Post by Jim H. on Feb 19, 2023 23:09:32 GMT -5
Never forget.
It’s a precept Blue lives by. And well they should. They have memories like elephants and they take names. Which is why Week 20 was such a big win for them. There were three Blanksteins playing for Red in Week 20. This meant that although Blue won 15-11 it felt more like 45-11. That was how satisfying it was. Also satisfying is Blue’s record over the past seven games. Six wins and one loss. They’re practically invincible. No longer perennial losers, if the trend continues, Blue may, in a decade, lay claim to being the winningest team in Old Bucks history. But not everyone is happy. “Old Bucks is fixed!” some splutter with outrage. They seem ready to cast Brian Urban as the villain in the next Batman movie. “No,” we reply flatly. “Old Bucks is not fixed. Red is fixed. And besides, the correct word is neutered.”
Try as we might to stay off our soapbox and not pontificate about Old Bucks, our resolve fails every time we see Joe Bruno play defense. Defense in Old Bucks is a privilege. It has to be earned like a prized stud that is finally put out to pasture, its mares fenced off, for good, and preferring alfalfa anyway. Unless you’re an exceptionally strong skater like Kiyoshi or Brian Pike, you need to fulfill three criteria to play defense at Old Bucks: be 55+ in age, have a minimum of ten years in the club, and lastly—be willing to sit next to Rich Cerbone and feign interest when he starts talking about the maritime lore of Marblehead. Joe fails on all three, including Marblehead. Sure he was once a Boston brahmin (the only Bruno ever to be so honored) and sure he knows his Beanpot from his Back Bay, his Mystic River from his Make Way for Ducklings, but try to get him focused on anything north of Bunker Hill—and forget about it. And yet—there he is, every week—still on defense. Because every time you prod him into playing up he goes into Amy Winehouse mode:
They tried to make me go to offense
But I said no, no, no.
In the locker room Rich Devlin was writing down everyone’s ages. Either he was tabulating the average age in Old Bucks, or signing them up for Wells Fargo accounts. Eli showed up and told Rich that the weather was so warm there were 40 golfers out at the Trenton Country Club. That got us thinking: the crocuses were coming up, the robins were everywhere, Paul Egan had the cover off his heated pool, and 40 golfers were out at the Trenton Country Club. What do groundhogs know anyway? Then Chris and Greg Dougherty showed up. Chris started cranking out tunes on his blue tooth speaker. “Gimme Shelter” had us pumped. “Layla” had us even more pumped. But we had to hurry and dress before the piano solo began. We always have to fight back tears when we hear that piano solo—and we didn’t want to lose our edge.
Vinnie was back in net for Red, his knee still a little sensitive. He reminded us of Frank Perdue plugging his chickens: “It takes a tough man to make a tender goalie.” The first part of the game was an absolute tempest of shots, scores and dirty hits. There were players gloving pucks into the goal, throwing sticks on breakaways, and generally not abiding by the rules of decorum as laid out in the club charter 50 years ago. Yet the game was still tight, knotted at five goals apiece. We wished we’d had our phone. We would have gone on “Rate My Professor” and given Mark Mayer five stars along with the comment, “Knows his stuff. Easy to talk to. Can shut down Bob Freiling.”
Red eventually pulled away as only Red can do when Andrew Tona, Aaron Kibbey and Joe Peugeot are playing at the top of their game. But the surge was not without controversy as Brian Urban’s entire family was in the scorekeeper’s box and counting by twos whenever Blue scored. Still math is math and not even a crypto whiz could justify what they were doing. Every time Red complained they shot back, “Who’s keeping score here? Us or you?”
It was a tough question that needed to be answered. Red poured it on in the end with a trio of spectacular goals, two of which were assisted by Chris Dougherty and one by Jim Heffern. We won’t say who scored all three goals, but we do have to amend our rating of Mark Mayer. He still gets five stars but we can only write, “Knows his stuff. Easy to talk to.”
One final note: inartful comments by Don Lemon nothwithstanding—Bob Freiling is still in his prime.
