Friday, May 25, 2007


(or was it fakies?)

Hey my fellow woodsmen and puck heads. Greetings for a wonderful USA holiday: Memorial Day 2007.

Hope that all of you guys have your weekends planned cuz there sure as shit ain’t any hockey on the tube in my neck of the woods until Monday night. Yours neither, I expect.

I didn’t get so lucky as to find the Stanley Cup Finals going to Detroit and Buffalo like I wanted. Instead we’ll have to settle for the Ducks versus the Senators. It might be inspiring play - don’t know. We’ll see, ehh?

So, because I spent some years in Southern California as a Kings fan (and still am) and because of the close proximity I’ll toss my hat for the Ducks in this round. But I’m tellin ya, I ain’t no Ducks fan!

Moving on here and before getting to the subject at hand I gotta ask "You guys walking with wood this past week?" Ehh? Couldn’t hear ya here - just deathly silent here in the back woods. Whasup my friends?

Those of you in the know understand that I write mainly factual shit; spiced up a bit to get your attention and maybe give ya a chuckle or two while ya read. Today ain’t no diff. I spent quite some time doing the research on this blog and then married the story to some of my past experiences. Hope ya like it. Let me know.

If you’ve read all of my stories you know that I’ve got a thing for cheerleaders, right? Ehh, which of you boys don’t? Take off, you ain’t no hoser in my book then. Short skirts, stimulating cheers, pom poms, the whole damn works. I like it all - no doubt about it.

Well, I like hockey like crazy and I like to read a lot too. Reading about hockey though is going to get kinda slow in a couple of weeks. Shiiite! It’s already down to about nothin. So any article in my newspaper has been devoured and savored like the last bit of browning and ice cream that you slobber up as ya wipe the bowl with your index finger. Oh, another tasty little morsel. What’s this say?

I subscribe to two newspapers. One is local and so small its a wonder that they can publish it on a daily basis. There usually isn’t any hockey articles published in it. Just the local gab that I try to keep up on in case I’ve gotta chat with some one down at the bar or liquor store or something. The other paper is considerably larger and is published in one of the larger gay-ass cities on the west coast. This second paper covers hockey; so I read it like any dumb ass puck head would.
Today’s edition had two small blurbs - neither more than a couple of column inches on an inside page of their sports section. The first was some more follow up on the gambling issues with Rick Tocchet and the other was about Courtney Prince, the former head cheerleader of the New York Ranger’s "Ranger City Skaters."

Jasper Wheats here is going to discuss the cheerleader of course. Ya bet your damn ass I am!

It seems as though Ms. Prince has filed a sexual discrimination law suit against Madison Square Garden. Actually I believe that she filed the lawsuit back in 2004 so this business has been going on for some time. Some of you guys out there may know a lot more about this thing then I do, but I’m going to summarize the relevant issues that I understand.

Courtney, as it was, had been the head cheerleader and led practice sessions and led the cheer team at home Ranger events. She of course was instructed to teach the other girls moves that were sexually alluring, etc. Sex sells I’ve heard; so if there’s nothing going on on the ice then ya might as well watch these honey’s, ehh? She made about $150 per game which doesn’t sound like bad money, but ya gotta figure they weren’t paying these girls for their practice time.

The Garden has a policy that these cheerleaders and Rangers aren’t supposed to fraternize with each other. Apparently there was no such restriction between the Gardens’ staff and the cheerleaders. After a game in late 2003 Courtney was at a bar on New York’s Westside called Daddy-O’s. I don’t think Daddy-O’s has anything to do with my good bud Robbie-O, but who knows it could be his hep brother’s place that he never talked to me about.

So anyway, Courtney’s at Daddy-O’s waitin on a quesadilla and maybe or maybe not hangin with James Vogel, PR for the Rangers, and Jason Diamos, reporter for the New York Times. The claim here is that Vogel played some tongue hockey on Courtney and suggested a threesome. She shot him down and later warned her girls on the squad that there was someone on the Ranger staff that was a sexual predator. Mix and mingle folks - it ain’t what it used to be, ehh?

Shortly thereafter she was let go from the Ranger City Skaters. Allegations are bouncing back and forth.

Some say she’s bipolar. Others that she’s suffering from hypersexuality (whatever the heck that is I want some of it). Some of the girls say that she told them to make the fans feel like they want to get in your pants. Some of them say that she told them to stuff their bras if they felt the need. She says that the Garden’s executive staff instructed her to say that.

