Word: hounds
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Shero's critics charge that he sends his men onto the ice looking for a fight. Opponents point to the presence of three "enforcers" in the Flyer lineup-Defense Man Andre ("Moose") Dupont and Wings Bob ("the Hound") Kelly and Dave ("the Hammer") Shultz. That trio seem to swing more at opponents than at the puck. Shultz set a league record of his own last season by occupying the penalty box for 348 minutes, the equivalent of almost six full games. (This year may be worse. He already has accumulated more than 200 penalty minutes...
...Real Inspector Hound is by Tom Stoppard, who wrote Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Paul K. Rowe '76, who usually writes this listing, saw it in London and wrote an article about how much he liked it, and no doubt if he hadn't absconded at the last possible moment and left me to fill his place you'd be reading enlightening details that radically increased your knowledge of British theater. But he did, so you won't Read the Scrutiny article instead, or check the Attica movie at the Orson Welles...
...like a figure out of myth; the grandmother opening herself up to nature at last, as she bends down with the eye of benevolent intelligence to watch a cricket on a leaf at sunset; the innate elegance and courage of Albert Horn; the noble face of the aristocrat's hound; and the images of the countryside itself, unearthly grey before a thunderstorm, intensely green beneath the rain...
...most remarkable scene in The Seven-Per-Cent Solution reunites Holmes with the fine nose of the hound Toby, but the scent they are following is not the foul musk of creosote, that criminal excrescence from The Sign of the Four, but the rather innocuous odor of a man who is steeped to the ankles in vanilla extract. This may be a fine touch for the Sherlockian satirist--and there have been plenty of them--but it hardly befits the genius of Watson. Because of preposterous insertions, like this pun: "You've a real gift for telling a tale, Watson...
...beginning in an immediately interesting and inherently funny way--taking Rosencrantz and Guildenstern out of their Hamlet context and making an existential comedy out of their dislocation; writing the ultimate parody of a murder mystery play and having his onstage critics sucked into the action in The Real Inspector Hound; creating a Professor of Moral Philosophy who tries to disprove Zeno's paradoxes of motion with a real hare and a real tortoise in Jumpers. Up till now, formulas like these have served Stoppard well--his plays have uniformly been among the most intelligent, enjoyable and effective theater...