The Sports Daily > Barry Melrose Rocks
A Very Staaly Wedding.

Scene: Somewhere in Ontario, JORDAN STAAL is getting married.

Marc Staal's wedding
(This is actually of Marc Staal’s wedding, but it;s a nice picture that I took from What’s up, ya Sieve) 

JORDAN: Man, I’m so nervous…I don’t know if I should go through with this.

ERIC: Jordan, don’t be a frickin’ puss. There’s a million reasons you wanted to get hitched to this girl, right?

JORDAN: Yeah, but I’m all worried. I feel like I’m gonna barf all over the place or pass out or something. I’m all shaky and stuff. This must be how Chihuahuas feel all the time.

JARED:  Good thing I got crackers! See, that’s why I’m the best man.

MARC:  How are you the best man? You’re barely a hockey player.

JORDAN: Guys, I explained this like a thousand times. I didn’t want to choose between you guys, so I figured the only fair way was with the mud wrestling match, and Jared won, fair and square.

ERIC: He did not! I only slipped because the sun was in my eyes.

MARC: We did it at night, Eric. There was no sun. But you’re right—Jared played real frickin’ dirty and I want a rematch.

JARED: I played to win, bitches. Sorry I’m not sorry. Sucks to suck.

JORDAN: Jared, could you get me some water, please?

JARED: Sure thing! (leaves)

ERIC: Jordan, if you didn’t want to choose between us, why didn’t you choose someone else to be your best man? Like, a teammate or whatever?

JORDAN: (thinks for a bit) Nah, I couldn’t make Sidney and Marc-Andre fight each other. Besides, I know if I asked him to be here, Max Talbot would give all of the bridesmaids herpes.

(JARED returns) JARED: Here’s some water, Jordan.

JORDAN: Thanks, dude. (SIDNEY CROSBY enters) SIDNEY!


ERIC: Watch your head!

CROSBY: Ha, ha! That’s funny because of my difficulties with concussions.

JORDAN: How was the trip?

CROSBY: It was fine. Sorry I’m late. It’s surprisingly easy to get lost around here. There’s nothing for a landmark for miles.

MARC: Why do you think we all got so good at hockey?  There has to be some way to get out of here.

CROSBY: I was just wondering why a family who’s so dedicated to hockey would have a wedding on draft weekend.

JORDAN: For the last time: Heather and I really wanted this place, and this was the only weekend that wasn’t during the season that was open. SO THERE.

ERIC: (makes whip cracking noise)

JORDAN: Shut up, wangnose.

MARC: It looks like people are all gathering and stuff. Should we head out?

JARED: You good to go, big boy?

JORDAN: Yeah…I think we’re ok. I have some crackers and water, I took a bit of a breather, my bros are by me. LET’S DO THIS SHIT! (They storm into place at the altar.)

(at the actual ceremony. JORDAN’s fiancée, HEATHER, is walking down the aisle.)

JORDAN: Holy shit, she’s damn beautiful.

JARED: Yes, she is. And I’m here being your best man because I am awesome.

MARC: I hate how weddings make me cry…I mean, uh, stupid allergies. All of these stupid flowers everywhere with their pollen and prettiness.

ERIC: Does anyone else have a really itchy butt?

CROSBY: Why would you say that in public?

ERIC: Holy shit, my butthole itches so much. All I can think about is how itchy my butthole is and how I can’t scratch it because I’m standing up here.

CROSBY: This is so inappropriate for a church.

MARC: And now my butthole’s starting to itch just from the power of suggestion.

(There are some prayers and such as ERIC’s phone buzzes. He checks it surreptitiously.)

CROSBY: You’re checking your phone? What are you doing?

MARC: What? We have to keep up with draft info and stuff.

ERIC: Dude…holy crap. Look at this: TSN says that Jordan just got traded to the Carolina Hurricanes Brandon Sutter, Brian Dumoulin and a first-round draft pick.

CROSBY: What? No way.

MARC: Way, dude.

ERIC: Holy shitsnacks! He and me are gonna wreck shit in the Southeast!

MARC: Does he know this?

CROSBY: I’m sure they would tell him but they’re leaving him alone BECAUSE IT’S HIS WEDDING.

ERIC: Do we tell him?

MARC: He should know.

CROSBY: Tell him at the reception.

MARC: But he should know!

CROSBY: AFTER the ceremony. AFTER.

JARED:  QUIET! We’re trying to have a wedding here, assmunches!


MARC: Kinda weird, though. Getting traded on your wedding day.

ERIC: I know. It’s all, like, ironical and whatever.

CROSBY: If either of you start singing Alanis Morrisette, I will punch you in the junk.

ERIC: What?

CROSBY: You have no idea how much I hate that song. It’s not ironic at all. It should be called “A list of things that suck.”

MARC: The lack of irony in a song called “Ironic” IS the irony. GOD!  Read a book, sucktard.

(The wedding concludes and the couple is happily married. The rest of the guys go to the reception.)

ERIC: Where the hell are they? Jordan needs to know.

MARC: Who tells him?

ERIC: I’m his new captain, so I guess I will. JORDAN! Get your ass over here.

JORDAN: We did it! Nobody freaked out and we got it done! I can relax a little, right?

MARC: Yeah, I just hope you enjoy never getting blowjobs ever again.


ERIC: Don’t listen to him—he’s just being an asshole. Listen, I got you the best wedding present EVER!

JORDAN: I hope this tops the Home Depot gift card, you cheap shitwrangler.

CROSBY: This is way better.

ERIC (to CROSBY): Don’t bogart my touching bro-to-bro moment, twatwaffle. (To JORDAN) TSN says you got traded…

JORDAN: Oh shit, not Edmonton.

ERIC: What?  No way. You’re going down to Raleigh with me.


ERIC: Yeah, dude, we’re gonna tear shit up! You and me!

JORDAN: I…(laughs) mother of crap! I can’t believe it!

ERIC: Who’s your best man now!

JARED: I heard that! Screw you, donkey puncher!

ERIC: Go spend some time over in Sweden because their ice is bigger and you need more conditioning, turdburgler!

CROSBY: Your family is so weird.

MARC: “Turdburgler” is weird?

ERIC: AND I got another surprise for you! (pulls out a bottle of Smirnoff Ice.)

CROSBY:…People still do icing?

MARC: Apparently.

JORDAN: Ahhh…fucksticks. I hate this game but I have to do it! (goes down on one knee) GROSS! It’s some diet mango acai bullshit!

ERIC: Welcome to the Hurricanes, bro!