I don’t really care. Its just this little bit here towards the end that I’m concerned with. Do these girls have fakies or not? Nah, that’s not it. I like how the whole package looks. Entice me ladies. Real or not the requirement from me is for anything fake to be functional or toss it. I mean, you guys, look at me, I’ve got a fake hip. It works. I love it. Ain’t no bullshit! Fake this - fake that. From my perspective if it looks right or it acts right, then its A-OK.

So when’s it not OK. Let me tell ya a true story.

A couple of years after I quit playing full check hockey and joined the ranks of old farts playing non-check I came across a faky. This jerks name was Hurt. You know like painful. Hurt was a genuine faky from the get go. He played on one of the teams in our league - I can’t remember the name of it for the life of me. He really sucked. If it had been me running the league at that time I’d have put him down with the Squirt A’s or lower. The dude just couldn’t skate. I mean give him a chair to push around. It didn’t bother me so much when we played his team cuz he was just another pylon to skate around. The problem that I had is that someone allowed him to officiate games also.

Holy shit if that wasn’t a mistake!

He couldn’t keep up with the play and I’m not sure if he really knew how to interpret the rules. At least that’s my contention and I’m stickin by it.

As was typical for most of us that transitioned from checking to non-check; I had a hard time staying out of the box. As a defenseman I worked the slot a little too hard on occasion or took ‘em into the boards or dumped someone into our bench every once in a while shooting for a free beer later, or what have ya. And on this particular night I don’t remember what got me in a fix. But I figure that some a da Irish came outta me - arguing or maybe even some physicality with Hurt after the call. Well the shiite little faky tossed me!

Pissed me off like ya can’t believe, ehh? The dudes so far from walking with wood that he’s just a flamin mush pie.

Jingles skates over to me and in his vicious nice way gets my ass off the ice. Someone serves my penalty as the game continues on. Ding dang fakies don’t belong on the ice. I’ve got no respect for somebody faking to be something that they can’t be - not in a million years. Ya hear?

I’m sitting in the dressing room taking off my gear so I can get back out and watch the end of the game when Jingles’ oldest kid runs into the dressing room. We call him Ry-Guy. He’s about ten years old at the time and sometimes sits on the bench with us wearing a helmet and helping out running water bottles and such. Good kid, always an entrepreneur, taping sticks and other shit for us in the locker room for tips. He’s finished his undergrad now and is going to go to law school soon. Like I said - good kid.

Well Ry-Guy yells "Uncle Jasper, Uncle Jasper! Hurt just broke his leg!"

I said, "You kidding me, ehh?"

"No." he says. "Come on out and see."

So I walk out a the dressing room, turning my sock liners black walking on the rubber mats in the rink, and look through the glass at the near corner. Way down to the other end I could see that faky Hurt sprawled on the ice screamin his fool lungs out.

Deserved it, I’m thinking.

Ry-Guy goes, "I was on the bench and everybody starting saying that you must have a Voodoo doll in your bag!"

"That’s not bad Ry-Guy", I say chuckling, "But I wish he’d quit screamin. It’s makin me kinda sick."

I don’t know how the game ended up - seems like the final score is never as important as the adrenaline of playing. Hurt had broke both bones in his leg right above the top of his skate boot. Probably did hurt like hell. Did he deserve it? I don’t know. Was it Voodoo Hockey? Nah, I wouldn’t tell ya if it was. I sure for shit though to this day think that he was one of the biggest fakies of all time that ever laced on the skates.

I admire him for loving our sport and trying to be a part of it - but the dude was just way outta his league.

If your going to do it then do it right! Ehh? No fakies allowed.

Walk with wood my friends!

Sunday, May 20, 2007


Isn’t so ding-dang funny

Hey there my hockey buddies. Jasper Wheats here dishin some more hockey shiite. I’m feeling pretty good right now; watchin some good hockey on my TV and the Redwings are up right now one to nothin just startin the third period of game five. Yep, some good shiite when the team ya want to win is up. Walking with wood here my puckster crew.

But what the f…. happened yesterday???????

Thought it was also going to be a good day. I wake up and look over the end of the bed and see the nice framed poster artwork that the wife got me. Its a watercolor sort of a tranquil forest scene titled Morning Wood. Ehh? It’s always great to know that that Morning Wood is there when I start each and every day.

