Post by Jim H. on Apr 22, 2024 18:30:04 GMT -5
We were beyond excited to be back for Week 30 with Red’s 12 game unbeaten streak on the line and the game itself giving Red a chance to tie Blue in the standings with a 14-14-2 record. Talk about magical seasons! To think that the unbeaten streak has endured longer than the Golden Bachelor’s marriage—that man who shrewdly changed his vows from “til death do us part” to “til the cameras are no longer recording do us part.” We got to the locker room and chatter was surprisingly light with no mention of either the game’s importance, or even the importance of the NHL playoffs which had begun on Saturday. Indeed, the only sports talk was from Paul Egan who said he thought Caitlyn Clark got burned on her shoe deal. We did notice Mike Tennant gearing up, making an ultra-rare appearance in the Blue ranks. It was good to see him one more time considering he’s doubtful for season-ending Week 31 round robin extravaganza.
We discovered what we love best about spring hockey: the benches are SO clean. No more do we have to obsessively worry about sticking the butt on our stick is some glutinous loogie hawked and spat from the throat of some teenager. We sat on the Red bench where one other thing stood out: ranged among the water bottles was a blueberry-flavored packaged drink called “Bio Steel”—the last word in sports hydration. Whoever came up with that name was a marketing genius. Just looking at the label gave us a surge of vitality. But it didn’t compare to the surge of vitality that got Blue on the board first. It was from the stick of Greg Valenski, the winged Hussar, using the kind of shock cavalry tactics that would net him four on the night and be the bane of Red’s existence. But after Greg’s goal the game went unusually quiet with a whole half hour elapsing scoreless and Dan and Ed coming up with some big stops to save Red the effort of going to the scorer’s box to update the 1-0 tally.
But then all hell broke loose, as sometimes happens in Old Bucks games. It was like a Quentin Tarantino movie—or the first period of the Jets-Avalanche game. Red tied it up 1-1 when Nick Gaudioso threaded the D pairing of Steve Souza and Mark Mayer to get a 100-foot long breakaway. Dan Dougherty was flummoxed having never seen a Nick Gaudioso breakaway in his life. There was no manual on what to do. It was pure guesswork and he didn’t guess that Nick would rip one high glove-side to tie the game. From then on goals begot more goals and Red used the “dueling man Joes” Joe Tona and Joe McNamara to take a 4-3 lead.
This was a volatile game that would see four ties and three lead changes. One tie at 7-7 was snapped by Mike Valenzano who planted himself right on Ed Conrad’s doorstep and got the easy tap in for the goal. We don’t how he was left so wide open but we will say one thing: if there were ropes around the goal and the referee in the middle was wearing a bow tie, Frankie would have never let Mike score that goal. Mike wouldn’t even be left standing up. Be that as it may, Blue was relentless after that key go-ahed goal. Everybody stepped it up. We even saw Bob Freiling backchecking although he was also grimacing as if his legs were unused to such rigorous outlays of energy. We suspect Ed Conrad, in the Red net, was grimacing too. He had been in Vegas all week on business and didn’t get any squats in—not a one, nor does Top Golf on Wings and Swings Wednesdays substitute for squats (although Ed did say he almost hit the Sphere with a Black Ops driver). By the time Blue had an 11-8 lead Ed looked like he needed to be hooked up to an IV bag full of blueberry Bio Steel. Red was tasting it at that point—not victory but pizza, at that watering hole called TJ’s which is more like a cheese hole where you bring your own water.
We still park in the remote, upper lot and as we made our solitary way up the hill we thought back to Week 1 and how we made the same walk with the Blanksteins in a drenching downpour in the dark. So much was different now. The sun was setting, the trees were blooming and Bruce the Zamboni driver was out texting his colleagues directions on how to see the comet: look westward right after the sun sets (no wonder Bruce blew the horn one minute early at 7:29). It all boded well for a splendid afterparty where, once arrived, we found the club snugly ensconced in the right corner of the porch and dishing pasta from a big foil tray full of it—the gift of a worker at the new sushi place next door whom the club had invited for a beer last week. “Kindness begets kindness,” Paul Egan said. Reserving our appetite for pizza, we didn’t have any pasta although Tim White said it was almost as good as his wife’s lasagna with pork chops. Over pizza we made the rounds, commiserating with Joe Bruno about BC losing to Denver in the Frozen Four Finals and sharing stories of Old Lawrenceville with Dave Boggs.
One incident deserves special mention, so closely does it resemble a scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Paul Egan had gone inside to pay for the pizza. Removing his billfold from his pocket, he dropped on the floor one of his premium members only gold cards. A few minutes later it was retrieved by a Lawrenceville student (the students had Monday off so TJ’s was crawling with them). He instantly recognized that such a preeminent symbol of status must belong to that smart-looking set on the front porch with the table crammed with two pizzas, a vat of spaghetti and a generous assortment of beers and small batch spirits. He came outside with the card. “Does this belong to anyone?” he asked. Paul immediately claimed it while commending the student for his honesty and sense of small town etiquette. But the student wasn’t listening. He was engrossed by the sight of the afterparty—the banquet of food and casual gaiety. His eyes ranged over its members just like Jeff Spicoli in the classroom of Mr. Hand, ignoring Mr. Hand and blurting out “Hey! I know that dude!” as only Sean Penn can do in a drawn out surfer-bro voice. Only the Lawrenceville student noticed Aaron Kibbey in a Rangers hat and blurted out, “Hey! Go Rangers! I was at the game today. The place was electric!”
