New Rules

Aces representative received this email last week. 

Addendum to last week’s official letter from COTHL management: New Rules to be enforced immediately.

Hopefully everyone read our email from November 15 concerning our efforts to reduce the amount of chippiness and bad behaviour in the league. Just so there is no confusion, please read and memorize the following new rules, which are to be implemented beginning immediately.

Rule 1: No profanity.
Any instances of profanity will result in the application of either a minor or major penalty, depending on the severity of the swear:

damn: 2 minutes
h-e-double hockey sticks: 2 minutes
s-h-one-tee: 2 minutes
jesusmotherfuckingtapdancingchristonadirtbike: 4 minutes

Rule 2: No inappropriate touching
This includes all ‘hitting from behind’. Major penalty, match penalty if it includes penetration.

Rule 3: No arriving late.
All players must arrive before the midway point of the second period. Anyone arriving after that must buy the beer the following week.

Rule 4: Smack talk.
All smack talk from now on must be in the form of a dope rap. Any insults directed towards opposing players or officiating staff not accompanied by a wicked beat will be met with a major penalty. Rhyming is optional. Please note: Rule 4 will override Rule 1 if the dope rap includes profanity.

Rule 5: Aces rule.
As the record-holders for the most consecutive league championships, the Black Aces are to be paid tribute to before each game. Opposing teams must pay a duty of 6 pucks, a water bottle and 2 rolls of clear tape to the Aces. Items are to be laid in order on the Aces bench. No eye contact may be made.

League officials will monitor progress and re-evaluate during the Christmas break.

So there you have it, Aces. Hopefully these new rules don't get in the way of our upcoming juggernaut winning streak. Which did not begin last week. Still looking for win #1 of this season, but it's coming.

The Old Men and The C

This week's post was written by special guest Ernest Hemingway.

I'm looking at you, old men.

They were an old team who played in a league called the COTHL and they had gone eighty-four days now without taking a win. In the first forty days a stick boy had been with them. But after forty days without a win the boy’s parents had told him that the old team was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders to another team which signed three good players the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old team come in each week with their win column empty and he always went down to help them carry either the pucks or the sticks and beer and the sweaters that were faded and worn. The sweaters were patched with flour sacks and, furled, they looked like flags of permanent defeat.

The old men were thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the backs of their necks. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the golf course were on their cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of their faces and their hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy wooden sticks. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a winless desert.


Everything about them was old except their eyes and they were the same color as the ice and were cheerful and undefeated.

“Aces,” the boy said to them as they drained sad cans of discount beer. “I could go with you again. I’ve made some money.”


The old men had taught the boy to skate and the boy loved them.
“No,” the old men said. “You’re with a lucky team. Stay with them.” 


“But remember how you went eighty-seven days without win and then we won big ones every week for four weeks. We won the cup that year.”

“We remember,” the old men said. “We know you did not leave us because you doubted.”

“It was papa made me leave. I am a boy and I must obey him.”
 “We know,” the old men said. “It is quite normal.”
 “He hasn’t much faith.” 
“No,” the old men said. “But we have. Haven’t we?” 
‘Yes,” the boy said. “Can I offer you a beer at Ferro and then we’ll take the stuff home.”

“Why not?” the old men said. “Between hockey men.”

They sat at the bar at Ferro and many of the players from other teams made fun of the old men and they were not angry. Others, of the older players, looked at them and were sad. But they did not show it and they spoke politely about the ice and the refs and the steady good weather and of what they had seen.

“May I get you more beers? I know where I can get four pizza slices too.” 
“I have mine left from today. I put them in salt in the box.”
 “Let me get four fresh ones.”
 “One,” the old men said. Their hope and confidence had never gone. But now they were freshening as when the breeze rises.
 “Two,” the boy said. 
“Two,” the old men agreed. “You didn’t steal them?” 
“I would,” the boy said. “But I bought these.” 
“Thank you,” the old men said. They were too simple to wonder when they had attained humility.

But they knew they had attained it and they knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride. 

“Next week is going to be a good game with this team,” they said.

“Better than a 5-0 loss to the Battlers” the boy said.

“Yes” said the old men. “It will be a good game.”


Aces pose after their most recent win

This week's entry is based on this original story.

A Poem

Spoken Word poet Fez5 performs an original composition at the most recent Nod Club Poetry Slam Open Mike Night and Marijuana Recipe Exchange

the lights dim except for a solitary red spot shining on Fez5, a person of indeterminate age, heritage, gender, and possibly species, wearing some very dark glasses.

"Thanks y'all. Peace."

