Post by Jim H. on May 1, 2023 21:03:25 GMT -5
There was a carnival atmosphere for Week 30, the last skate of the season, or should we say a “Carnavale” atmosphere as we’re sure Angie was looking down with approval. Credit Brian Urban for honoring the occasion with a four-team round robin format complete with a championship game and a level of fun beginning on Friday, Draft Day, when the four captains, Rich Cerbone, Paul Egan, John Lupisella and Rich Devlin selected players over beers at the 19th hole of the Mountain View Golf Course. Rich Cerbone went first, picking Bob Freiling but not before throwing a bucket of pink petals at his feet that he had collected from the crabapple trees on the 10th hole. Other players were similarly courted although shoving a pint of beer under their noses usually sufficed for the pink petals. Once the teams were settled, they needed names, an exercise in wordplay enhanced by the adult beverages. Rich Cerbone’s team earned the moniker “Cheeky’s Minions” in honor of its one player, Cheeky Herr, who played professional hockey with the New York Riveters in 2017. John Lupisella’s bunch was dubbed the Dangers, a kind of Devils/Rangers hybrid in a nod to its two players, Mike Tennant and Andrew Tona, who happen to root for the opposing “rivals across the river”. Rich Devlin’s team was called Motley Brew because of its craft pack’s worth of talent ranging from Brian Urban to Gardie Herr; and finally Paul Egan’s team got saddled with the topical tag of “Space X” because it was like a two-stage rocket: the Starship comprised of players like Brian Pike and Brooks Herr, and the Super Heavy—players like Paul and Joe McNamara who are expendable once their fuel runs out.
Puck drop commenced at 6 o’clock on the nose to maximize the number of 10-minute games that could be squeezed into 90 minutes. First Space X faced off against Cheeky’s Minions, and the Minions went instantly on the attack with Gillian Kibbey and Patrick Crome bringing all the wanton energy of youth to bear on the Space X goal. But Chetti proved even more wanton than they were and stoned shot after shot with exasperating skill that was almost minion-worthy himself. Fittingly Scott Shapiro lit the lamp for Space X; “fittingly” because he’s a doctor specializing in Ears, Nose, Throat and Crashing Down Low. Space X prevailed 1-0.
In Game Two it was Motley Brew versus the Dangers. Motley Brew’s game plan was so simple it could be reduced to a pictograph, one that showed a hockey player with his hands raised above his head. And score they did when Gardie Herr and Brian Urban, in a joint bid to win this year’s Hanger Award, slipped unperceived into the neutral zone and got fed the long outlet pass from Kiyoshi for the easy two-on-nada. The Dangers fell, shut out 1-0, but stayed on ice for the next game against Space X. The starting five for Space X sauntered onto the ice and seemed poised to remain unbeaten. Sure it had the assets. Sure it took the multi-asseted approach. But some of its asses were just too big—and slow—and the Dangers coasted to a 3-1 victory.
Game Four pitted Cheeky’s Minions against Motley Brew with the Minions still trying to notch their first victory. Bob Freiling, for the Minions, was clearly playing under duress, complaining that he had cut down his new stick three times and it was still too short. Nor did it help that he had to play with the kids who try as they might to be team players, had a hard time reconciling their good intentions with the fact that they skated three times as fast as anyone else out on the ice. Bob was a non-factor as Patrick Crome fed Cheeky Herr for the game-winning 2-1 goal. At this point Joe McNamara broke into a lengthy discourse on goal differentials that made actuarial tables look easy. And well he should. After four games all four teams were tied in the standings with one win and one loss apiece.
Game Five was crucial, a matchup between Space X and Motley Brew. Each team had lost to a team that other had beat, so the odds-makers called this one a toss-up. The Brew had golden chances galore but they were all denied by Dan in net who had two brothers, a cousin and a dad watching from the sidelines. When the Brew’s stamina started to ebb we figured it was either due to the fast pace of the game, or the fact that they had stayed up late watching West Coast hockey. Brian Pike and Brooks Herr each scored for Space X to seal the 2-0 victory and guarantee them a berth in the final. This would be against Cheeky’s Minions as Bob Freiling got the lone goal in its Game Six victory against the Dangers, the helper coming from none other than Cheeky herself. Still Bob disclaimed any imputation that he should ever be regarded as a minion. Anti-climatically the title game was played to a zero-zero standstill after five minutes; and one minute into 3 v 3 overtime, Gillian Kibbey shot a puck from the blue line that took a crazy carom off Scott Shapiro’s stick, and dinged off the post and in. Cheeky’s Minions won the championship and Brian Urban won raves for organizing such an event.
