Dutch Schnell: Egg In His Face
Dutch Schnell, goalie-racer here, and as you can tell by analyzing the picture to the left, I am utterly perplexed on this frigid Friday.
The reasons are many State of Hockey legion, the reasons…are…many. I won’t list them all, because, quite frankly, you have been slacking so much at work/school that even as you read this, I fully aware that you’ve got your mouse placed directly over the “minimize” button in case your boss or teacher sneaks up behind you.
Allow me to explain my rationale.
When you mix together a third cup of a three game losing streak, a quarter cup of injuries to the four of our top players, and toss in another quarter cup of the drivers side door of my lime green hatchback frozen shut on consecutive days (does that add up to a cup?), well you get a little perturbed.
To make matters worse, I am convinced that the reason for the Wild’s recent (and soon-to-end) mini slump is due solely to the fact that I have been banned from telling the State of Hockey legion exactly how and why, the Wild will win on any given night.
The genesis for today’s bewilderment can be summed up in two words: Egg Olson.
|Do NOT let this goalie-racer in your house.|
But if I had a dime for every time someone approached me and said, “Dutch, you are undoubtedly the greatest goalie-racer in the history of the world, and I plan on naming my first three children after you, but why such hard feelings towards Egg Olson?” I would be able to buy a really nice food dehydrator.
For some reason, people want to know if Egg is really such a bad guy.
In one word: yes.
But I am nothing if not a passionate linguist, so you aren’t going to escape this column with just an affirmative answer. I am going to club you over the head with reasons to uninvite him to any of your upcoming weddings, receptions or Sweet 16 birthday parties on MTV.
|Is there anyone who doesn’t like Tom Hanks? Just one...Egg Olson.|
I can easily overlook his penchant for jaywalking, driving 30 miles an hour in the far left lane and shouting “WHO’S THE MAAAAANNNNN?!?!” every time he finishes 10 repetitions on the bench press at Lifetime Fitness.
His chronic head lice problem? It doesn’t really bother me.
His dreadlocked back hair? Hey, we all have our quirks.
I could go on and on, but like I said, you really should be working right now.
Just read what I’m about to write, chew on it for a bit, and tell your family and friends what I said: Egg Olson is a disgrace to goalie-racing.
No one ever said that goalie-racing is a clean sport. No one ever claimed it was pretty.
But there is an art to my sport, there is a history that needs to be recognized and there are legends of the races that need to be respected.
Olson doesn’t even know how to spell “respect.” He’s one of these hot head youngsters more worried about the fame and the money than anything else.
Between the boards, he’s the Pablo Picasso of cheap shots. A butt end here, a thrown skate at my face
|This photo was taken milliseconds after Egg dropped Dutch with a goalie stick to the back of the head.|
And what bothers me is, I don’t know where else to turn. The Goalie-racing union is knee deep in drafting a new Collective Bargaining Agreement.
The International Goalie Racing Federation turns a blind eye, saying that Egg’s antics have sent our sport’s television ratings to an all-time high. Congress is too busy busting roided up baseball thugs.
Will this insanity ever end? Or are my future kids going to have to be nurtured in a world where goalie-racers who routinely put mouse traps in my skates and barbed wire in their blockers are accepted?
I bequeath you State of Hockey legion, don’t let Egg win. And DO NOT let him into your lives. It’s too late for me, save yourselves.
I pledge to you that next week’s diatribe will be solely Wild focused. I just had to get these thoughts off my chest protector.
I am Dutch Schnell, and I…am a goalie-racer.