Post by Jim H. on Apr 17, 2015 5:21:30 GMT -5
Week 31 fell on the final day of the Masters and well it should have given the uncanny similarity between players in the tournament and members of Old Bucks. Take Tiger Woods, today’s most iconic figure in golf—and Bob Freiling, the most iconic figure in Old Bucks—neither commanding the spotlight but both still worthy of our attention, if only to lament how precipitate has been their fall from grace. Then there’s the fan fave Tom Watson, and his hockey-playing Doppelgänger, Craig Allen, both with their big helmets of gray hair, the former setting the record for sub-par rounds by a senior citizen, the latter poised to have a career game on behalf of Red (more on that later) while humming the song, “I’m up all night to get Louck-y”. We’ll gloss over the Chris Depace/Philly Mick analogy since being southpaws does not exactly make them birds of a feather, although they both have excellent short games and Chris will hole anything from six feet out provided Kenny G. doesn’t swat it away with his stick first. But who can not see a little bit of Rich Devlin in Ben Crenshaw who, rather than retire with dignity, has to sully his green jacket by carding rounds of 85 and 91, missing the cut, placing dead last, and all so he can indulge his appetite for pizza and beer in the clubhouse while talking with Ernie Els about how fast the greens were. Ironically, the weekend duffer extraordinaire, Kenny Blankstein, was missing, in Naples we suppose, probably lolling on the beach, playing Solitaire—and cheating. Owing to his absence, tacit consent and mutual advantage dictated the teams, with Blue getting the two Bassert brothers, Brian Urban and Mark Timmons and Red landing Bob Freiling, Brian Pike and the two Chris’s, Depace and Chairmonte, distinguished by the appellations “Big Chris” and “Bigger Chris”. Unconstrained by parental supervision, the Basserts took bellicosity to a whole new level, their manners devoid of any principle other than the will to blast Red to oblivion. The first salvo belonged to them and it was a doozy, blinding Red with the acrid, gray smoke of battle, nor did the air clear until Blue had a 5-1 lead on the strength of two cannonades by each Bassert and a little mortar round by Dave Hunt. But the example of Bassert success did not rub off on the rest of the team, and Blue soon found itself being outscored 11-2 by a Red team that had reached into its primitive core and tapped the same genetic material the Visigoths were endowed with when they sacked Rome in A.D. 453. At the van of this assault was Craig Allen who, notwithstanding the vigilance of Mark Timmons, the prowess of Rich Cerbone and the repose of Doug Rendell, planted himself in front of the Blue net and feasted on Kenny G. rebounds like they were slices of Brooklyn pie just hot from the oven. Sure he’s had his detractors over the years but they were silenced by a decisive four-goal tear that helped propel Red to a 12-7 advantage even as Paul Egan’s fumbling, comical self managed to bag his second goal in forever. Significantly, the Bassert arsenal was not yet exhausted and they managed a couple more barrages that drew Blue to within two, 13-11, while restoring in Red the apprehension of a tie game—or worse. The turning point came when Dan Dougherty, skating for Red and hobbled by new, synthetic socks that were causing a mysterious numbness in the instep of his right heel, still managed to turn the corner on a flailing Doug Rendell and beat Kenny G. blocker-side with a wrist shot. That was the clincher. The brief Blue comeback, having served only to confirm the futility of resistance, gave way to a “lose the game win the draft” mode that allowed Craig Allen to ace number five on the night and become, at 51, the oldest player in Old Bucks history to score five goals in one game. Congratulations were definitely in order, not just for Craig but new dad (as of March 6) Chris Chairmonte as the after party convened at TJ’s, this time out on the deck owing to the warmth of the night air, and the NHL playoff picture was discussed in the minutest detail while the score of the Old Bucks game itself, 17-13, led to a symposium on the beauty of prime numbers. Rich Devlin polled everyone on a cheesecake flavor for the April 18 blowout at Nick’s place and the vote was unanimous: pumpkin honey ricotta.