Fish Report, 1995 February 15

It's been pointed out that our sports coverage here on the Mister Squishy show is a bit one-sided. We flout journalistic standards by devoting all our attention to College Hockey. Perhaps there's something to this. Here we have Sunday's Los Angeles Times--a fine publication--let's see what they have to say about College Hockey [leaf, leaf] Hmm, only a few inches of one column on page C12 devoted to Friday's scores and no report on Saturday's. Clearly, college hockey isn't as important a priority as, oh [leaf, leaf] the Fish Report. Here we are, nearly half a column. What do you think, Doghouse Riley?

[Some observation on the number of sculpin caught in Seal Beach.]

Well, I guess it's settled. We need to diversify. The listeners want fish, and by Jove let's give them fish. And now the Mister Squishy fish report.

[Cue "Love Story"]

Fish feature prominently in the treatment of Harvard's hockey team by the Lynah Faithful of Cornell. While most visiting teams are merely pelted with crumpled up newspapers (the ones read by fans while the visitors' lineup is announced), the Crimson, in honor of their marine lab, are showered with dead fish when they first skate onto the ice to the strains of the "Love Story" theme. ("Love Story" is, of course, the glorious tale of whiny Harvard hockey player Oliver Barret's humiliation at the hands of Cornell, who defeat his team to win the Ivy League championship while his father is watching. Oh, yeah, and his chick gets some disease or something.)

Anyway, returning to the fish, throwing deceased vertebrates at the opposition is something hockey officials frown upon as a rule, and it's at about this point that the PA announcer is asked to read a warning that any more objects thrown on the ice will result in a two-minute bench minor against the home team.

Now, the Gods of Cornell Tradition are satisfied by one round of fish-tossing, but what invariably happens is that some idiot who forgot to throw his fish the first time Harvard entered the rink decides to heave it at them when they come on for the second period. Cornell is then called for delay of game and left a man short for the first two minutes of the second. It happened at the game I went to in November 1993, and it happened this Friday night. Unfortunately, this time the Crimson converted the power play to take a one-nothing lead and went on to win the game by a score of 2-1. Cornell's chance at a first regular-season victory over the Crimson in ten years was down the drain.

So I make this impassioned plea to any Cornell hockey fans who may be listening: When Harvard comes to town, THROW YOUR FISH AT THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME. If you don't get a chance, please don't throw it at the end of an intermission. Take it home and make Trout Almondine.

This is Joe P------k, KJUC sports.

Last Modified: 1995 September 26
Joe Schlobotnik /