Post by Old Bucks Admin on Mar 16, 2013 17:00:47 GMT -5
The locker rooms were noticeably quieter prior to the final session of the 2012-2013 Old Bucks season. The silence may have been a sign of reminiscence and reflection upon yet another soon to be past season, but with a start time of 8:45 PM it was more likely due to the fact that a significant number of skaters were past their bed times and the rest are typically half in the bag at TJ’s by this hour. With the knowledge that this may be the last time to “leave it all out there” before thoughts of breakaway passes, one-timers, and frosty post-game IPAs turn to tee times, barbeques, and Coronas, the Old Bucks tightened their skates and snapped on their helmets just as they have done for so many seasons before.
GM Ken Blankstein rallied the Red bench before puck drop by reminding everyone that this was the last skate and motivated his team to play with pride regardless of the fact that Red had long since wrapped up the season series. Blue, meanwhile, appeared to be motivated by the chance to win the first overall selection in next year’s Old Bucks Entry Draft (hosted by the good people at the Pennington Fire Station).
Blue defenders stood by as Bobby Freiling knocked in an early rebound and then watched as Mike Robbins swatted in a loose puck as he flailed about in a face-down snow angel position. Kenny G, having been victimized twice early by missed defensive assignments, implored his team to get their heads in the game and chastised his mates by informing them that he had not seen such a sloppy start since playing in the regional high school all-star game during his senior year (we even found his old yearbook photo!).
Jim Heffern responded with his first of a pair of snipes from the high slot that caught Red goaltender Marty Urban pre-loading his trademark curses that follow such sloppy coverage.
On the ensuing rush, Red found themselves on a two-on-one where Larry Johnson saucered as nice of a pass as we have seen all season to a streaking Robbins who merely had to redirect the puck past Kenny to reestablish the Red lead. Rink Manager Chris (making a cameo appearance for Blue) tied the game with a dogged effort at a loose puck that saw Marty stop two of three desperate whacks while the Red defensemen tried to clear out bodies and Red forwards circled center ice for breakout passes. More impressive than the goal was the fact that Chris was able to keep his head in the game with the barrage of suggestions coming from the Blue bench regarding potential improvements to the facility. Examples of which including turning one of the rarely used commode stalls into a retrofitted wine cellar (naturally, with the design by Paul Egan and the construction by Jim Heffern) and promoting Louck’s Ice Arena as the newest New York Ranger training facility (a shameless attempt by Devlin).
While the Blue bench preoccupied themselves with special interest lobbies, Huck Fairman rebuilt the Red lead with an off-speed shot from fifteen feet out after receiving a Robbins pass from behind the Blue net. Sensing a need for urgency, Blue erupted for a four goal run by Heffern and Rich Devlin that only served to awaken the Red bench and spur a late game surge of goals from Fairman, Robbins, Frieling, and George Schott. Heffern, who proved to be far more alert on the ice than his hockey attire would suggest (seen below), added his fourth of the evening in an admirable effort that would fall short as Blue stormed off the ice with another sour tasting defeat and another long list of adjustments to make before next season.
With the game extending well into the ten o’clock hour, there would be no post-game beers and no ceremonious acknowledgement of this being the final gathering. Players showered, changed into their street clothes and made their way out to the parking lot amid muted yet sincere mutterings of “good season”, “see you at the party”, and the melancholy “catch you guys in the fall”. There was some banter of a possible spring skate at Ice Land, but as we all know, spring hockey is spring hockey and Old Bucks is Old Bucks. As the last member strolled out through the double doors, the process of putting a rink into hibernation would soon begin. The overhead lights would soon be extinguished and the refrigerators would shortly be powered down as another season of locker room laughter, highlight reel saves, backbreaking last minute goals, whiffed slapshots, biting one-liners, watery pizza, and nearly frozen beer sipped from gloved hands on a frozen January night melts away into the realm of memory and nostalgia. Good season, boys.
GM Ken Blankstein rallied the Red bench before puck drop by reminding everyone that this was the last skate and motivated his team to play with pride regardless of the fact that Red had long since wrapped up the season series. Blue, meanwhile, appeared to be motivated by the chance to win the first overall selection in next year’s Old Bucks Entry Draft (hosted by the good people at the Pennington Fire Station).
Blue defenders stood by as Bobby Freiling knocked in an early rebound and then watched as Mike Robbins swatted in a loose puck as he flailed about in a face-down snow angel position. Kenny G, having been victimized twice early by missed defensive assignments, implored his team to get their heads in the game and chastised his mates by informing them that he had not seen such a sloppy start since playing in the regional high school all-star game during his senior year (we even found his old yearbook photo!).
Jim Heffern responded with his first of a pair of snipes from the high slot that caught Red goaltender Marty Urban pre-loading his trademark curses that follow such sloppy coverage.
On the ensuing rush, Red found themselves on a two-on-one where Larry Johnson saucered as nice of a pass as we have seen all season to a streaking Robbins who merely had to redirect the puck past Kenny to reestablish the Red lead. Rink Manager Chris (making a cameo appearance for Blue) tied the game with a dogged effort at a loose puck that saw Marty stop two of three desperate whacks while the Red defensemen tried to clear out bodies and Red forwards circled center ice for breakout passes. More impressive than the goal was the fact that Chris was able to keep his head in the game with the barrage of suggestions coming from the Blue bench regarding potential improvements to the facility. Examples of which including turning one of the rarely used commode stalls into a retrofitted wine cellar (naturally, with the design by Paul Egan and the construction by Jim Heffern) and promoting Louck’s Ice Arena as the newest New York Ranger training facility (a shameless attempt by Devlin).
While the Blue bench preoccupied themselves with special interest lobbies, Huck Fairman rebuilt the Red lead with an off-speed shot from fifteen feet out after receiving a Robbins pass from behind the Blue net. Sensing a need for urgency, Blue erupted for a four goal run by Heffern and Rich Devlin that only served to awaken the Red bench and spur a late game surge of goals from Fairman, Robbins, Frieling, and George Schott. Heffern, who proved to be far more alert on the ice than his hockey attire would suggest (seen below), added his fourth of the evening in an admirable effort that would fall short as Blue stormed off the ice with another sour tasting defeat and another long list of adjustments to make before next season.
With the game extending well into the ten o’clock hour, there would be no post-game beers and no ceremonious acknowledgement of this being the final gathering. Players showered, changed into their street clothes and made their way out to the parking lot amid muted yet sincere mutterings of “good season”, “see you at the party”, and the melancholy “catch you guys in the fall”. There was some banter of a possible spring skate at Ice Land, but as we all know, spring hockey is spring hockey and Old Bucks is Old Bucks. As the last member strolled out through the double doors, the process of putting a rink into hibernation would soon begin. The overhead lights would soon be extinguished and the refrigerators would shortly be powered down as another season of locker room laughter, highlight reel saves, backbreaking last minute goals, whiffed slapshots, biting one-liners, watery pizza, and nearly frozen beer sipped from gloved hands on a frozen January night melts away into the realm of memory and nostalgia. Good season, boys.