So I roll on out of bed do my morning toilet, take some ibuprofen for all my aches and pains, get the coffee going and fire up some ham and eggs for the morning meal. Ah that smells so good! So I chow and chug it all down and burp a little bit like a good boy.

Its still earlier then most of you puckheads are willing to get up on a Saturday morning. Ehh, had a little drinkiepoo last night, did ya? Yeah, in my day ya couldn’t keep up with me. No way, no how!

Anyway like I said it was still early, so I went for my twenty mile bike ride. Good shit ya know, gets me some of that extra exercise that I need now that I’ve started getting pudgy about the middle. Love handles they say. Beautiful day! Usually see some deer and sometimes wild turkeys. Today, the only wildlife I got see were a couple of jackrabbits. Wonder what they were up to, ehh?

I got back from the ride after about two hours and was a smidgen thirsty so I pounded a quick one before I turned on the TV for the Senators versus Sabres fifth game. Got myself settled into the recliner and to control of the clicker.

Good game to watch. I was rooting for Buffalo so was pleased to see that they held their own through regulation. I mean, you guys, they came into this game down three to one in the series. Ehh? And I wanted them to get to the finals.

Well shit the third period ended all tied up and what the f… do you think NBC does?????

Instead of continuing to follow the game they switch over to some damn horse race! The Preakness I guess it what they called this horse shit thing. I mean give me a break, buckeroo. This isn’t even a sporting event. Its a race where the only athletes are the horses. Dang gone was I pissed! The worst of it was that race didn’t even start until about an hour after the switch from hockey.

NBC thinks this must be some kind of special event considering they didn’t continue covering the Stanley Cup semi-final series game going into overtime. For what’s only as far as I can tell is a spectator sport only, if ya can call it a sport. I’m serious you guys. How many of ya have ever been in a horse race? OK, now how many of ya have ever played hockey? See? Not even close.

So, don’t rag on me you guys but I watched this shit. They interviewed the owners. What’s your strategy? "Oh I’m going to leave that up to the jockey." So they interview the jockeys. "Oh I’m going to let the horse do its thing, let him out and see what he does." So, this crap is all up to the horse. What a crap shoot, ehh?

Shit these little guys that are jockeys aren’t even athletes. Are they? Seems as though when you say "jockey" I just see these little guys out on rich peoples’ lawns. Well that’s where Frank Zappa

said that they were. I mean the soul purpose of a jockey is to knock them off the lawn; something that you do when your playing mailbox baseball. Swing away, ya know!
NHL Stanley Cup Playoffs in overtime or some stinking horse race???????? NBC, what were you thinking?????

So today I find out the remainder of the game was televised over on Versus. That would have been fine to know yesterday. Oh my goodness do I feel like a fool. I get Versus you know you guys? Oh my brain is smolderin now just thinkin about it. GRRRR!

Ya know though. I talked to my bro Jingles one day last week during a Ducks vs Redwings game and he said that he had to listen to it on the radio ‘cuz he doesn’t get Versus. Well, I haven’t talked to him today but I know him pretty damn well and he gets ticked off easily. We had our share of fights. So I’m sure that he was just steaming yesterday too.

How about you guys? How do ya feel about this horse shit? Let me know, ehh.

Maybe today they’ll do better as today’s game is just now going to start OT. Can NBC redeem itself and walk with wood again? We’ll see.

Monday, May 14, 2007


I’ve gotta be really hungry right now or something. Actually I’m bored shitless watching another Sabres versus Senators game. The second period just started in game three of the 2007 eastern conference finals. Since the first couple minutes of the game I haven’t been able to get too excited over these two teams, even though I want Buffalo to win this series (right now there’s a fat chance of that happening). I truthfully can’t imagine either of these teams winning a game against the Ducks or Wings in the Stanley Cup finals.

Sorry guys - I’m just really disappointed that neither of these teams seem to be walking with wood right now. We’ll see, ehh?

Another thing, I’m feeling that this is going to be one of my weaker blog postings. It just doesn’t have the bite that I want it to have; so sometimes I really suck too.

Eat shit and die! Read em and weep, puck buddies!

Eat sandwiches and laugh, well maybe laugh. I’ve been reading bulletins on MySpace for too long and this just looks like one of those piece a shit lists that everybody seems to repost cuz their so f’n bored (Ya for sure - sorry Tom).

But who gives a rat’s ass - I don’t get paid to do this. Its just so damn fun.

