Dialogue, Document, Donkey

Hey Hammers:

I would just like to say that it warms my cockles to see the BoH-blog being put to such good use. This morning, you all should have received author invites to this here blog thingee. By accepting, you become able to add content to the blog, which I strongly (but gently) encourage you to do. Know that you do not need author privileges to comment on the posts, which I also encourage you to do, in a similarly strong and no less gentle manner.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I love reading the email threads and post-game synopses. Let us keep it up.

Fear not the blog.

Saludos,
-AA

Here here.

Way to find the bright side Timmy, I couldn't agree more. Kudos to the ladies for carrying the play in the second half by quickly advancing every time we broke the cup.

I recall my confusion in reviewing the matchup on Thursday morning, in that Heavy Rotation (who we played in the last game of the playoffs in '08 - another rain-soaked affair) had been around too long to have an 0-3 record, and had the unusual pairing of a dreadful winning record and the worst spirit score of any team. Normally a favourable spirit score is a way for winning teams to throw their vanquished foes a bone or two, but evidently, HR are just as unpleasant to play against when they lose as when they win.

Have a delightful weekend all. Sorry to hear about Ryan's nads.

Little Timmy Sunshine

First things first, let's address the score. 15-to-fucking-3. Ugly no matter the mathematical stylings you choose.

Also ugly were the conditions - the field was a quagmire and I wouldn't be surpised to catch some flak from HRM for leaving a corner of Spryfield uglier than it was when we arrived. Cleats and socks ended up soaked, Chris sat on the sidelines with icicles forming on his nose and worst of all, our precious silver shirts were all muddied at some point in the action.

But call me crazy - I liked what we showed tonight. To wit:

• an improvement in the second half compared to the first;
• a willingness to get dirty in unpleasant conditions;
• a bit of "fuck you" attitude showed to a team that had no business being 0-3 in the Thursday standings; and
• (my favourite) fantastic fucking hands. Seriously - it was a slippery disc tonight but I really can't recall many drops. A few dicey throws, sure, but a there were a ton of fantastic snags out there. Nice hustle, kids.

We lost to a really good team. No biggie. We built some nice points after halftime and made it competitive. And if people are up for it, I'd love to get a practice together. A half-hour on the essentials of zone 'D' and countering the zone would do wonders for us as a team.

So I'll come out and say it - getting slaughtered on the muddy fields of Cowie Hill might be the best damned thing that ever happened to us as a team. Our heads are no longer in the clouds and we've recognized our need to work together as a team. We are not individual Hammers, but a collective Bag. The vengeance we shall wreak on the league shall be swift, unforgiving and mighty (but not to the point of hurting our spirit points).

I love you all.

xo

Tim

I'd like a Victory Burger, please - hold the Freedom Fries.

If it's Thursday, we must be winning. Am I right or am I right?

Maybe I shouldn't be this giddy about laying the smack down on kids born in the 1990s. Maybe I was just happy to get a game in when it didn't look like we had a field. Maybe I've been drinking ever since I got home.

But no matter what unreasonable heights I've reached since we first stepped foot on the Shannon Park turf, no one can deny the fact that the Bag of Hammers are on a winning streak.

And to top it off, I may have found my dream bar in the Ship Victory Restaurant and Lounge. An interior like a boat, a steady diet of classic rock played at a reasonable enough volume to allow conversation, and a dirt-cheap menu of greasified goodness. Mama I'm comin' home.

Congrats to all! And many thanks to Double-A for the photojournalism - I didn't know I was that skinny. Jesus. I need to eat more victory burgers.

Peace,
Tim

Action!

You can find the whole set here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/muiseam/sets/72157620568162050/ (or here in slide show form) - and a sample below...

I tried to get everyone - sorry to anyone who doesn't see themselves...

Great game Hammers!
-AA

Victory, Thy Name Is Silver.‏

Greetings all, I've just entered our winning score from last night on the HURL site and let me tell you, it felt fantastic.

Know what else felt nice? The cool flow of air against my torso as I galloped down the field during one of my three actual running efforts last night. Kudos to Eve for delivering the on the new jerseys. I felt like I was running around on the Commons shirtless. Say... any chance we can get shorts to match?

Full marks as well to first-time Hammers Aimee, Chris and Mark, who combined for more than half our points and increased our team athleticism exponentially. The best part is that they're all paid in full - we have them all season! Booyah!

Not all was fresh and new, however. It did my heart good to see Ivan and Chantelle take shifts together and vocally express their "support" for one another. It felt like 2001 all over again.

Great turnout at Freeman's last night, hope for more of the same in future weeks.

And if the weather's pleasant post-weekend, mayhaps we can get together for an hour or so early next week for a practice of sorts...

Peace in the Middle East,
Tim

p.s. For those who were absent last night, this is what we looked like running down the field in our new jerseys:

So This Is The New Year

The scene - Hammers have just taken a 3-1 lead over the all-bluey Random Fling. Aaron turns to Derek "I think we've got this one - we PWN this game" (PWN - pronounced "owwwwn"). Derek shudders and pretends he did not hear this, but it was too late - the jinx had been cast, like a stampeding PATRONUS curse, trampling any chance we had at victory.

But let us not talk about the score (which was 10-7, for them), or the dropped passes (which were numerous, from everybody), or the wobbly forehand passes (hi), or the turnout (which was scant), or whose fault this all was (because as we've already established, it was mine) - let us talk potential. Envision it - already resigned to our pending defeat, the Hammers stand along the goal line, awaiting the RF huck, and propose an experiment, nay - a gameplan: "let's try working on our short game". What followed was a series of surgically precise 10 yard passes that nearly resulted in what would have been the most beautiful point of the evening. Hammers, we have it in us; as a great man once said "if you want it, you got it, you just got to believe". That man, was Lenny Kravitz.

EDIT - I'd like to add that the actual "most beautiful point of the game" was the long Hammer (entendre!) from Derek to Ivan to finally drive a stake into that seemingly-interminable game... a thing of beauty.

See you next week!
-AA