Post by Old Bucks Admin on Jan 12, 2012 5:54:05 GMT -5
Red and Blue mustered every stick they could for Week 14, anticipating an epic battle to kick off the second half of the season. Each team fielded a whopping 17 skaters; in fact, it’s no exaggeration to say the whole club showed up in addition to the Blankstein siblings and Kenny G.’s son-in-law. Warm up saw a crush of skaters resembling a New Dehli intersection during rush hour; that no one collided can only be attributed to the fact that Hughie and Paul Egan remained at opposite ends of the rink. But Kenny was overwhelmed in terms of making teams; his normally sharp eye for talent could not cope with the dizzying array of possibilities. Instead he let the teams make themselves, merely keeping a running head count to make sure they were numerically balanced. Just before face-off, seeing Red had a two-man advantage he sent Craig Allen over to Blue. That Craig got cold-shouldered was not surprising. Who did Blue expect anyway? Mike Robbins?
When we last left off, Red had a three-game winning streak, outscoring Blue in the same span 43-19—embarrassing stats even by Old Bucks’ rather loose standards of “embarrassing”. Whether this put a damper on Blue’s holiday, we can’t tell; but if those photos circulating on Twitter that showed Paul Egan smoking a shisha pipe and drinking a bottle of wine are any indication, Blue made out just fine. Futility aside, Blue was all phlegm and mettle for Week 14, bringing a “no nonsense” attitude to the ice that brooked no rival, especially a team headed by that worst of Blue-Baiters, Bob Freiling. Not a man on Blue—until it was proven to the contrary—thought it could lose the game. Brimming with confidence, Blue went briskly to work, jumping out to a 2-0 lead with Rich Cerbone and Bill Hamill providing the offense, both of whom made Marty look out of practice and out of countenance. So far so good. We caught fleeting glimpses of Blue’s former vim and vigor as it outhustled Red through the first half-hour of the game, earning a razor-thin 6-5 lead as the teams “headed down the back stretch”. What happened next, however, suggested what would happen the rest of the game. With Red deep in the Blue zone, John Lupisella made a long, blind pass to the front of the net that ricocheted off Rich Cerbone’s skate and into the net, tying the game at sixes. Call it pure happenstance—an unsolicited stroke of Red luck; nevertheless, it was not the kind of play that bodes well for a team whose straits give new meaning to the term “desperate”.
Red had scotched the snake—now it was time to kill it. Alan Blankstein began, taking the puck up the middle and encountering the two Blue defensemen, Steve Souza and Doug Rendell, who gave him a little TSA patdown before he continued on his way, scoring and giving Red the 7-6 lead. Then Bob Freiling made a scintillating move behind the Blue net, selling everyone, including Kenny G. on the notion he would dump the puck out front—and then with lightning reflexes he turned to stuff it in next to the post. On Blue’s ensuing breakout the Bassert brothers misplayed the puck and Bob F. picked up the turnover and scored again, making it 9-6 Red. It hardly mattered that Andrew Bassert soon scored, because Bob Freiling gave him tit-for-tat, scoring again, completing the single-shift hat trick and breaking Blue’s resolve with the 10-7 lead. Blue sticks were quiet thereafter, except for a few perfunctory raps on the boards when Kenny made a big save. Red scored at will, nor did Fortune distinguish between the swift and the slow with even players like Larry Johnson lighting the lamp. Amidst the butchery Saunders got all “J’Accusey!” on Mike Robbins, shouting from the bench that he was a serial double shifter—of all Blue’s excuses probably the prissiest one we’ve heard. It’s enough to make one think Blue deserves it’s lot in life: perennial also-rans, the LA Clippers of Old Bucks, a weak, hollow-chested sparring partner for the heavy-weight champ, mindless drones whose only purpose is to amuse Red. Their disgrace is verging on the indelible. Perhaps they’ll feel inspired and play better in Week 15.
When we last left off, Red had a three-game winning streak, outscoring Blue in the same span 43-19—embarrassing stats even by Old Bucks’ rather loose standards of “embarrassing”. Whether this put a damper on Blue’s holiday, we can’t tell; but if those photos circulating on Twitter that showed Paul Egan smoking a shisha pipe and drinking a bottle of wine are any indication, Blue made out just fine. Futility aside, Blue was all phlegm and mettle for Week 14, bringing a “no nonsense” attitude to the ice that brooked no rival, especially a team headed by that worst of Blue-Baiters, Bob Freiling. Not a man on Blue—until it was proven to the contrary—thought it could lose the game. Brimming with confidence, Blue went briskly to work, jumping out to a 2-0 lead with Rich Cerbone and Bill Hamill providing the offense, both of whom made Marty look out of practice and out of countenance. So far so good. We caught fleeting glimpses of Blue’s former vim and vigor as it outhustled Red through the first half-hour of the game, earning a razor-thin 6-5 lead as the teams “headed down the back stretch”. What happened next, however, suggested what would happen the rest of the game. With Red deep in the Blue zone, John Lupisella made a long, blind pass to the front of the net that ricocheted off Rich Cerbone’s skate and into the net, tying the game at sixes. Call it pure happenstance—an unsolicited stroke of Red luck; nevertheless, it was not the kind of play that bodes well for a team whose straits give new meaning to the term “desperate”.
Red had scotched the snake—now it was time to kill it. Alan Blankstein began, taking the puck up the middle and encountering the two Blue defensemen, Steve Souza and Doug Rendell, who gave him a little TSA patdown before he continued on his way, scoring and giving Red the 7-6 lead. Then Bob Freiling made a scintillating move behind the Blue net, selling everyone, including Kenny G. on the notion he would dump the puck out front—and then with lightning reflexes he turned to stuff it in next to the post. On Blue’s ensuing breakout the Bassert brothers misplayed the puck and Bob F. picked up the turnover and scored again, making it 9-6 Red. It hardly mattered that Andrew Bassert soon scored, because Bob Freiling gave him tit-for-tat, scoring again, completing the single-shift hat trick and breaking Blue’s resolve with the 10-7 lead. Blue sticks were quiet thereafter, except for a few perfunctory raps on the boards when Kenny made a big save. Red scored at will, nor did Fortune distinguish between the swift and the slow with even players like Larry Johnson lighting the lamp. Amidst the butchery Saunders got all “J’Accusey!” on Mike Robbins, shouting from the bench that he was a serial double shifter—of all Blue’s excuses probably the prissiest one we’ve heard. It’s enough to make one think Blue deserves it’s lot in life: perennial also-rans, the LA Clippers of Old Bucks, a weak, hollow-chested sparring partner for the heavy-weight champ, mindless drones whose only purpose is to amuse Red. Their disgrace is verging on the indelible. Perhaps they’ll feel inspired and play better in Week 15.