Braving cloudrack and rain, the club reconvened at Andrew Tona’s house for the final after party of the year. Five Doughertys were in attendance, including Dad Mike, a first ballot Old Bucks Hall of Famer if there ever was one. Joe Herbert brought a growler of homemade brew that had everyone’s tails wagging; speaking of which, it was good to see Andrew’s dogs again, a dachshund and bull dog, the two most disparate breeds imaginable. Seeing them we always think of the “length contraction” effect predicted by the theory of relativity, to wit, a bull dog is a dachshund approaching the speed of light. But things took a feline turn when Rich Cerbone started standing rounds of JD for anyone who could describe why a panther is their least favorite cat. A small contingent of hockey buffs detached themselves from the majority to watch THE BIG GAME. We understand they remained through overtime. Certainly it was not a good night to be a Boston fan; but the fraternal spirit of Old Bucks burned as bright as ever, and we trust that even the heaviest heart, before nodding off to a fitful sleep, found consolation in that.
Puck drop commenced at 6 o’clock on the nose to maximize the number of 10-minute games that could be squeezed into 90 minutes. First Space X faced off against Cheeky’s Minions, and the Minions went instantly on the attack with Gillian Kibbey and Patrick Crome bringing all the wanton energy of youth to bear on the Space X goal. But Chetti proved even more wanton than they were and stoned shot after shot with exasperating skill that was almost minion-worthy himself. Fittingly Scott Shapiro lit the lamp for Space X; “fittingly” because he’s a doctor specializing in Ears, Nose, Throat and Crashing Down Low. Space X prevailed 1-0.
In Game Two it was Motley Brew versus the Dangers. Motley Brew’s game plan was so simple it could be reduced to a pictograph, one that showed a hockey player with his hands raised above his head. And score they did when Gardie Herr and Brian Urban, in a joint bid to win this year’s Hanger Award, slipped unperceived into the neutral zone and got fed the long outlet pass from Kiyoshi for the easy two-on-nada. The Dangers fell, shut out 1-0, but stayed on ice for the next game against Space X. The starting five for Space X sauntered onto the ice and seemed poised to remain unbeaten. Sure it had the assets. Sure it took the multi-asseted approach. But some of its asses were just too big—and slow—and the Dangers coasted to a 3-1 victory.
Game Four pitted Cheeky’s Minions against Motley Brew with the Minions still trying to notch their first victory. Bob Freiling, for the Minions, was clearly playing under duress, complaining that he had cut down his new stick three times and it was still too short. Nor did it help that he had to play with the kids who try as they might to be team players, had a hard time reconciling their good intentions with the fact that they skated three times as fast as anyone else out on the ice. Bob was a non-factor as Patrick Crome fed Cheeky Herr for the game-winning 2-1 goal. At this point Joe McNamara broke into a lengthy discourse on goal differentials that made actuarial tables look easy. And well he should. After four games all four teams were tied in the standings with one win and one loss apiece.
Game Five was crucial, a matchup between Space X and Motley Brew. Each team had lost to a team that other had beat, so the odds-makers called this one a toss-up. The Brew had golden chances galore but they were all denied by Dan in net who had two brothers, a cousin and a dad watching from the sidelines. When the Brew’s stamina started to ebb we figured it was either due to the fast pace of the game, or the fact that they had stayed up late watching West Coast hockey. Brian Pike and Brooks Herr each scored for Space X to seal the 2-0 victory and guarantee them a berth in the final. This would be against Cheeky’s Minions as Bob Freiling got the lone goal in its Game Six victory against the Dangers, the helper coming from none other than Cheeky herself. Still Bob disclaimed any imputation that he should ever be regarded as a minion. Anti-climatically the title game was played to a zero-zero standstill after five minutes; and one minute into 3 v 3 overtime, Gillian Kibbey shot a puck from the blue line that took a crazy carom off Scott Shapiro’s stick, and dinged off the post and in. Cheeky’s Minions won the championship and Brian Urban won raves for organizing such an event.
Braving cloudrack and rain, the club reconvened at Andrew Tona’s house for the final after party of the year. Five Doughertys were in attendance, including Dad Mike, a first ballot Old Bucks Hall of Famer if there ever was one. Joe Herbert brought a growler of homemade brew that had everyone’s tails wagging; speaking of which, it was good to see Andrew’s dogs again, a dachshund and bull dog, the two most disparate breeds imaginable. Seeing them we always think of the “length contraction” effect predicted by the theory of relativity, to wit, a bull dog is a dachshund approaching the speed of light. But things took a feline turn when Rich Cerbone started standing rounds of JD for anyone who could describe why a panther is their least favorite cat. A small contingent of hockey buffs detached themselves from the majority to watch THE BIG GAME. We understand they remained through overtime. Certainly it was not a good night to be a Boston fan; but the fraternal spirit of Old Bucks burned as bright as ever, and we trust that even the heaviest heart, before nodding off to a fitful sleep, found consolation in that.