Post by Jim H. on Feb 7, 2022 6:59:18 GMT -5
Week 20 coincided with the NHL’s All-Star extravaganza in Vegas so it was hard not to get pumped up for Week 20. We watched the Fountain Face-Off in front of the Bellagio and between the absence of fans, the players complaining about how cold it was, and the “pond hockey” atmosphere of shooting pucks off floating islands—it looked just like Old Bucks. No wonder the TeamReach app was off the charts with a tally of 20+ players guaranteeing they’d be there. Between the All-Star games and Punxsutawney Brian seeing his shadow and predicting six more weeks of Blue victories, the atmosphere was electric.
We got to the rink late so missed Paul Egan’s big announcement that he is transitioning into James Bond and from now on would like to be referred to as 007 (apparently the delivery of his Astin Martin is pending the extension of his work visa). We threw our on gear on with barely enough time to hobnob with Mike Tennant, a man of fluid loyalties judging by the scarlet jersey that now graced his person. When we got to the bench the game was knotted at one goal apiece and Tim White gave us the breakdown:
“First Blue scored with the kind of goal that was like how’d that go in? and then Bobby went high over Danny’s glove.”
Yes, that was Dan Dougherty in goal for Blue, his jersey not so much gray as “iced cubed silver” (Benjamin Moore 2121-50) but the same jersey, nonetheless, that will one day take on heirloom status between the competing dynasties of the Urbans and Doughertys. Word on the Red bench was that he hadn’t play goal in three years, always a challenge when you have defensemen like the big-boned Bruno who apparently hasn’t played defense in his entire life!
Red proceeded to score five goals to Blue’s one, although Blue’s one goal was by Colin Disbrow and the last time we saw him playing Old Bucks was at least three variants ago. Red was doing was Red does best—subjecting Blue to a slow, agonizing Joe Roganesque “Death of a Thousand Tweets”. Bob Freiling’s Peloton-toned legs were skating circles around players like Rich Cerbone who merely looks at a Peloton and feels resistance, not in the pedals, but in the idea of getting on such a thing.
By what stratagem Blue clawed their way back into contention is hard to say. Perhaps it was simply that Red started playing like All-Stars, meaning skating around the ice as slowly as possible because they didn’t want to get hurt. When Brian Urban drew Blue within one, 6-5, his teammate, Mark Herr, skated past the Red bench and let fly the following insult, “The Red sweaters are getting tighter.” Leave it to a lawyer to work the word “sweater” into trash talk.
Literally a sweater, in terms of “someone who sweats” Dan Dougherty’s jersey had darkened to “evening shadow gray” (Ben Moore 1857-32) when John Lupisella made a slick dish to Bob Freiling and Red took a 7-6 lead. Blue soon struck back, the equalizer coming off the stick of 007 who in a cross between “You Only Live Twice” and “You Only Score Once” went top glove on Vinnie’s butterfly.
But Blue was gassed and Red pressed their advantage, ultimately taking a 15-minute victory lap, the entire team drafting behind Bob Freiling who was in a full tuck power zone as he sprinted toward the 12-8 finish line and imagined his instructor, Fiona, congratulating him with a hearty, inimitably British “Well done, Bobby!”
We got to the rink late so missed Paul Egan’s big announcement that he is transitioning into James Bond and from now on would like to be referred to as 007 (apparently the delivery of his Astin Martin is pending the extension of his work visa). We threw our on gear on with barely enough time to hobnob with Mike Tennant, a man of fluid loyalties judging by the scarlet jersey that now graced his person. When we got to the bench the game was knotted at one goal apiece and Tim White gave us the breakdown:
“First Blue scored with the kind of goal that was like how’d that go in? and then Bobby went high over Danny’s glove.”
Yes, that was Dan Dougherty in goal for Blue, his jersey not so much gray as “iced cubed silver” (Benjamin Moore 2121-50) but the same jersey, nonetheless, that will one day take on heirloom status between the competing dynasties of the Urbans and Doughertys. Word on the Red bench was that he hadn’t play goal in three years, always a challenge when you have defensemen like the big-boned Bruno who apparently hasn’t played defense in his entire life!
Red proceeded to score five goals to Blue’s one, although Blue’s one goal was by Colin Disbrow and the last time we saw him playing Old Bucks was at least three variants ago. Red was doing was Red does best—subjecting Blue to a slow, agonizing Joe Roganesque “Death of a Thousand Tweets”. Bob Freiling’s Peloton-toned legs were skating circles around players like Rich Cerbone who merely looks at a Peloton and feels resistance, not in the pedals, but in the idea of getting on such a thing.
By what stratagem Blue clawed their way back into contention is hard to say. Perhaps it was simply that Red started playing like All-Stars, meaning skating around the ice as slowly as possible because they didn’t want to get hurt. When Brian Urban drew Blue within one, 6-5, his teammate, Mark Herr, skated past the Red bench and let fly the following insult, “The Red sweaters are getting tighter.” Leave it to a lawyer to work the word “sweater” into trash talk.
Literally a sweater, in terms of “someone who sweats” Dan Dougherty’s jersey had darkened to “evening shadow gray” (Ben Moore 1857-32) when John Lupisella made a slick dish to Bob Freiling and Red took a 7-6 lead. Blue soon struck back, the equalizer coming off the stick of 007 who in a cross between “You Only Live Twice” and “You Only Score Once” went top glove on Vinnie’s butterfly.
But Blue was gassed and Red pressed their advantage, ultimately taking a 15-minute victory lap, the entire team drafting behind Bob Freiling who was in a full tuck power zone as he sprinted toward the 12-8 finish line and imagined his instructor, Fiona, congratulating him with a hearty, inimitably British “Well done, Bobby!”