Stegman’s Old Boys finished their inaugural MASL campaign last night with a win over V-Hawks at McMurray.
The match was a dead rubber, with neither Stegman’s nor V-Hawks able to move from their places in the table no matter what the result. Despite it not having an impact on the standings, Dave Tesch, Trevor Stemm and Andy Delain turned up to support the team.
Beyond the impressive contribution of those three from the sidelines, this game was all about Dan Hoedeman.
Often given short shrift in the match recaps because of modesty, Hoedeman rises to the fore in this recap because there is no other way to call the game. Never before in the field of play has one man done so much for his cause – and for humanity.
The game was brilliant and breathtaking. It was dramatic and devastating. At times the tension was like torture, but in the end the triumph was memorable. For this was the night that Stegman’s Old Boys, driven by the handsome and accomplished Dan Hoedeman, won a whirlwind game for the ages.
This was a match of such spectacular action that it will live in the memory of everyone who witnessed it.
Down by two goals within ten minutes because of Dan Hedstrom’s strange proclivity for own goals, they conjured a fight-back of epic proportions. A stunning hat trick from Hoedeman, one each from his head, right foot and left foot, finished the V-Hawks in style.
But, Hoedeman’s contribution began before the first whistle.A booking error at the field let to a confrontation between a large group of meat headed lacrosse douchebags and stylish, chiseled soccer players. The confrontation escalated quickly – eyewitnesses reported Brick Tamland walking around with a trident – but then Hoedeman entered the fray. Using what can old be described as a Jedi mind trick, Hoedeman ended the altercation in favor of the soccer teams, reminded the meathead lacrosse douchebags to all call their mothers and convinced half of them not to get the “Come at me, bro” tattoos that they were thinking about getting. He also stopped the rise of the oceans and began to heal the earth.
The match action was no less interesting.
After going down by two goals, the revival began with Brandon Overlie.
After Hedstrom went “chubby chasing” in the penalty box and felled a large player in what appeared to be a white dress, the referee pointed to the spot. The penalty was a Panenka-style chip but Overlie, wise to it, responded with his own bit of impudence, saving the shot with a Scorpion kick.
Overlie’s save rebounded to Hoedeman. The Dutchman, tireless and terrier-like as he usually is, oozed a spirit of defiance and took the ball on a mazy run through the entire V-Hawks team and one or two Dementors all the way to the opposition penalty box. One-on-one with the keeper, he showed an incredible bit of skill to flick the ball up and over the onrushing goalkeeper and then headed the ball home.
With Rob Peichel seemingly already eating popcorn at Half Time Rec, Hoedeman knew that he would get no help from anyone but himself.
So he went ahead and scored two more solo efforts. The first, a fizzing shot off of the outside of his right boot from over 30 yards that nestled into the top corner.
The second effort waited until extra time. The V-Hawks had been kept at bay, but Stegman’s were struggling to find the winner.
While it seemed like the rest of the Blues side had decided that the game was cancelled and left, Hoedeman alone played on. As the seconds ticked down, as the referee checked and re-checked his watch before blowing the final whistle, supporters held their breath to see what this talismanic figure, this man of beauty and justice, would do.
Then Hoedeman tackled an opposition player, hitting him like a bag of flour in a pillow fight, and everything seemed to stop. The clouds parted, the birds stopped singing, Derek Thomas and Nathan Toldt stopped their incessant chatter, and it seemed as though even God himself was peering down from heaven to see how this match would end.
With the ball wide on the wing, Hoedeman shifted it to his left.
The first tackle came in, and Hoedeman dodged it with a Cruyff turn.
Then he took on two defenders with a series of stepovers that made Cristiano Ronaldo look like that fat guy from the John Smith’s commercial.
He bounded into the penalty box. The referee has the whistle in his mouth, his cheeks puffed out and ready to blow for time.
And then that lovely left boot, touched by something divine and wonderful – Johan Cruyff’s dandruff, perhaps? – fired a shot so hard into the net that it blasted off the goalkeeper’s gloves, tore the net in two and may still be traveling in the air right now, circling the globe and curing the sick who look upon it.
It was a fitting end to the season.
“It was as if David Copperfield and Jesus were one person, playing soccer for the SOBs” said Jake Keeler after the game. “I have never met a better soccer player, or a more impressive man.”
“The performance was awesome, bro” commented Sean Webb.
“Lots of people give Hoedeman a hard time for these match reports” said Rob Peichel, eating popcorn in the post-game press conference, “but I admire the factual correctness and understatement of them. I also admire his pecs. That dude is cut. Don’t let that get weird – a man can admire another man’s handsomeness.”
“Handball ref!” yelled Tommy McCarthy.
“I’m not sure I remember it happening that way” said Brandon Overlie “but this story is better than the field being double-booked, V-Hawks forfeiting, us going to the bar and making fun of Hoedeman’s match recaps.”