Post by Jim H. on Jan 15, 2024 8:09:36 GMT -5
There’s nothing like arctic blasts of frigid winds to tell you that winter has arrived in earnest. We knew extreme weather was on the way Thursday when we saw Paul Egan’s latest Instagram pic showing him eating freeze-dried flakes of chow mein in a survival hut in some off-piste region of Snowmass. So much for his flamboyant lifestyle. We like to think we live flamboyantly too but we don’t go spreading it on social media. Not by a long shot. We’re just happy if we don’t show up in unredacted photos of the Epstein compound (we’d be the one sitting next to Stephen Hawking talking about black holes).
Which brings us to Week 17. It’s almost as if we have a sixth sense when it comes to Brian making the teams. Like we can read his mind. We saw who was playing beforehand on the TeamReach app and we had a hunch. And this hunch proved correct at 1:29 Sunday afternoon when Brian posted the teams on WhatsApp. Just like we suspected: Red was going to have to leave the rarified world of Ben David and return to the primordial soup of Bob Freiling. Speaking of which, Vinnie was back whose tenure with the club predates even Bob. He got his gear on and went out for warm-ups while we were still suiting up so we didn’t catch the emotional moment he absorbed his first head-high rip from Hughie. By the time we took the ice, the game was already in progress and Vinnie was on the Red bench ready to jump between the pipes should either goalie, Ed or Mark, worn out by the stress of a 30-goal game, decide to tap out. More on that scenario later.
This game had so many goals so we’re just going to gloss over the first 18 where Blue had a 10-8 lead. Then Brian Urban, for Red, bore down on Mark and hoisted a high one home to make it 10-9. We noticed Ryan Crowell’s son behind the net who captured the whole goal, including the celly afterward, on his GoPro. Hopefully he’ll share the footage with us so we can slow it down to .25 speed, add some music, and we’re sure it’ll get at least 100 views, 95 of which will be from Brian’s family.
Andrew Cordssen-David, who’s not a “throw it toward the cage” kind of guy, threw it toward the cage and it went in to make the score 11-9. But Aaron Kibbey, who had commandeered Rich Devlin’s office in his absence, left off hosting a “lunch and lose” just long enough to make the score 11-10. But Blue wouldn’t stand for it. They put all their eggs in the Ben David basket who scored to make it 12-10. Blue was in the driver’s seat now. It would take a boneheaded play to cede momentum to Red and Joe McNamara provided. It was on the occasion of Mark Mayer clearing the puck by floating it out of the zone. For some reason Joe batted the puck down with his glove before it crossed the blue line. Perhaps he was overthinking (always dangerous when combined with underperforming). Anyway, Bob Freiling, whose old magic still flashes sporadically, like lightning, corralled the loose puck and sent an oak-cleaving thunderbolt past Mark to make it 12-11.
The crowd was into it, including Ryan’s wife and Ed Collins’ wife too. Andrew Cordssen-David went on the attack and had no trouble finding John Lupisella standing alone in front of the cage, just because Joe Bruno, on defense, is one of those Joes who needs a Jill to tell him exactly where to stand. Johnnie banged it past Ed Conrad, who at this point was gassed and ready to tap out, having done so many squats on Friday that he didn’t leave any for Old Bucks. But where was Vinnie? Gone. After warm-ups his knee got sorer and sorer, and on top of that his dipstick showed him a beer low.
Soon Ed Collins who skates so fast he makes two line passes to himself scored to make it 14-11. But Red is nothing if not resilient. Brian Urban glanced one off a glove-side post to make it 14-12. And Bobby scored again, cleaning up an Aaron shot and falling on top of a sprawling Mark (the goalie interference was waved off). Down 14-13 Red was trying to trace the same narrative arc as the Hoosiers movie. But Ben David scored again with an unsaveable rip that looked like easy pickins for Ben. Then Frankie showed a little slice of brilliance and got his dollar for the day by tucking a low forehand shot into the open corner. And made a nice feed to Ed Collins, too, for the last goal of the game—17-13. Thirty goals were scored, just like a Mite game. Old Bucks is now entering its second childhood of blue pucks and half-ice hockey.
Very modest turnout at TJ’s by MLK standards—just 10 people and two pizzas. We sat with Ed Conrad and watched as he urgently texted his wife to fire up the hot tub. Having just bought a chainsaw, we pumped John Lupisella for information on how not to cut our leg. The key is to not cut brush with an 18” blade. We conferred with Ed Odoski on how to fix the booth with the broken bench. A hammer drill and some wedge expansion anchors should do the trick. Best of all, Vinnie was there. He had a couple Miller Lites, a slice of pizza, and regaled the club with stories of Old Bucks in the 90s when the other goalie, Tony, was constantly telling Angie that he would play Sunday night—and then not show up. Incidentally, there was one slice of pepperoni left over, which went to Johnny, who didn’t have to be asked twice.