"A!! A is for A says me.
For Aces. So black, so white. But that doesn't matter
as a matter of fact what matters is what's the matter with...
the Aces."

Fez5 pulls out a bongo drum from beneath his/her/its poncho. Possibly a Mexican poncho, but quite possibly also a Sears poncho purchased at a steep discount at a recent clearance sale at the Scarboro Town Centre location.

Fez hits the bongo a single time, then holds it up with one hand and continues, speaking directly to it.

"A gathering of men. Men who gather, I gather, to shoot pucks and cut ice.
But that doesn't cut any ice with me.
Not until a W appears.
W!! for wednesday
W!!! for winter
W!!!! for win, terminating
this string of woe."

The bongo disappears back into the possibly Mexican poncho.

"F!! is for five. The number of times these Ace men have fallen.
Fallen and not gotten up. What the F, Aces? Have you
forgotten how to W?
and don't talk to me of ties. Ties are for
business men
hockey men don't wear ties. "

Fez takes off the dark glasses and makes a disgusted face. The bongo falls to the ground with a sad 'bop' and lays at his feet.

"I mean come on! You seein' this shit? Only half the team showin' up and half of them showin' up late? I got money on these clowns, yo. And they not even takin' it serious! Damn."

Fez kicks the bongo into the crowd and stomps off.

Latest results: Warriors 6, Aces 5 with a couple of posts hit in the final 60 seconds.

Sorry, Fez. We can do better.

Aces Season Forecast

All signs point to beers at Ferro

Local hockey team the Black Aces continue to play the ‘long game’ in their quest for a record-breaking 6th consecutive COTHL title this year, skating themselves and rival squad the Wyse Guys to a 2-2 standstill in their most recent match.

Team statistician and sometime strategist Pete S explains: “Mathematically speaking, a team with our level of talent should win more games than we lose. In this league the only games that matter are the final 2 - the playoffs. If we hold off and save our wins for later in the season this improves our chances of another league title. So we take our time getting wins until down the road.”

Are the Aces on the right track? Your intrepid reporter has done some complicated math using something called 'imaginary numbers' (a real thing, you can look it up) and has come up with a highly accurate long range forecast for the 2017-2018 season, based on the team’s early results.

Game 1: 5-3 Loss
Game 2: 4-3 Loss
Game 3: 5-5 Tie, gave away a 4 goal lead
Game 4: 2-2 Tie, gave away a 1 goal lead

If this pattern continues this is what we can expect:

Game 5: Aces 3, Warriors 2. Aces come back from a 1 goal deficit and win with last-minute goal

Game 10: Aces 12, Wyse Guys 0. Game is halted after 2 periods as WGs refuse to leave their bench.

Game 15: Aces 99, Battlers 0. Battlers team scores 99 ‘own goals’ while the Aces sip imported beer on their bench. Aces are investigated for using banned mind control techniques but nothing is proven.

Game 20: Aces Titanium, Warriors Lithium. Clearly the Aces win this one.

Game 23: Aces 357, Warriors -12⁵. Laws of physics ignored, time is reversed within Phil White Arena. Jesus appears on a flying zamboni wearing an Aces windbreaker and sequined cowboy boots, a now beautiful Zamboni Girl on his arm.

Playoffs: Aces lose both games by a score of 8-0, having mathematically exhausted their supply of wins (and miracles).

Clearly we have to pace ourselves, gentlemen, if we expect to take home the hardware in March. So let’s continue our current style of play just a little longer - the giveaways, the indifferent clearing attempts, the unnecessary penalties. John, a little less of the steady netminding please.

Early game this week. Warriors. You know what (not) to do.

Aces Give Thanks

Local hockey team the Black Aces celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving this past week by giving away a big lead against rivals the Bloor Battlers.

Up 5-1 in the second, the blackshirts somehow decided that they were uncomfortable with such a commanding lead and generously gave 4 straight goals back to the enemy. After the game, team Buddhist Monk Paul M was pleased with the result:

“Earthly possessions will only negatively impact ones karma and should be shunned whenever possible” said Mike through a thick haze of “incense” . “The Aces followed the dharma beautifully tonight by letting go of a 4 goal lead. The game resulted in a perfectly balanced state, as you can see. We are on the correct path.”

