Hey ya’ll…I have to tell ya… When Cuzin’ Rawhide aksed me to be guest-bloggin’ this week while he wuz down in Florida…I ‘bout plum came outa my huntin’ boots. I haven’t had nuthin’ like this happen to me since I won the squirrel skinnin’ contest of aut-3 at the County Fair. High honor, that’s for sure. Now, I live out in Alabamastan, (ain’t gonna tell you exactly where ‘cuz I know how this kinda fame and fortune can attract certain people and I don’t want any “groupies” showin’ up on my front porch…I DON’T NEED IT)…but I promised him I would look at that Thrashers game on the big satellite dish out on the front porch and be able to deliver a well thought out write-up about what I seen.

Now, lessen you think I’m all nervous ‘bout communicatin’ to an audience that must number in the dozens, I do have experience writin’ for the Alabamastan Monthly Inquirer in my column, “Possums: Hunting and Recipes” as seen on page 5 of that fine paper. I took it over last year from my brother, Randall, after he had an unfortunate accident when he relieved himself on farmer Jenkins’ ‘lectric fence. Darn near took two hours of shoveling dirt on him to stop the smolderin’. Needless to say, he just ain’t been right since.

Anyway, about that game up in Carolina …Whoo-Doggie! I gotta tell you, I ain’t seen so many grown men bumpin’ into each other since Grandma Martha fired up her white-lightnin’ still and we all had us a swig. My girlfriend, Loretta-Lynn Carter, was over watchin’ with me and aksed me what those five big circles was all about out there on the ice. Golly, she can be so silly! I said to her “Loretta-Lynn, them there are targets showing where they can drill holes for ice-fishin’ after the game”. She really is a great gal….she’s typin’ this here up fer me ‘cuz she’s a much better typer then me seeing as though she wuz born with 11 fingers and all.

As for what I thunk about the game? Well, let’s start with that Ily-er Kov-AL-Chook. Man, he danced through them red-shirted Carolina fellas like Clem McMichael did when he won last years square-dancing contest. And that Slav-er Kosmonaut dude scored a right pretty goal a-spinnin’ around an whippin’ that puck into the goal, like that. I like the way that Mark Recchi jammed his goal past the goldie like the way Aunt Eunice takes a broom to the cats when she wants ‘em outa the kitchen and all. That Bobby Holik guy scored fer the third game in a row, too. But the hero was that Maryann Hosser with the one goal in over time!!! Man, that was as thrillin’ as the time I got one of my Cameros in the front yard to actually start up.

But, the one thing I did take some exception to was when those announcer guys had said that our goldie, Jo-Ann Headburger, had been a “quality number two”. Well, I don’t reckon I know all that much about this ice hockey deal, but I don’t think ‘ol Jo-Ann would cotton well to being referred to the thing like what’s on one of those Islander jerseys!

Hey, I got a question for ya’ll out there, though. I ain’t that good in math and all, but if the other team takes about three times more shots at the goal the do you, ain’t you just aksing to get yer butt whooped? Maybe, I’m thinking, them Thrashers just snuck outa Carolina countin’ there blessin’s

Anyway, I hear them boys are gonna met up again Friday night at Atlanta’s barn to do this all over again. Maybe me and Loretta-Lynn can hop into the pick-up and come on down to the big city and see one of these ice-hockey games with our own eye-balls.

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