2013 Top Twelve

1. Patrice Bergeron’s game-winner for the Bruins against the Maple Leafs—hear the Dave Goucher's call or from the announcers in Finland.

2. Writing to Pope Francis, asking for his opinion about Holy Donuts in Portland, ME. (Papa Francisco: Espero su respuesta.)

3. Celebrating twenty years of marriage to the AMHL Photographer.

4. Seeing my little brother, Dennis (the one with the most hockey talent in our family and an Avalanche/Michael Jackson fan) and his youth hockey pals and other punks all grown up.

5. Blue Star Donuts in Portland, OR.

6. Publishing a piece at Puck Daddy.

7. St. Andrews, NB: Our annual visit to the safe house where the protagonist in my novel plays hockey and mentioning the sea-side town in a song I wrote.

8. Learning how to play “I Wanna Drive the Zamboni” (Gear Daddies) on the guitar (I know the basics, anyway) as well as playing tunes by Canadians Michael Bublé and Bryan Adams.

9. The Bear and the Gang Christmas Spectacular: Everything from Dave Goucher’s voice to Patrice Bergeron’s Christmas present, to Dougie Hamilton’s red nose to Rene Rancourt’s toboggan ride with the Bear. Fa la la laugh out loud.

10. Tuukka Rask—two Us, two Ks… and Zdeno Chara—two goals—shut out the Flames.  This was a special game not just because Jerome Iginla’s ex-team was at the TD Garden but also because it was 80’s night: Terry O’Reilly dropped the honorary puck, and the in-game music included an a-ha moment and New Kids on the Block.

11. J.-P. Plouffe’s eccentric world where hockey, society, and art all get along (mostly).

12. Reconnecting with my AMHL friends after the Thursday Fall 2013Championship Game. 

Charles Bradley: Pucks, Pets and CAN-AM Camaraderie, Part I

May 11, 2013

Saturday morning

West Concord, MA

The AMHL Photographer and I sit at our usual table at Dunkin’ Donuts, discussing an upcoming doctor appointment to address my Humpty Dumpty Groin.

She notices a familiar face entering the place, and I look left to watch Charles Bradley, an AMHLer, a veterinarian and one fine Canadian, approach. Wearing a solid bold blue short-sleeved shirt and smiling, he extends his right hand to meet mine.

Half of his left thumbnail is black and blue. Looks like a hockey injury to me. Charlie raises his hands, like a begging beagle, to reenact his awkward attempt to block a shot during a 3–1 loss on Tuesday morning. He laughs at himself.

Despite his Avalanche losing to the Leafs and his bruised lunula, Charlie seems happy, like the same fellow I got to know ten years ago, when he shared his hockey (and donut) story with me.

I asked him on that Tuesday morning in March, 2003, “Given your preference, Tim Hortons or Dunkin’ Donuts?”

Just then someone opened the fire escape door, not because of an emergency but because the door was closer to his car. This triggered a fire alarm bell.

“Tim Hortons,” Charlie said.

Tim Hortons, I say, OK.

“Definitely.”

I had a feeling, but there was a pause

“Because of the bell,” he says.

I switch from donuts to hockey and learn that Charlie was born and raised in Montreal (pronounced MUN–tree–all) and started playing hockey when he was four or five years old. 

“Our grade school was in Loyola Park, and we had four hockey rinks and one skating rink right behind us. The City maintained it.” Charlie said. “And in those days (1960s), we didn’t have really artificial ice, except for the (Verdun Auditorium) and Montreal Forum. Well, we played hockey every day; we played because the rinks were maintained by the City.”

These were outdoor rinks?

Charlie said, “Outdoor ice, yeah. And the guys would come out, the municipal workers would come out and flood every night. They were illuminated, and we could play all the time unless there was a thaw. It was great. That’s where we learned our skills.”

As we chat after his Tuesday morning game, comedian and AMHL mainstay Chris Howell interrupts us. “I just want to say that Charles Bradley is probably the biggest liar I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks a lot, Donut Boy,” Charlie replied, enjoying the friendly exchange.

After Donut Boy exited, I asked Bradley if he had aspirations of playing junior hockey.

Loyola High School, he said. "Pretty high-level hockey.”

The Jesuit-run school, created for English-speaking Catholics in the Côte-Des-Neiges—Notre-Dame-De-Grâce neighborhood of Montreal, resides on Rue Sherbrooke and is contained by Concordia University, a few blocks west of Parc Loyola.

Charlie wore the school’s maroon and white sweater.

“We did tournaments, and we were usually the champions or near the top in the Montreal league,” he said as the Zamboni did its thing around the Valley Sports rink. “And we had our rink, so that helped a lot. We skated every day. We skated probably about seven to ten hours a week. It was good for skills as well.”

After high school, though, hockey took a back seat to professional studies. He graduated from The University of Guelph Ontario Veterinary College and then worked at dozens of practices in the next almost twenty years, travelling from Ontario to New Hampshire and Massachusetts.

