than anyone out there last night! However, i didn't tell a dude off (ya, thats right AA) or yell "that is the worse call ever" and slam the disc down (Jeeves) I did like that move ps! So maybe i did deserve that beer after all ;)

Honey (mustard?) said...

My favorite part of that blog was right at the beginning: "your inadvertently condescending earnestness"

"You used to suck, but now you suck less." Um, thanks?

muiseam said...

Thing is, I think we beat them twice last year, maybe three times. Lol.

DanM said...

That was a really fun game (despite Foot Joose) and great team spirit!

Classic D-Land!

chippy said...

you are a maestro with words, AA! but you omitted mention of the sexual innuendos and general sexual akwardness that came (haha!) with the awarding of the spirit beer!

Tim/Jay said...

Spirit Beer is the new Tinder

muiseam said...

I love this team

MK said...

After today's email, I had to check the blog comments. I am glad I did. Chippy's use of "came" and "Spirit Beer is the new Tinder" is the best things ever written in the comment section. I agree AA - I love this team. I wonder who Becky can pick up this week at the Wanderers Grounds?

MK said...

In other news - Greg's neck and spine are fine but last night I put my hand on his shoulder to be met with "NOOOOO, NOT THE SHOULDER." Astro-turf burn is indeed the worst.