By Dana K. of the Butchers

Originally the Mighty Squirrels, the most fun team for refs to call for “too many men” when an actual squirrel ran on the courts at Corlears Park, the team split into The Butchers and Poutine Machine in 2010.

Rachel G.  
Rachel Greene, while not technically the captain of the Butchers this year, “I’m just a player these days, I swear,” Greene protested from behind her marble desk at Butchers H.Q. in Clinton Hill, is still thought of by her team as their Don Corleone. As the head of the family she takes it hard when members leave. This year when Jeff Laniado defected Greene happened upon his new team jersey and it used in a series of photographs later that night, the least offensive of which featured Rachel pooping it into a toilet. “He’s just lucky I didn’t have my Beadazzler on me,” said Greene. “I would have tricked that thing out like a My Little Pony complete with the comb.”

Her signature move: the double leg jump in mid-air after scoring a goal.  

Michael M. 
One of the most underrated defensemen in the league, Mike is the Butchers secret weapon. Calm, with a killer shot from the point Mike used to refuse to take the ball away from female opponents “my mama raised me right,” he used to say before Greene hosted an intervention with him at her compound in Bogota. “He doesn’t do that anymore,” Greene stated in a propaganda video released to the media. “Yeah, I don’t do that anymore,” Mike said beside her. “Can I see my wife now?” When accused of badly treating the visibly thin and pale Mike while he was in her care Greene said, “he always looks like that.”

Don’t let his nice guy demeanor on the court fool you though, off court Mike is a ruthless lawyer at Etsy where he is singlehandedly trying to take the company in a new direction. “All I’m saying is, less decoupage, more weapons of mass destruction. But definitely keep the chicken sweaters. Give the people what they want!”

Arthur R.  
Originally brought on to bring some true Russian hockey know-how to the Butchers, Arthur found it a daunting task to pass on his wisdom. “We tried holding a practice once and Dana and Rachel kept telling each other how good each other’s hair looked,” Arthur said, patting his own head. “It was really distracting. Then Georgine asked where the mimosas were.  She thought we were at brunch.”  Reduced to pointing towards the other team’s net and screaming “that way!” Arthur has learned to content himself with the small victories. “Mike ordered a vodka soda at the bar the other day,” he said with a smile and a nod.  “I feel pretty good about that.”

Jason R.  
Rosie, as he is known, is the spirit animal of the Butchers. And that animal is a golden retriever sporting a baja on those chilly BTSH spring days.  When told the baja made him look like a suburban drug dealer from Albequerque he said, “Whatever man, make fun of the baja all you want, but I rescued a family of baby penguins with this thing when I was living on a glacier in Greenland for three months and it was adorable.”

His delight in wearing Mexican blankets aside, Rosenstock is a genius on offense, “Even I don’t know what I’m going to do out there,” Rosie says when questioned about his hockey strategy.  “That last move you saw where I did a backflip off my hoverboard and landed in a waterfall? I call that ‘Navajo sunrise. At daybreak.’” Arthur smiled at his teammate, took a sip from his flask and said, “Everyone makes the playoffs.”

Honorable mention: Georgine P., for making statements like, “Who caaares?” at Captains’ meetings while still being the friendliest person in the room. Gary K., the scariest looking nicest guy ever. And a damn good hockey player. Tim B., who rivals Jamie for smiliest goalie, no matter what he’s up against.