He found his way back to hockey, though. In 2000 or 2001, Charlie says that after learning of the AMHL at a Valley Sports Stick Time session on a Friday afternoon, he registered to play.

“I was really surprised at the level of hockey,” he said. “This is a nice league because, the difference to me, other than the time, is that everyone plays hockey for the fun of it. They don’t take it too seriously. That was a real put-off for me when guys were getting really really serious, competitive, and angry at each other, smashing each other and holding grudges. We don’t see that in this league. And the idea of rotating the teams through is really good. Having the time after for the CAM-uh-rah-duh-rie and fellowship, that makes it really good.”

But financial struggles—tough to earn find stability in a veterinary market where clinic ownership can change hands— took him away from his passions: taking care of cats and dogs and playing hockey. He dabbled in local home renovation, but that endeavor never took off. He and his family decided to move to Ontario in 2009.

Upon learning of the move across the 49^th Parallel, AMHLers expressed their respect for Charlie by email.

“On behalf of all the AMHL officials, we would like to extend our best wishes to Charlie and his family as they go back to the mother country. Bradley was a great competitor and statesman from Canada and will be missed,” wrote Referee Peter Bagley.

Terry Loebs: “I will remember Charles Bradley as the most accomplished backchecking defenseman in AMHL history, and the all-time leader in evoking the same question ("Is that guy playing 'D' or forward?") among AMHL newbies. Good luck, Charles (eh?)”

Mike Schneider wrote, “Nicest guy off the ice. On the ice? Tenacious, quick, strong. A beast on defense. The kind of guy you fear going towards or fear may be on your heels. If you beat Charles, you know you played your best.”

Now, Bradley is back in business and back in the game. At the Dunkin’ Donuts in West Concord, he’s his same old amiable self as he sits at the table next to my wife and me. Caring to the core about pets and humans alike, Charles Bradley listens to my wife describe my ongoing injury saga and makes a suggestion or two from his own experience as a hockey player and animal doctor. (You’ve probably seen the bumper sticker, “Be kind to animals. Hug a hockey player.” Right?)

Stop by Domino Veterinary Hospital (DVH), Charlie says, I’ll give you a brochure for the doctor that fixed my wrist.

He stands up to get in line for his coffee as my wife and I prepare to leave. 

(To be continued)

Meet Monika Moravan, Part II: A Hockey-hater, the NHL Lockout, and Hockey Movies

In Part I, I introduced you to the hockey writer, editor, and researcher who served as ghostwriter for CONCUSSED! Topics included the book, violence in hockey, and of course, donuts. I now present Part II:

The Non-hockey Husband

 

MM: Yes, my spousal unit hates hockey and is not a sports fan at all. Our son, however, is normal. He's a great kid, takes it all in stride and understands some activities are Mum things, some are Dad things, and some are family things. It used to bother him much more when he was younger but closing in on 14, not so much.

It’s funny because (my husband) remembers as a kid sitting on his grandmother’s lap: His grandmother loved hockey; she emigrated from Scotland. She loved the game, would watch it every single Saturday night. And I don’t know…he grew to hate it. I never understood why and neither does he. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t even go to our son’s hockey games, which is kind of funny. At first it was kind of annoying, but now…you do other stuff with your kids.

NHL Lockout

MM: In all honesty, I'm not sitting around lamenting the lockout. There is plenty of hockey to watch if we wish, and if not, it has freed up a significant amount of time to spend with family, friends or staring off into space thinking. It's liberating to have the option of dating my husband any night of the week!

JD: I’ve moved on. It’s like the boyfriend or girlfriend who left you and now wants you back. Not sure if I’ll be that interested in watching or going to games.

MM: Exactly. That’s what it is. If you see them on the street you’ll hopefully be polite about it… In my case I know when the NHL comes back, I’ll watch…There are the diehards, but most people are now starting to realize, ‘Okay instead of going to a game, we can spend our money to go out to the restaurant next to the rink.’ Go do that kind of stuff because there is a lot of empathy for those working the minimum wage jobs and all that. My niece, during last lockout, was a waitress in a restaurant right by Air Canada Centre. And (the lockout) really hurts those bottom lines more than anything else…

Hockey: Actors and Movies

JD: Matthew Perry.

MM: I wasn’t a big fan of Friends…I haven’t seen (GoOn).

JD: He’s a big Kings fan, and his character is a radio guy in Los Angeles…there’s one episode where he’s playing pickup shinny against Jeremy Roenick.

MM: Slap Shot was on last night, and I fell asleep.

JD: I haven’t watched that in years. I’m more of a 13 Going on 30 fan.

MM: I will always have my soft spot for Youngblood. Definitely not one of the best movies out there, but it features my baby in there (Peter Zezel, not Rob Lowe). It is a must watch.

Can/Am Relations

MM: Educating Americans about Canada is important to me. On a high school trip to Manhattan, we convinced a few that there was a housing crisis because rising temperatures were melting our igloos.

