Crow Boy: Blood, sweat and tears, it’s the staple diet of Trevor “The Axe” Gillmeister. But our local sporting arenas are the embryos for the stars who grace our televisions. It’s where pints of claret are spilt to reveal whether pain is truly temporary, and glory is forever. And my robust pal, we have stumbled on a goldmine of local sporting entertainment.

Nugget: Champ, I think to describe the barrel of monkeys that was our Saturday afternoon as simply a goldmine is vastly underselling the work of the Caloundra Seahawks ladies division one hockey team. Underselling it so far it’s like saying Casey Donovan is just a bit plump.

CB: I’ve always just thought she was big-boned. But the Seahawks and women’s hockey, it’s an untapped entertainment Mecca. Beer, more lycra than a callisthenics convention, a canteen with motivated volunteers and chicks delivering more hits than Ike and Tina. Ticks all the boxes for my liking.

N: Being new to hockey, I arrived to see the field, with ladies on it, being doused by a water cannon that would have pride of place amongst Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction and with the combo of ladies, lycra and high powered H2O, I thought I had stumbled onto the set of a Duran Duran film clip.

CB: I wondered why you pulled out the bandana, leg-warmers and began doing starjumps. But really, it’s amazing how this game has so many tasty ingredients. Even Calista Flockhart would get hungry for more on the sidelines.

N: While it was a delicious spectacle filled with all the rich flavours one would expect from local sport – parents enjoying their 11th hockey club rumbo of the arvo, children hitting balls at random pedestrians – but I can’t help but feel even local women’s hockey could benefit from a sexy marketing makeover, not seen since the world was tricked into thinking Kerri-Anne Kennerley was a woman.

CB: You present a compelling case. I couldn’t help but think that, with a few tweaks, this gala sporting event could deliver more fun and success than the K Fed personalised fertilisation clinic. For starters, the sideline water cannons used to wet the turf could be held by lucky ticket holders who can wipe out the players.

N: And tell me the action would not be hotter than Ian Hewitson’s undies if the goalies had a little of the padding stripped away. Currently they are wearing a single bed mattress on each arm and what can only be described as a high jump mat anchored to the midsection. I say place the custodians in nothing more than a Jackie Howe singlet and a “Chefs do it in the kitchen” apron and watch the claret fly. Let’s be honest, they are only goalies because they are misunderstood, anti-social misfits anyway.

CB: I bet the first thing David Hicks does when released from Yatala Prison is pull on the goalie gear. The whistleblowers also need to grow some thicker skin. A few verbals from the crowd should be encouraged, and two learned gentlemen on the fence who pointed out “it’s not Mardi Gras” had a valid point.

N: The concern for officials need not be the flow of play but the uniforms of choice. After half a XXXX Gold when I got a bit mouthy, it felt very strange venting my displeasure at a particular call with a well placed “You are kidding yourself, you fluorescent orange maggot”.

CB: Another pitfall for rookies is the absence of “hockey one, hockey two, hockey three”. This tried and tested technique is seldom used these days, and I say to the detriment of the game. It’s like Benny Cousins with a clear head or Craig Gower in pants – it is somewhat unnatural.

N: The biggest gap in the ladies hockey landscape is undoubtedly the absence of a take-no-prisoners mascot. Don’t tell me that the Buderim Hockey Centre would be as full as Sam Newman at the Logies with the cartoonish caperings of a homemade Seahawks mascot, crudely constructed from old egg cartons, mattress foam and the seat covers from a pre-owned Datsun 120Y. Look out scalpers!

CB: That would be worth the price of admission alone… if they charged. The mascot Seahawk driving into the ground in the same Daddo, complete with airhorns blaring is sure to attract more fans than a Paris Hilton slide night.

N: If not as many from Queensland Health at least. The key to the Seahawk mascot being all it can be, however, is if the other teams get involved. Picture a cool Saturday afternoon, the Seahawks are taking on the determined ladies of Matthew Flinders College and the spectators’ attention is captured by the sight of the Caloundra Seahawks mascot, or Barry as he is called on his promotional T-shirts, punching the crap out of a seven-foot tall rubber Anglican. Bravo Barry… Bravo.

CB: Would that equate to Bible bashing?