I am not an old beer leaguer, but I’m getting older. For perspective, I now skate with kids of guys I played along side in high school. Point being, I am well established in my beer league career and know what kind of player I am. I am well-established in my role, and I am (by beer league standards) relatively successful at it.
Most of you would call me “the asshole,” or “the big mouth.” I prefer the term “pest” or “instigator,” I’ll even accept “grinder” or “high energy player.” I’ll pot a few goals, I’ll play short handed, but most importantly-and the part of my game I’m most proud of, is my ability to run my mouth at 100mph.
As a Bruins fan, I often think of myself as a Marchand type player. I have a Marchand-esque nose, a Marchand like mouth, and Marchand comparable hands. In the sense that we both have hands, technically. Though his appear to work much better than mine. But that’s beside the point. Speaking of Boston, come play with us
But I love, //love// chirping the other team. There is nothing more satisfying or rewarding that firing a chirp so inspired and so on point it causes the other team to take a penalty, or do something dumb. In all likelihood I’m not going to dangle you, but I can say something so cutting it causes you to react like this:
@_ghost_host@heybarber @slapshot @hockeytiktoks beer league hero at it again.♬ original sound – Justin
Until recently, players like me weren’t common. Most guys were too busy trying to get better at actual hockey related skills. Stick-handling, shooting, skating – that kind of stuff. So my domain was relatively unimpeached upon as other players didn’t have the confidence or the toolbox to drop a fire line at a crucial moment in a game.
That all changed with Letterkenny, and not for the better. Normally the mainstreaming of a skill invites innovation and imitation. Look at all the players pulling off the Zegras pass lately, or the variations of the Michigan goal we’ve been seeing. It’s awesome to watch players take something, and get creative with it.
That hasn’t been the case with chirping. Suddenly, and without warning, you’ve got teams full of wanna-be Shoresy’s telling you to give your balls a tug, or b-side Jonesy’s telling you they’ve heard better chirps from a dead bird.
It’s tiring and it’s uninspired. You don’t see me trying to dangle between my legs – because it’s not part of my game and I’m not good at it. Maybe don’t try to be funny with a letterkenny one-liner when you’re just re-hashing season 1 chirps. You end up sounding dumb and dragging down the art of the quip.
The ice rink isn’t a charity, and you’re not Riley. I’m not giving you a free one like you’re some kind of make-a-wish kid. Give it up and do something useful, like backcheck – you pheasant.