Sometimes there are things that happen that inspire one to write. Whether it is simply to communicate, to spread good news or to talk about a special event. Sometimes it's just to tell a story to entertain, one that can either make us laugh or cry ... Or both.

Last Saturday we experienced the full range of emotions, starting with an afternoon of good hockey culminating with the game that would decide who would be crowned the regular season champions between the Avengers and the Rhinos. And they gave us a great show. But to make things different this year, the President had decided to celebrate and present the Tremblay trophy to the winners that same evening at McCarold’s Pub.

The idea was a good one, so we left with the Trophy in its case on a hand truck borrowed from the College and the precious keg of beer that the guys took turns carrying on their shoulder. The walk is quite short but for having carried the Trophy in this way on a few occasions, one can’t help but notice that the people we meet often seem to ask themselves, “What the hell is that thing?" For me, it looks like a radioactive material storage container or something of that nature ...

But on arriving there with the first batch of boys, the situation I was dreading was really happening : it’s the St. Patrick's party weekend and the place is completely full... The members of our delegation of joyful lads come back out after scouting the joint a little disheartened… «Heille, y a tu réservé ou quoi ?…Ça doit être en haut , y a du monde !!! »… not wanting to disappoint them, (although they didn't wait until I told them to forget about it) I watch them enter the stairs to the lounge with the subtlety known of a bunch of hockey players who are thirsty as fuck. They are welcomed by a guy in a suit who summons them to be silent because there is a funeral or a baptism going on and there is a child who is singing a song for a solemn looking crowd. Faced with the «boisterousness» of the bunch, the poor man had no choice but to tell them : «Vos yeules !!!» Understanding without doubt that it was the only language that the troop could understand. So here they were right back on the sidewalk, still as thirsty and a little more disappointed ...

As I called to the President on my phone, "the picnic table" of the middle section was freed and we stormed the premises in the blink of an eye with the trophy case, thinking that the surrounding tables would be vacated as soon as their unfortunate occupants realized that it was in their best interestto leave. As a sign of respect for the establishment but mostly for the beer to stay as cold as possible, I tell the boys to leave the barrel of beer in the snow on the edge of the door, and I leave the hand truck outside as well. We will deal with this when the big boss gets here, in case the staff was not warned that we were to bring our own barrel of brew in the pub…

Anyway, I and Jacob are left standing up for lack of space and we switch between the inside and outside, waiting for the rest of the boys and the Grand Poobah and also to keep an eye on the barrel ... After talking for a little while with the guys inside, no more than 2-3 minutes, I decide to go and have a look at ... the barrel is no longer there ... Tabarnak !!!

At the same time Pat Meilleur was arriving and noticing my disarray asks me: "What's wrong Uncle Larry ??" ... Somebody took the fucken Keg Man!

And he answered "We just saw some people with a keg ..."

Not having settled down, I still had my coat on and without waiting for the end of his sentence I started walking with a quick step, my eyes as big grapefruit so to spot the fuckers who left with Our barrel ... Jacob comes out at the same time and asks me "What's going on?" …Someone stole the keg ostie !!!

He got his coat and joined me in pursuit of the robbers.

We go up the street to the west, one on each side, eyeing every corner or passage that could hide the despicable vermin, a few cars pass by going up the street ... What if they were in one of these ... I can't stop the cars and search them !!! I put my hopes on the fact that these assholes were on foot and that we would catch up with them, because you can’t run with a barrel of beer, unless they are a bunch of young dudes in fucken good shape and they take turns to carry it.

It dawned on me that I should have asked Pat for a description but I did not take the time. Anyways if I was in their place I would move my ass because they have no idea what they bargained for..

But after some time, I can’t say how long but it seems fucken long, as if in slow motion, I start to be a little depressed, thinking I was a total jerk to have left the barrel outside, but also I begin to wonder How much it is the fucken thing worth ?… Probably more than the beer that is inside it ... Maybe even a couple hundred bucks, TABARNAK !! And how am I going to face the boys and look myself in the mirror with that on the conscience ?? What an idiot !! To top it off, there are all kinds of trucks and people on the street and I can see fuck-all in the distance. I’m really beginning to lose hope then we get to the first corner ...

As I look left, I see a couple walking in the middle the street in the distance, around 300 yards away, they are almost turning the corner behind the Arena where the football field begins ... A woman with a old guy who seems to have a hard time walking with a cane that shines in the street lights. At least that's what I see ... Jacob who has not seen anything on his side looks on mine and cries "Heille c'est le Baril !!"

As if it were the gunshot that signals the start of 100 meter race, we take off like two cheetahs on the hunt. Jake remains in the street as I take the sidewalk in case they try to flee on the other side. I jump the snowbank to avoid a woman walking with her grocery bags, she watches me pass by wondering what the fuck is going on ... As much as the seconds before the start of the race were in slo-mo, as much as the seconds that follow go by in a flash ... I wish someone could of timed it because Big Jake was moving fast with great strides like Hussein Bolt with me on his heels contemplating the whole scene with a great big smile now on my face !!

To top it off, I realized that they were only two, a man and a woman and that what I had taken for his cane was the barrel that the poor idiot had a hard time to carry... The asshole had his back to us and did not see us coming. But when his girl saw us, her body language showed her desperation as she told her Romeo they were in deep shit, the guy turning around at the same time as Jacob came up to himyelling: "Heille c'ta nous c’te baril là !!!…And the asshole answered :" « Ben là, y trainait dehors»… moving away from the goods, without any resistance ...

To tell the truth, I did not even look at the two dum fucks, I only had eyes for the keg which I grabbed and turned around immediately to return to the Pub at once ... Thinking to myself : A va être bonne en sacrament !!

Some will be surprised that we did not give him the ass whooping of his life, but I felt so guilty to have left the barrel at the mercy of these two rats, that I now considered myself the luckiest guy in the world … I was also very lucky the guy was not bright enough to have stolen the hand truck as well because we probably never would have caught up with them… I think the poor guy had to consider he was as lucky not to get beaten to a pulp as it would have been so easy for us to do so...

Barely 10 seconds after, my phone rang…

It was obviously the President who, alerted by the boys at the Pub, and in an obvious state of unbelievable disbelief, called to me to inquire ... «On les a r’pognés les Tabarnak !» I answered with out waiting for the question ... And he asks me: Who was it ?? ... Bahh! a little old man and a woman …Was my answer ... Finally I learned later that it was a couple in their thirties according to Jacob, if I'm not mistaken ... I told you I did not even look at them ... Maybe because I did not want them to see the face of the jerk who had left a barrel of beer in a snow bank !!!

In any case, even though the barrel had been a little shaken and there was a lot of foam at first, I can assure you that the “magic" of the Tremblay trophy, (the only trophy that can be drunk and shared in the world! !!), has never been more appreciated !!!

All is well that finishes well… Just goes to show that one must never give up or loose hope, a lesson to remember as we begin the playoffs !!!

Larry