Post by Old Bucks Admin on Dec 1, 2010 6:21:08 GMT -5
There was no hype for Week 9; Feast Week was over and gone were the droves of skaters drawn to the club by the collegial, holiday mood. Gone also were the Cerbones, forcing Blue to direct the “bat signal” over Bob Freiling’s house, calling him to the rink to fill the vacuum. Rich Devlin needed no such prompting. He had skipped his 18th wedding anniversary just to play hockey. It reminded us of the Louck Ice Center’s motto, “Who enters here forgets himself, his country, and his wife.”
Week 9 took its hue and character from the frigid temperatures. We know rinks are supposed to be cold, but not painfully so. It was so cold Saunders’ scalp had to be de-iced. It was so cold Hughie sneezed and his mustache broke. Think Lambeau Field in January, substitute ice for sod, and that’s how cold it was. Blue seemed the more susceptible; its players were more elderly, and their circulation poor. You could almost hear them creak to their feet as they got up between shifts. Sure the ice was fast, but then again, this is Old Bucks so only the loosest definition of “fast” applies. Just say the puck was fast; the players poked along as usual.
Saunders opened the scoring. It was a good play. Eddie had the puck off a Jamie save. He opted not to pass it, but go around Saunders, daring him to take the puck. Saunders stripped him, and scored, all in the blink of an eye. Then he glared at the Red bench triumphantly. 1-0 Blue.
A brief interval ensued. Not much occurred except Eddie got cross-checked hard into the ice and Saunders was named a “person of interest”. Then Red tied the game on a play that began in their own zone. First they cleared the puck past the blue line. Doug Rendell controlled it, only to have Nick Swift challenge him. By some unreasoning impulse born of panic, Doug made a blind, behind-the-back pass across the neutral zone hoping to connect with his co-defenseman, Fred Diaz. Jonathan Millen intercepted, and took the puck the length of the ice, beating Marty for the score. From our vantage we couldn’t catch Marty’s reaction; all we know is that his Christmas card list is now one name shorter.
Blue felt vulnerable without Rich Cerbone—like they were playing without a cup. Red took advantage, and quickly went up 3-1 on goals by George Schott and Mike Rollins. The touchstone of Blue spirit—their bouncebackability—seemed absent. And Bob Freiling, a.k.a. Rangerman, never got into the game’s ebb and flow, mostly ebbing up ice and neglecting to flow back. Credit Red’s defense for a game that turned into a one-sided, “drive-Marty-to-distraction” romp. Craig Allen, to whom playing defense is a form of relaxation rivaled only by his hot tub, looked like Ray Bourque; and Kenny and Hughie looked like Messrs. Bog and Quagmire. They had an easy night of it, and made Blue look bad. All the Red bench had needed to complete their satisfaction was a pellet stove.
There was one notable aside. Three-quarters of the way through the game, Blue was trailing 10-5. But Saunders had two goals and was gunning for a hat trick. Saunders had the puck and shared a wide-open two-on-one with Bob Freiling. We admired Bob’s naivete, stick down on the ice, expectantly waiting the pass from Saunders. Anyone else would have known that Saunders would have sooner given up his Lady Gaga tickets than given up the puck at that point. Saunders shot right into Jamie’s chest protector and was denied the hatter.
Red won 12-6.
Week 9 took its hue and character from the frigid temperatures. We know rinks are supposed to be cold, but not painfully so. It was so cold Saunders’ scalp had to be de-iced. It was so cold Hughie sneezed and his mustache broke. Think Lambeau Field in January, substitute ice for sod, and that’s how cold it was. Blue seemed the more susceptible; its players were more elderly, and their circulation poor. You could almost hear them creak to their feet as they got up between shifts. Sure the ice was fast, but then again, this is Old Bucks so only the loosest definition of “fast” applies. Just say the puck was fast; the players poked along as usual.
Saunders opened the scoring. It was a good play. Eddie had the puck off a Jamie save. He opted not to pass it, but go around Saunders, daring him to take the puck. Saunders stripped him, and scored, all in the blink of an eye. Then he glared at the Red bench triumphantly. 1-0 Blue.
A brief interval ensued. Not much occurred except Eddie got cross-checked hard into the ice and Saunders was named a “person of interest”. Then Red tied the game on a play that began in their own zone. First they cleared the puck past the blue line. Doug Rendell controlled it, only to have Nick Swift challenge him. By some unreasoning impulse born of panic, Doug made a blind, behind-the-back pass across the neutral zone hoping to connect with his co-defenseman, Fred Diaz. Jonathan Millen intercepted, and took the puck the length of the ice, beating Marty for the score. From our vantage we couldn’t catch Marty’s reaction; all we know is that his Christmas card list is now one name shorter.
Blue felt vulnerable without Rich Cerbone—like they were playing without a cup. Red took advantage, and quickly went up 3-1 on goals by George Schott and Mike Rollins. The touchstone of Blue spirit—their bouncebackability—seemed absent. And Bob Freiling, a.k.a. Rangerman, never got into the game’s ebb and flow, mostly ebbing up ice and neglecting to flow back. Credit Red’s defense for a game that turned into a one-sided, “drive-Marty-to-distraction” romp. Craig Allen, to whom playing defense is a form of relaxation rivaled only by his hot tub, looked like Ray Bourque; and Kenny and Hughie looked like Messrs. Bog and Quagmire. They had an easy night of it, and made Blue look bad. All the Red bench had needed to complete their satisfaction was a pellet stove.
There was one notable aside. Three-quarters of the way through the game, Blue was trailing 10-5. But Saunders had two goals and was gunning for a hat trick. Saunders had the puck and shared a wide-open two-on-one with Bob Freiling. We admired Bob’s naivete, stick down on the ice, expectantly waiting the pass from Saunders. Anyone else would have known that Saunders would have sooner given up his Lady Gaga tickets than given up the puck at that point. Saunders shot right into Jamie’s chest protector and was denied the hatter.
Red won 12-6.