| 16 June 2010
The NHL's postseason awards are almost here. MYFO is using this opportunity to both handicap the Lady Byng finalists and to force a little culture into your lives. You're welcome, I'm sure.
Good afternoon. I am the rotting corpse of Lady Byng. Many decades ago, I held a sort of personal contest to see who could provide me with the greatest number of orgasms in a two-hour period, with a prize of a very classy silver trophy cup to be awarded to the winner. I invited a priest, a poet, an athlete, and a banker. The action took place over the course of a long weekend in Banff. It was a close, exhausting, and extremely satisfying contest. The winner, as you know, was an athlete--a hockey player by the name of Big Jacques Lalumondier, who had the stamina, as well as the anatomy, of a draft horse.
My dear Jacques, ever a humble man, wished that the trophy be given instead to his sport association, to be used as some sort of annual prize. I agreed, on the condition that I personally judge the winner, based on the same criteria I had used to judge him. Due to the times, of course, we had to use euphemisms, and "gentlemanly play" was the phrase we ultimately settled on. The fact of my demise has not changed the criteria.
This year's candidates, and my reviews:
Pavel Datsyuk, Detroit Red Wings: And this time the sharp ecstasy of her own passion did not overcome her; she lay with hands inert on his striving body, and do what she might, her spirit seemed to look on from the top of her head, and the butting of his haunches seemed ridiculous to her, and the sort of anxiety of his penis to come to its little evacuating crisis seemed farcical. Yes, this was love, this ridiculous bouncing of the buttocks, and the wilting of the poor insignificant, moist little penis.
Brad Richards, Dallas Stars: She stared at him, dazed and transfixed, and he went over and kneeled beside her, and took her two feet close in his two hands, and buried his face in her lap, remaining motionless. She was perfectly dim and dazed, looking down in a sort of amazement at the rather tender nape of his neck, feeling his face pressing her thighs. In all her burning dismay, she could not help putting her hand, with tenderness and compassion, on the defenceless nape of his neck, and he trembled, with a deep shudder. Then he looked up at her with that awful appeal in his full, glowing eyes. She was utterly incapable of resisting it. From her breast flowed the answering, immense yearning over him; she must give him anything, anything. He was a curious and very gentle lover, very gentle with the woman, trembling uncontrollably, and yet at the same time detached, aware, aware of every sound outside. To her it meant nothing except that she gave herself to him. And at length he ceased to quiver any more, and lay quite still, quite still. Then, with dim, compassionate fingers, she stroked his head, that lay on her breast.
Martin St. Louis, Tampa Bay Lightning: He was the trembling excited sort of lover, whose crisis soon came, and was finished. There was something curiously childlike and defenceless about his naked body: as children are naked. His defences were all in his wits and cunning, his very instincts of cunning, and when these were in abeyance he seemed doubly naked and like a child, of unfinished, tender flesh, and somehow struggling helplessly. He roused in the woman a wild sort of compassion and yearning, and a wild, craving physical desire. The physical desire he did not satisfy in her; he was always come and finished so quickly, then shrinking down on her breast, and recovering somewhat his effrontery while she lay dazed, disappointed, lost. But then she soon learnt to hold him, to keep him there inside her when his crisis was over. And there he was generous and curiously potent; he stayed firm inside her, giving to her, while she was active. . .wildly, passionately active, coming to her own crisis. And as he felt the frenzy of her achieving her own orgasmic satisfaction from his hard, erect passivity, he had a curious sense of pride and satisfaction.
Well, there you have it! Gentlemanly play, indeed! See you at the awards show.
