Post by Jim H. on Dec 5, 2021 22:54:17 GMT -5
With Red enjoying a five-game winning streak, we came to Week 13 thinking how hard Kenny works on behalf of Old Bucks, whether its complaining to Andrew Ducko about the cold locker rooms, making sure we got two goalies every week, dunning delinquent deadbeats for dough, or even dispensing prorated refunds to disgruntled Blue players—and how five-game winning streaks are small compensation for all this hard work but compensation nonetheless. In Week 13 he was poised to make it six in a row with his roster boasting two prima donnas—Kiyoshi and Brian Pike—and one prima Bobby, that same hockey standout whose fierce battle-stare we’d almost liken to Mike Keenan’s in 1994 except that Bobby's a Flyers fan and might take umbrage at the comparison.
Blue, on the other hand, welcomed back Brian Urban and Paul Egan, the Smash and Grab, the Sturm und Drang, the Pfizer and Moderna of an offense that lately has been hard pressed to ward off the Red plague. “A little tweaky,” was how Paul described his knee, vowing he was going to “take it easy” during the game, or in other words, play exactly like he’s always played. We got to the Blue bench late and asked Rich Devlin the score. “It’s 1-1,” he said. “No. It’s 3-3,” Frankie interjected, interrupting the solitary vigil he was keeping at the other end of the bench. Andrew Tona then scored and when we got on the ice we consulted Vinnie who said it was 3-3 now and so we used that as our benchmark of what the true score was.
Red quickly jumped out to an 8-4 lead. Three of the goals were by the new player, Ben David, whom we haven’t met yet but Paul Egan says he’s French Canadian and even speaks with a lilting French accent. The key to Ben’s game is that he wears an orange jersey. That way Blue mistakes him for Huck Fairman, leaves him alone, and this allows him to basically score at will.
Blue, in the meantime, had a hard time piercing the citadel of Brian Pike and Kiyoshi who were jealously guarding Vinnie and the Red goal, not to mention Vinnie himself who met his quota of spectacular saves (and then some) and it was only when Kenny and Eddie were on the ice that the ensuing “Game of Cones” enabled Blue to narrow Red’s lead to one, 9-8.
A couple goals by Rich Devlin down the stretch, and one by Greg Dougherty, knotted the game at twelves. Here’s where things got exciting. For this year the rink sets the clock at 90 minutes and it counts down to zero, at which point the game ends. With less than a minute to play Red was pressing the attack. Joe Bruno, that big Belgian block of a buffer between the blue line and the Blue goal, was trying to best to push Brian Pike to the outside—and he succeeded inasmuch the puck was diverted behind the goal as precious seconds ticked away. Leave it to Bob Freiling, who just bought a Peloton, to corral the loose puck and somehow transmute his leaden legs (Peloton’s are exhausting) into a golden wraparound and seal the Red win—all with 30 seconds to spare.
The after party was a blast. A big crowd showed and four pies were consumed, one sausage, one pepperoni, one plain and one white in honor of Tim White who was there and still teasing everyone with talk of an imminent return to the ice.
Blue, on the other hand, welcomed back Brian Urban and Paul Egan, the Smash and Grab, the Sturm und Drang, the Pfizer and Moderna of an offense that lately has been hard pressed to ward off the Red plague. “A little tweaky,” was how Paul described his knee, vowing he was going to “take it easy” during the game, or in other words, play exactly like he’s always played. We got to the Blue bench late and asked Rich Devlin the score. “It’s 1-1,” he said. “No. It’s 3-3,” Frankie interjected, interrupting the solitary vigil he was keeping at the other end of the bench. Andrew Tona then scored and when we got on the ice we consulted Vinnie who said it was 3-3 now and so we used that as our benchmark of what the true score was.
Red quickly jumped out to an 8-4 lead. Three of the goals were by the new player, Ben David, whom we haven’t met yet but Paul Egan says he’s French Canadian and even speaks with a lilting French accent. The key to Ben’s game is that he wears an orange jersey. That way Blue mistakes him for Huck Fairman, leaves him alone, and this allows him to basically score at will.
Blue, in the meantime, had a hard time piercing the citadel of Brian Pike and Kiyoshi who were jealously guarding Vinnie and the Red goal, not to mention Vinnie himself who met his quota of spectacular saves (and then some) and it was only when Kenny and Eddie were on the ice that the ensuing “Game of Cones” enabled Blue to narrow Red’s lead to one, 9-8.
A couple goals by Rich Devlin down the stretch, and one by Greg Dougherty, knotted the game at twelves. Here’s where things got exciting. For this year the rink sets the clock at 90 minutes and it counts down to zero, at which point the game ends. With less than a minute to play Red was pressing the attack. Joe Bruno, that big Belgian block of a buffer between the blue line and the Blue goal, was trying to best to push Brian Pike to the outside—and he succeeded inasmuch the puck was diverted behind the goal as precious seconds ticked away. Leave it to Bob Freiling, who just bought a Peloton, to corral the loose puck and somehow transmute his leaden legs (Peloton’s are exhausting) into a golden wraparound and seal the Red win—all with 30 seconds to spare.
The after party was a blast. A big crowd showed and four pies were consumed, one sausage, one pepperoni, one plain and one white in honor of Tim White who was there and still teasing everyone with talk of an imminent return to the ice.