We discovered what we love best about spring hockey: the benches are SO clean. No more do we have to obsessively worry about sticking the butt on our stick is some glutinous loogie hawked and spat from the throat of some teenager. We sat on the Red bench where one other thing stood out: ranged among the water bottles was a blueberry-flavored packaged drink called “Bio Steel”—the last word in sports hydration. Whoever came up with that name was a marketing genius. Just looking at the label gave us a surge of vitality. But it didn’t compare to the surge of vitality that got Blue on the board first. It was from the stick of Greg Valenski, the winged Hussar, using the kind of shock cavalry tactics that would net him four on the night and be the bane of Red’s existence. But after Greg’s goal the game went unusually quiet with a whole half hour elapsing scoreless and Dan and Ed coming up with some big stops to save Red the effort of going to the scorer’s box to update the 1-0 tally.
But then all hell broke loose, as sometimes happens in Old Bucks games. It was like a Quentin Tarantino movie—or the first period of the Jets-Avalanche game. Red tied it up 1-1 when Nick Gaudioso threaded the D pairing of Steve Souza and Mark Mayer to get a 100-foot long breakaway. Dan Dougherty was flummoxed having never seen a Nick Gaudioso breakaway in his life. There was no manual on what to do. It was pure guesswork and he didn’t guess that Nick would rip one high glove-side to tie the game. From then on goals begot more goals and Red used the “dueling man Joes” Joe Tona and Joe McNamara to take a 4-3 lead.
This was a volatile game that would see four ties and three lead changes. One tie at 7-7 was snapped by Mike Valenzano who planted himself right on Ed Conrad’s doorstep and got the easy tap in for the goal. We don’t how he was left so wide open but we will say one thing: if there were ropes around the goal and the referee in the middle was wearing a bow tie, Frankie would have never let Mike score that goal. Mike wouldn’t even be left standing up. Be that as it may, Blue was relentless after that key go-ahed goal. Everybody stepped it up. We even saw Bob Freiling backchecking although he was also grimacing as if his legs were unused to such rigorous outlays of energy. We suspect Ed Conrad, in the Red net, was grimacing too. He had been in Vegas all week on business and didn’t get any squats in—not a one, nor does Top Golf on Wings and Swings Wednesdays substitute for squats (although Ed did say he almost hit the Sphere with a Black Ops driver). By the time Blue had an 11-8 lead Ed looked like he needed to be hooked up to an IV bag full of blueberry Bio Steel. Red was tasting it at that point—not victory but pizza, at that watering hole called TJ’s which is more like a cheese hole where you bring your own water.
We still park in the remote, upper lot and as we made our solitary way up the hill we thought back to Week 1 and how we made the same walk with the Blanksteins in a drenching downpour in the dark. So much was different now. The sun was setting, the trees were blooming and Bruce the Zamboni driver was out texting his colleagues directions on how to see the comet: look westward right after the sun sets (no wonder Bruce blew the horn one minute early at 7:29). It all boded well for a splendid afterparty where, once arrived, we found the club snugly ensconced in the right corner of the porch and dishing pasta from a big foil tray full of it—the gift of a worker at the new sushi place next door whom the club had invited for a beer last week. “Kindness begets kindness,” Paul Egan said. Reserving our appetite for pizza, we didn’t have any pasta although Tim White said it was almost as good as his wife’s lasagna with pork chops. Over pizza we made the rounds, commiserating with Joe Bruno about BC losing to Denver in the Frozen Four Finals and sharing stories of Old Lawrenceville with Dave Boggs.
One incident deserves special mention, so closely does it resemble a scene from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Paul Egan had gone inside to pay for the pizza. Removing his billfold from his pocket, he dropped on the floor one of his premium members only gold cards. A few minutes later it was retrieved by a Lawrenceville student (the students had Monday off so TJ’s was crawling with them). He instantly recognized that such a preeminent symbol of status must belong to that smart-looking set on the front porch with the table crammed with two pizzas, a vat of spaghetti and a generous assortment of beers and small batch spirits. He came outside with the card. “Does this belong to anyone?” he asked. Paul immediately claimed it while commending the student for his honesty and sense of small town etiquette. But the student wasn’t listening. He was engrossed by the sight of the afterparty—the banquet of food and casual gaiety. His eyes ranged over its members just like Jeff Spicoli in the classroom of Mr. Hand, ignoring Mr. Hand and blurting out “Hey! I know that dude!” as only Sean Penn can do in a drawn out surfer-bro voice. Only the Lawrenceville student noticed Aaron Kibbey in a Rangers hat and blurted out, “Hey! Go Rangers! I was at the game today. The place was electric!”