Other players saw things a little differently. Team psychoanalyst James D provided his post-game analysis in a series of numbered tweets:

1. Stunning turnaround on the ice tonight at the PWA. Black Aces self-sabotaged a sure win, possibly due to unresolved father issues. #WTF

[many tweets later]

38. In conclusion, I believe only an extended round of weapons-grade Seratonin Re-uptake Inhibitors and beer will lift the team out of this depression. I’ll be recommending this course of action and writing all Aces a script for SRIs ASAP #iheartbigpharma

Team guitar technician Mike K wasn’t so sure about James’ analysis. “This is all because we missed training camp” said Mike “We didn’t set the tone for the season by getting obliterated on the golf course together before the season began. Every good team knows this is mandatory. All the best teams do it, it’s a Canadian tradition. I’m doing my best to put together a better-late-than-never camp but the weather isn’t cooperating. We may have to get obliterated on the ski hill instead. Or head down to our southern headquarters in Bucarias, Mexico, just as soon as hurricane season ends.”

Aces goals were meaninglessly provided by Ralph, Joe D, new guy Martin, Rich and Pete S.

Make the Aces Great Again

Transcript of a recent speech from POTUS #45, during the visit of Stanley Cup champions the Pittsburgh Penguins to the White House.

* * *

Hello, welcome to the White House… penguins is it? You don’t look like penguins. Penguins are much smaller and you guys are very big. Yuge. Very big men. The biggest maybe. Tremendous size.

People are saying that your team is a very great team, very great. Maybe even the best. Tremendous talent. But do you know of another team called, what are they called again Sarah? The Aces? The Black Aces. Black Aces? Just the sweaters, oh. Tremendous team, but so far this year… not good. Not good.

I’ve created over a million jobs since I’m president, the economy is booming, we have the highest employment numbers we’ve ever had in the history of our country but the Aces are still struggling. Lost all their games this year. Every one of them. Sad.

So penguin men I want you to ask yourselves how can we make the Aces great again.  Maybe I should just meet with them, do you think? Because my dad said I have the Midas touch, everything I touch turns to gold. So I could touch the Aces. And that would make them great again. Believe me. Crooked Hillary could never do that. But I don’t like to touch people so maybe that wouldn’t be great.

But you know what I like about the Aces? They’re real. Not fake. Not fake. Not like those other teams, the failing Warriors or the fake Battlers. The Wyse Guys? Not very wise. Not wise. They did ask me to coach them though, so maybe they are smart after all. Begged me. Donald, they said, you’d make the best hockey coach in the history of hockey, please coach us. But I said no. Not wise enough. They have some very fine players but I had to say no because the Aces are my team and only I can help them become great again. By not touching them.

If I had been at their last game maybe they wouldn't have lost 4-3 to the Warriors. That's what many people are saying right now. But I was in Puerto Rico saving the Puerto Ricans with some beautiful soft paper towels. People were cheering, it was beautiful. So much work.

Ok penguins, that's all I have time for. Back to the north pole you go.

Have a good time.

* * *

Wow, Aces. That was something. As DJT said, a 4-3 loss to an improved Warriors squad with goals coming from Mark and both Petes. We still have some work to do.

Let's Play...

Local ice hockey team the Black Aces began their quest for a sixth straight COTHL title this week in their usual fashion - slowly. Minutes before game time only a light dusting of players could be found in the room, with many regulars opting to give the opening night a miss in order to tend to more important matters, no doubt.

“But Scribe” I hear you ask “What could be more important than starting the new season off right, especially when a world record 6th straight championship is on the line?”

I know, Dear Reader, I hear you. How could anything take precedence over such a critical sporting event? Maybe we should check in with the missing Aces and see.

Simon - soccer injury. Fortunately all soccer injuries can be instantly cured by the application of a damp sponge, so Simon should be ready for game 2
Rod - was still celebrating last year’s big win as late as last week, so is recovering from alcohol poisoning
Mark - training with Gary Roberts to increase his chances of a last minute call-up to the Las Vegas Golden Showers (Golden Nights farm team)
Pete T - on tour with the SnuggleFucks, a children’s punk band specializing in play dates for children under 2 (and their hot moms)
Joe H - climbing K2 with the Sherpa Grrls. They aren’t Sherpas, they are an all-girl metal band from Katmandu. Average age: 16.1
Paul - on his way to Puerto Rico by bicycle, bringing much-need supplies of food and MAGA hats to desperate hurricane victims

One man who did make the extra effort is team owner, manager, and now goddam inspiration Aubrey S, recently recovered from hip surgery and because he liked it so much the first time, prepping for one more this week. His presence behind the bench (literally, behind the bench) was not enough to rally the troops however, and the Aces finished with a 5-3 loss to the Wyse Guys.

No problem though. The Aces know that getting out of the starting gate too quickly can lead to burnout. Better to play possum for now and save energy for the home stretch (aka, the final 2 games of the year) than to rush into things.

Score sheet: 2 for Ralph, 1 for Pete S.