It’s a precept Blue lives by. And well they should. They have memories like elephants and they take names. Which is why Week 20 was such a big win for them. There were three Blanksteins playing for Red in Week 20. This meant that although Blue won 15-11 it felt more like 45-11. That was how satisfying it was. Also satisfying is Blue’s record over the past seven games. Six wins and one loss. They’re practically invincible. No longer perennial losers, if the trend continues, Blue may, in a decade, lay claim to being the winningest team in Old Bucks history. But not everyone is happy. “Old Bucks is fixed!” some splutter with outrage. They seem ready to cast Brian Urban as the villain in the next Batman movie. “No,” we reply flatly. “Old Bucks is not fixed. Red is fixed. And besides, the correct word is neutered.”
Try as we might to stay off our soapbox and not pontificate about Old Bucks, our resolve fails every time we see Joe Bruno play defense. Defense in Old Bucks is a privilege. It has to be earned like a prized stud that is finally put out to pasture, its mares fenced off, for good, and preferring alfalfa anyway. Unless you’re an exceptionally strong skater like Kiyoshi or Brian Pike, you need to fulfill three criteria to play defense at Old Bucks: be 55+ in age, have a minimum of ten years in the club, and lastly—be willing to sit next to Rich Cerbone and feign interest when he starts talking about the maritime lore of Marblehead. Joe fails on all three, including Marblehead. Sure he was once a Boston brahmin (the only Bruno ever to be so honored) and sure he knows his Beanpot from his Back Bay, his Mystic River from his Make Way for Ducklings, but try to get him focused on anything north of Bunker Hill—and forget about it. And yet—there he is, every week—still on defense. Because every time you prod him into playing up he goes into Amy Winehouse mode:
They tried to make me go to offense
But I said no, no, no.
In the locker room Rich Devlin was writing down everyone’s ages. Either he was tabulating the average age in Old Bucks, or signing them up for Wells Fargo accounts. Eli showed up and told Rich that the weather was so warm there were 40 golfers out at the Trenton Country Club. That got us thinking: the crocuses were coming up, the robins were everywhere, Paul Egan had the cover off his heated pool, and 40 golfers were out at the Trenton Country Club. What do groundhogs know anyway? Then Chris and Greg Dougherty showed up. Chris started cranking out tunes on his blue tooth speaker. “Gimme Shelter” had us pumped. “Layla” had us even more pumped. But we had to hurry and dress before the piano solo began. We always have to fight back tears when we hear that piano solo—and we didn’t want to lose our edge.
Vinnie was back in net for Red, his knee still a little sensitive. He reminded us of Frank Perdue plugging his chickens: “It takes a tough man to make a tender goalie.” The first part of the game was an absolute tempest of shots, scores and dirty hits. There were players gloving pucks into the goal, throwing sticks on breakaways, and generally not abiding by the rules of decorum as laid out in the club charter 50 years ago. Yet the game was still tight, knotted at five goals apiece. We wished we’d had our phone. We would have gone on “Rate My Professor” and given Mark Mayer five stars along with the comment, “Knows his stuff. Easy to talk to. Can shut down Bob Freiling.”
Red eventually pulled away as only Red can do when Andrew Tona, Aaron Kibbey and Joe Peugeot are playing at the top of their game. But the surge was not without controversy as Brian Urban’s entire family was in the scorekeeper’s box and counting by twos whenever Blue scored. Still math is math and not even a crypto whiz could justify what they were doing. Every time Red complained they shot back, “Who’s keeping score here? Us or you?”
It was a tough question that needed to be answered. Red poured it on in the end with a trio of spectacular goals, two of which were assisted by Chris Dougherty and one by Jim Heffern. We won’t say who scored all three goals, but we do have to amend our rating of Mark Mayer. He still gets five stars but we can only write, “Knows his stuff. Easy to talk to.”
One final note: inartful comments by Don Lemon nothwithstanding—Bob Freiling is still in his prime.