I made a list of as many names of sandwiches as I could think of and then made up some bogus hockey action that the sandwich name is supposed to mean. Hey if ya don’t like it then make up your own. Ehh? What’s that shit ya say?

Bologna Sandwich - The shit that sportscasters talk about before the game and in between periods.

BLT - Butt, Leg, Toe - just a bit of slew footing.

Cheeseburger - Almost scoring on a slap shot but ya catch some pipe.

Chicken Salad Sandwich - More commonly seen in youth hockey where the player with the puck shies away from a check but gets blind sided by another opponent.

Dagwood Sandwich - the pile up of players on the winning team after winning a highly significant game such as the Olympics, NCAA, Stanley Cup, or your league.

Fish Sandwich - Making a move that puts you close to your opposing defender causing him to make a stick infraction.

French Dip - A full body deke where you’re going three or four directions at once, basically removing your opposing defender’s jock strap. Originally developed by Gilbert Perault of

Buffalo’s famous French Connection line.

Fried Egg Sandwich - A knockout, concussion, any hit that leaves ya dazed and confused. (Led Zeppelin played hockey, ehh?)

Grilled Cheese - The losing team’s coach catching shit in the post game news conference.

Grilled Ham and Cheese - A photo op where your toothless grin is oh so visible. (see Ham and Cheese Sandwich)

Ham Sandwich - A dive where you get two minutes because it was so ridiculously obvious.

Hamburger - Standard fare shot on goal that’s been blocked or was an easy save.

Ham and Cheese Sandwich - Gloating after a great goal making for a decent photo op.

Hot dog - A player that’s playing in a league below his f’n real level. Someone that you just love to take out.

Kraut dog - A player that uses a lotta wood work; cross checking, hooking and high sticking.

Mashed Potato Sandwich - An unfortunate injury that occurs during the pre-game warm up. (Yeah, my son-in-law loves these - hot or cold - don’t even matter a stinkin little bit.)

Meatloaf Sandwich - Post game video analysis of your last losing game. Your coach provides everybody with their fair share of ass chewing - ahh sorry there I meant constructive criticism.

Montecristo Sandwich - The element of setting up for a face-off with all the positioning; physically, verbally, and psychologically.

Pancake Sandwich - Double teamed slam usually resulting in a fried egg sandwich.

Patty Melt - Poor refrigeration management resulting in really shitty ice. Most common problem on Ranger home ice.

PB & J - Puck Blocking and Joisting - Tough defensive play in front of the net - highly reminiscent of the play of former LA King Gilles Marotte.

Philly Cheese Steak - Bench clearing brawl. Not to common anymore except in beer leagues. Made famous by the Broad Street Bullies.

Poor Boy Sandwich - A cheapskate looking for free hockey. (See my previous blog about Robbie-O.)

Ruben Sandwich - The unfortunate inability to recognize a professional player when he’s out of uniform or with his helmet off. They all look like Peewee Herman.

Sloppy Joe - Dropping the puck to your lagging skate, then kicking it ahead to your stick side past your defender; again dropping his jock.

Steak Sandwich - Scoring on a slap shot.

Submarine Sandwich - Boarding that elicits plenty of fan excitement.

Tuna Salad Sandwich - A good looking goal until after video review its determined to be no good. Tastes great but burps up really fowl.

Turkey Sandwich - A defensive pairing that really sucks.

Veggie Delight - While watching a televised game the cameraman pans a stunning honey that’s not really watching the game - but you figure that she might still have been a good date.

OK, so that’s it. I ain’t walking with wood so good this week. But I wrote it and you read it.

Done and done - the woods are dark ………………


Sunday, May 6, 2007


I’ve written some previous BS about a valuable early hockey stick that was worth an immense value in US dollars (ya not too much Canadian though). At the time of that writing I figured that some of my old sticks were probably worth a good bit of moola too.

Here’s an update on that story: I haven’t had single ding dang offer for my old wood. What’s the deal with that, ehh? I mean shit howdy if I didn’t get some good play out of these ancient puppies. And they’ve got my signature on them besides. What more d’ya want? That “Wheats” script is worth a couple a thousand bucks right there and several of em have a few notches indicating goals and noting that they’re some good wood. Ehh? You guys are just really pissing me off with this lack of interest.


So today I’m reading Tim Wendel’s Sports Collectable article from today’s paper in the USA WEEKEND magazine insert and there are a couple of high priced hockey items listed.

