Wednesday, March 5, 2008


Every morning while driving to the University of Missouri-St. Louis campus I tune into Team 1380.  Not to catch up on the mornings sports news, no I listen because I hope to hear another one of Doug Vaughn's hockey proverbs.  This man is an encyclopedia of hockey euphemisms.  I have been waiting for someone to put these gems in writing, and finally earlier this week buried under a Kelly Chase interview compiled this list of hockey wisdom.

• Put it on the shelf where momma hides the peanut butter.

• Raw-boned Canadian plow boy to drop anchor at the ladies tee and shove that garbage into the corner where the mice nibble at the baseboard.

• Plucky pack of puck slappers from the lone star state came out in the tertiary stanza and put the Fig Newton into the cookie jar.

• Our pillow stacker just couldn’t keep them off the tote board. They knocked our boys off of their slippers.

• It’s high time for some of these saucer-slapping snipers and the rugged rear guards to strap on the spurs and ride out on out to the forest and let the woodchoppers clear a trail right to grandma’s house and start dumping some meatballs in the crock pot.

• …blasted an awful lot of buckshot at the turkey but only one of the bb’s found the gobbler’s pie hole.

• The blue’s trail boss opened up the barn doors for the new baby bull and let him out into the pasture and he took some liberties with the other livestock and he turned them into back-bacon and headcheese.

• Hey big tough kid, let’s drop the mittens…

• If you can’t score with a lot of the old timers, it’s maybe time to put a leash around some of those old salty dogs and drag them around the back and put them in the pen and give the old yeller the what for and send some of the young pups on the sheet and see if they can’t drop some milk bones into the feed trough.

• It’s time for the Blues’ top bench jockey to dust off the silks and stand up in the irons and take a whip to some of those thoroughbreds and if he turns him into a gelding you don’t care if Mr. Ed does jaw-jack all the way back to the paddock.

• When you’re bearing down on the pipe cleaner you’ve go to go up top shelf where momma hides the peanut butter or down low in the corner where the mice nibble on the baseboard, you try to go five-hole on the pillow stacker every time and it’s just not going to work. The police of the crease will mace your face if you don’t shoot the boot scoot.

• …hit him right there and he was bleeding like a stuck pig, some shark got a wild hair up his dorsal fin and fired some stink-bait right up onto the shore – caught this raw-bone Bloosier plowboy right between the headlights and he was wearing the crimson mask until they took him off and stitched him up with cat guts and plumber’s tape.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Question. How does one drive to school when they are simultaneously sitting indian-style on the couch watching re-runs of Blossom?