Slap Shtick

Harpo, Chico and Groucho. Moe, Larry and Curly. Alvin, Simon and Theodore. On the evolutionary ladder of comic threesomes, the bottom rung has long been occupied by Jeff, Steve and Dave, the hard-checking, high-sticking Hanson brothers of the 1977 hockey film Slap Shot. Eyes obscured by taped-up glasses, fists swathed in knuckle-dusting tinfoil, these geeky goons had a motto: "Old-time hockey!"

In the two decades since the release of Slap Shot, the Hanson brothers have become cult heroes to several generations of hockey fans. When video clips of them are shown on pro scoreboards, Slap-happy spectators chant the characters' lines by heart. The object of this adulation is a trio of career bush leaguers who together played all of 85 games in the NHL . Today the Hansons—brothers Jeff and Steve Carlson and buddy Dave Hanson—work as an electrician, a truck driver and a manager of a sports complex, respectively. But they're still creating mayhem at rinks around the country.

The Hanson road show began back in the mid-1970s when Jeff, Steve and their older brother, Jack, played for the Johnstown (Pa.) Jets, then a farm team of the World Hockey Association 's Minnesota Fighting Saints. A teammate's sister, Nancy Dowd, wrote a screenplay about what went on. Universal bought the script. When it came time to cast the film, the Carlsons got the parts, but by then Jack had signed with Edmonton , and the Oilers wouldn't free him. So he was replaced by Jets teammate Dave Hanson, who lent his last name to the brother act.

Slap Shot, which starred Paul Newman , was about a deadbeat minor league hockey team (the Charlestown Chiefs ) in a dying mill town. The losers turned into winners by changing from skaters into brawlers. The film did fairly well, and the "Hansons" went their separate ways.

In 1993, when Steve was coaching the Memphis RiverKings in the Central Hockey League , Jeff and Dave joined him for a ceremonial puck drop. They sold out the 9,500-seat arena. Dave, then the general manager of the New York Islanders ' farm team in Troy, N.Y. , figured the trio could make an appearance with his team, too. The Hansons showed up in their Chiefs uniforms and packed the house. "We wondered if anyone would remember us," says Steve. "Once we saw the response, it was like, Wow!"

Before long, Bud Ice put the Hansons in a TV commercial and sent them on an 80-city tour. Three years later they're still at it. Recently they performed between periods of an IHL game in Milwaukee . Their bits involved scuffling, throwing a whipped-cream pie and "skiing" off the back of a Zamboni . Watching was a fourth-grader, CD in hand. "I didn't want the hockey Hanson!" he whined to his mom. "I wanted the Hanson that sings!"

In the dressing room Jeff unwrapped the foil from his knuckles. "We've been mistaken for teenage pop stars," he grumbled. "Our time may be passing."

It wouldn't be the first time.