The most valuable item is worth $400,000. Its one of the original Montreal AAA club’s sweaters from 1893. If your sweetheart can find one of these in her hope chest handed down from her great-great granny or if you’ve been using it as a car rag - big mistake. Ehh? Cash it in now before the moths get it. The Hockey Hall of Fame, where Cheever’s gear resides, is looking for one or two of these jerseys. Rumor has it that there were only nine players on the team that won the first Stanley Cup. Chances are that you don’t have one of these, but check your gear bag and if ya got a sweater that smells real, real bad ya better give it a good look-see.

The item of lesser value that was mentioned in Wendel’s article was a three wheeled Zamboni that was used to clean the ice at the 1960’s Olympics. They don’t know where this contraption ended up. The article says that it would be worth about $175,000 but I don’t know who’d cough up that kinda cash for a dilapidated piece of shite. Crap it was missing a wheel back then. Bet they had to add some ballast to the opposite side so it could take a fairly even cut. What were those guys thinking at Zamboni? Here they are having a chance to use their machine for the first time during the Winter Olympics and they send a defective unit. Shit for brains - I hope they fired the marketing guy behind that plan.

I’ve skated a few times at the rink down in Paramount, California that the Zamboni’s owned. It’s been ages since I was there so I can’t remember if they just had pictures or the real things, but I recall how much the early units looked like farm equipment. Maybe they converted this one into a combine, blew it up, or salvaged it for fixing other units. Who knows, ehh?

So that’s a hint to you ‘mers out there. Take a look out behind the barn or one of the corn silos, heck check your neighbor’s property (more then likely they don’t live on it anyway) and see if ya see some really strange piece of equipment that’s missing a wheel. If ya see something that’s got some hen scratches on it that look like names then ya might have something. A really stupid rumor is that the entire USA Gold Medal Team etched their names on this Zam. Stupid, ehh? Story goes that they used their skate blades. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Well if that’s the case then I can see that it might be worth the bucks that I mentioned earlier.

I’ve got an idea for a new ice cleaning machine that I’d call the Zamboomba. “Zam” of course because I’d get Zamboni to manufacture it and to market it with their current fabulous network. The first one could end up being pretty valuable so after it gets used a few times I’d snag it back and store in my garage to sell later and use to pay for my grandkids’ college.

Got your interest in this, ehh? Want to invest? Need some more information to convince you? Are you questioning Jasper Wheats’ ingenuity?

The wifey got a chance to hear this when I was proofing it and she says to me at this point, “Jasper, these guys that read this probably don’t think you got it in ya for grandkids.” Well, EAT SHIT AND DIE – JASPER WHEATS IS WALKING WITH WOOD!!!!!

First of all the Zamboomba would be computerized. It would be set up to operate like them damn sneaky little vacuum cleaners that cleanup by themselves. The commercial version would contain a big old rechargeable battery that would run the motor for the scrapper blade and a heater to melt the snow for rewetting the ice.

Yup, your thinking, “How’s this little piece a shit going to clean the ice between periods?” Ehh?

Well, you’d use about a hundred of them at one time. All scurrying around on the ice, just tidying up the place. They’d all be preprogrammed to hit every spot but they’d also be programmed to add some damn good entertainment.

When they first come out on the ice they’d be programmed to act like they didn’t know what the heck they were doing. They’d be scurrying around and running into each other, smacking the boards, flipping over, etc. Kinda like robo wars on late night cable. Then they’d get their act together and get the job done. Of course a couple of times in the middle of this ice resurfacing they’d take off into wee bit a synchronized shit and makes patterns and spell things out like some hot for shit marching band with each unit programmed for sound to be a specific musical instrument. Lights and all, too, for a damn fancy lightshow.

Yup, the commercial version of the Zamboomba will be walking with wood.

So now you’re wondering what the standard retail unit is like.

Well, it would be a bit bigger and wouldn’t have all the bells and whistles. It would have a solar cell array on its back to keep the battery charged up. You could use it for your backyard rink or the cleared area out on the pond. Just set that baby loose when ya leave for school or work in the morning and when ya come home later ya got a damn nice patch of ice. No more gettin the shovels and hoses out to get yourself and your buddies some good ice.

Jasper here with his Zamboomba - just trying to make your ice time just a little bit better.

Skate hard! Keep walking with wood!