Friday, September 9, 2005 Labour Day Memoirs of a Columbus Blue Jackets Coolie

(PERNS) - Let's start with the soccer, and I'll make it short. Congrats to HNK Zrinski Chicago for finally ending the CBP dynasty. Kudos to Kitchener for being a worthy and classy opponent against us in the third place game - you're what this tourney should be about. London, you got screwed...not that I don't feel for you, but been there, done that (Milwaukee anybody). Saturday's good... There was Simic's penalty shot against CSC for the win. Then Crnic's goal against Hrvat, followed by him ripping his jersey off only to have a Hammer Head t-shirt underneath, then finally getting smacked on the head as part of his celebration. I got a yellow card from Bosnjak for doing my halftime show in the Chicago Hrvat game. I still think it was undeserved, but it's all politics. I also got to hit a ref (we'll call him Jay Leno) over the head with my inflatable hammer. Then I hammered five chicks in a row...none of them went down. The penalty shot competition, the corner flag javelin throw, and Al Perns driving my car back to the Ramada - all very good things. Saturday's bad... Waiting in the hot sun for hours only to find out the team has to come back and play quarterfinals on Sunday. Don't get me wrong, it turned into a good drinking day for the fans, but you had to feel for the guys on the team. To Glazer and Barto - somebody always passes out...don't take it to heart, 2005 was just your turn. Saturday's P.S... Shotgun DragZ! Sunday's good... Whoever woke me up, 'cause after Saturday night's dance there was no way in hell I would've got to the fields on my own. Another good... Cousin Ive's re-take on the pk against Livno. "It's your lucky day Cousin Ive!" To Cleveland, we never look to you guys to join the party 'cause you're usually still playing. Anytime you get knocked out early, you've got friends in need - just leave the Jack on your side of the border. Sunday's bad... Taking the 427 South (instead of North) and exiting on Evans, then having to take the QEW to Winston Churchill...fuck, I might as well have drove back to Hamilton. Also, the scars on my stomach and chest from the head-first dive into the corner flag after my fourth successful halftime horn-toss - that sucked balls. Sunday's P.S... Shut 'er down, she's pumpin' mud! More P.Sesseses... Buy me a beer, two bucks a glass, come on, help me I'm freezing my ass. Buy me a brandy, a snifter of wine...who am I kidding, I'll drink turpentine. The Flaming Moe (Timmy, keep reachin' for those high notes buddy). Our country reeks of trees, our yaks are really large, and they smell like rotting beef carcasses. Hey ref, go back to FAGVILLE...population YOU! More Sunday goods... The Third Annual Presidential Pool Party...it would beat the snot out of my non-alcoholic Secretarial Pool Party any day - just check the pics. All the old-timers... Bob and Josie Vuksan, the Twin Towers, all thousand of the Grubisic's, i svi ostali - you've been around all season - the team and younger fans always appreciate the support! This is getting long, so just a few more shout outs... To Joey Poklecki... When you told me this was your first Sunday banquet and you heard all the past Hamilton stories, you were pissed 'cause this one sucked farts and fucked dead bears. You're what got me up in that chair yelling, "IT'S TIME TO TAKE OVER!" And Tournidis, it wasn't mere seconds later that you sow-cowed a couple of tables. The result - BANQUET CHAMPS! To Poklecki and the rest of the rookies, hope it keeps ya coming back! To the Bullet... When the cab driver asked where you were from, and you said, "New Orleans...I'm a tall guy, so once the water got up to my knees I knew it was time to get the fuck outta dodge. I jumped in my paddle boat, hammered it up the Mississippi, and here I am!" Outdone only by yourself, " you replied, "Big party. 'Bout 1500 people - my buddy just got circumsized. What the hell you laughing at, he's 28...there's fuckin' blisters everywhere!" Silvano, Leggatt and I (the long-lost brothers) nearly busted our guts. To the team and fans of Hamilton... All heart boys and girls. The 'A' Team says that we fans are their 12th man. At the risk of sounding cocky, if I can be so bold to say, the rest of you guys are MY 13th man - without everyone in the stands, I'd just look like a crazy old lunatic by myself doing somersaults in the middle of a field. We all did each other proud! I'm telling you, this never gets old. I was asked when enough is enough, and when it would be time to stop coming to tournament. Grbs, it's like I told you... "Even if my wife were in labour..."