Match Report: It Never Gets Old!

Do you ever feel sorry for the Yankees? No. No matter how many times Chuck Knoblauch pumped before throwing to first, no matter how many no-name scrubs got trotted out to pitch last year, no matter how many embarrassing A-Rod revelations there are, you NEVER feel sorry for Yankees. They are the evil empire, after all. It is axiomatic therefore that you never tired of beating them, either. There is no pity. No matter how much the Sox dominate the Yankees this millennium, each win feels like a championship victory. The same is true for beating the Habs. Each time the puck goes past a flailing Canadien net minder, it feels like a goal of the year. There is extra joy derived from the little things, each smackdown, each sweet pass, and of course each time the puck is pinged into the net.

So too is there endless pleasure from beating Arsenal. First of all, they call themselves "Arsenal." This is simply ridiculous. It is the equivalent to naming a soccer team in Salt Lake after Real Madrid...okay, bad example. The point is, they begin things by wearing a bulls-eye the size of Ohio. Second, they are the biggest collection of self-indulgent, smug, and whining brats outside of France. Third, they simply suck.

All of these qualities were on display yesterday, from their biggest douche calling me a "fag," to their collective whining about their lack of a "real keeper." This was said, with all due respect to Dave, while our "real keeper" was on the sideline in plain clothes.

As for the match, it started with DPR in the usual situation of no subs. It was even worse, as Paul's sidelining left stand-in John Longo (seriously, that is his name) to start the first half in goal. Things started slowly, as Arsenal actually led for a bit, and the two sides traded goals for the first half. Our first half goals include a nice 2-0 with me and Dan resulting in a Dan tap-in, me dribbling through the whole team and slotting the ball in the far post, and me dribbling around the keeper and ever-so-gently tapping it with my left so that it barely cr0ss the goal line.

The second half saw DPR more focused. What else was different? Hmmmm...oh yeah, we swapped Dave for John in goal. The move paid off, since Dave's tweaked groin had limited his lateral movement. Although he denies it, Dave made some good saves, but more importantly was able to run forward with the ball and lead a renewed counterattack against the Arses. John and Mike started to win possession, and Dan and me buzzed around net finding open shots. I executed what may have been the first double-spatula move in league history. Trade secret rules prohibit me from describing the move.

Final score:

DPR 15 - 9 Arsenal

Team record: 2-0-1