JD: You sound like a female version of Rick Mercer. I hope Canadians have stopped pummeling those poor moose with Timbits.

MM: A female Rick Mercer? Now my head's gonna asplode! Thanks; as a comedy student and (occasional) performer that is high praise indeed.

More about Can/Am relations at the Canadian Spy site.

Toronto Entertainment Mashup: Eddie Shack/Bruce Bell

Clear the Track/A Story to Tell/Here Comes Shack/Ring the Bell

Eddie Shack, whose antics prompted Douglas Rankine and the Secrets to sing about the beloved Toronto Maple Leaf, and Bruce Bell, Toronto’s accredited his-storyteller: Their paths originate in Sudbury, ON and their passions converge.

Shack, born in 1937—eighteen years before Bell—left his hometown for Guelph, where he played for the Biltimores in the Ontario Hockey League. In 1957, he graduated from the OHL to the American Hockey League to perform for the Providence Reds. A year later, he ascended to the Show, as he joined the New York Rangers. Shack then took his hockey shtick and continued his tour with other NHL and minor-league teams including the Maple Leafs, Rochester Americans, Boston Bruins, Los Angeles Kings, Buffalo Sabres, and Pittsburgh Penguins. In 1973, he returned to Toronto. 

The same year that Shack rejoined the Leafs, Bruce Bell left Sudbury straight for the 416. A comedian, actor, and playwright, Bell toiled in the proverbial minor leagues of show business, in Toronto’s entertainment district. Never amassing a fortune yet enjoying the gigs, Bell realized that his reputation as a top-tier Toronto performer was taking root. 

Eddie “the Entertainer” played two seasons in the Leafs organization to end his hockey career. Although retired from the NHL, Shack turned to acting. He starred in TV commercials for the Pop Shoppe beverage brand and performed in a Schick razor promotion; the first star of that stunt was Shack’s massive moustache—shaved clean from his face. He let it grow back, of course, and continued his career in hockey show business. The four-time NHL All-star was often a fan favourite at NHL Alumni games. 

Meanwhile, Bell’s interest in continuing his diversified entertainment career waned. Oh, he still loved to perform, to tell stories. He merged his zest for entertaining with his love for Toronto—its history and architecture, its character and characters—and, in 2000, he incorporated Bruce Bell Tours. In 2004, he was appointed the honourary historian of the Hockey Hall of Fame Heritage Building.

Shack, who won four Stanley Cups with the Leafs, is not a member of the HHOF, but he still calls Toronto home. He still wears his Maple Leaf jacket as he walks through the St. Lawrence Neighbourhood where Bruce Bell conducts his one-of-a-kind tours.

update: June 18, 2012
Bruce Bell is the honourary historian of the Hockey Hall of Fame Heritage Building, not the Hockey Hall of Fame, as orginally posted. I apologize for the error.

Pucks and Panko: Hockey (and Donuts) in the Pacific Rim

February 12, 2012

Konnichiwa hockey fans.

While many Canadians celebrate Hockey Day in Canada—the World Pond Hockey Championships in New Brunswick and CBC broadcasts from Prince Edward Island—in the Great White North, ex-pat Jay La Morre lives the hockey (and donut) dream in Chiba, Japan as his line scores four goals (even though his team lost).

Win or lose, La Morre loves the game as much or more as when he was a kid.

A Ken Dryden fan who grew up in Toronto and who says via email that he was “brainwashed into liking a losing team at an early age,” visited Japan in 1986 and then again in ‘87 because his father was living there. A year later, the young man who as a second grader in 1972 had watched the Summit Series with his classmates, moved to Japan. He planned to stay only a few years.

“And here I am, still here with one wife and two kids,” says the forty-something and commercial success.

In a country where hockey had yet to find a foothold, La Morre missed the action. “Thought I'd never play again,” he says, “but met a guy who is an ice hockey guy and I started again in 1998.”

Fourteen years later, he has encountered players who have grown to love the game as much as he does. La Morre, who is a twenty-minute trip away from Aquarink Chiba, says that although he speaks Japanese well enough, he and other English-speakers have concocted anglicized nicknames for other players.

“Grampa Hockey” is one such character. La Morre says of the old-timer who has since passed away, “He would come to the rink on his bike with all the gear and the coolest thing was his little radio he had in the carrier on the front. All decked out for AM radio sounds for the ride home.

“Another very interesting fellow is a relatively new guy, Kats B! Believe it or not, he is Kenyan. Educated at some of the very best schools in England and the USA. Extremely bright guy. He took up hockey less than a year ago and is starting to get somewhat good at it considering he's been skating for less than a year. He counts the amount of times he's been out to hockey. He's up to over 30 now!”

Like Kats B (the roots of his nickname perhaps a story for another day), Japanese players tend to become obsessed with hockey. La Morre says, “In case you didn't know when a person in Japan is involved with some kind of hobby, sport or whatever, that's all they do. Put a lot of time and effort into it and get really good at it.”

The better players might earn a tryout with the amateur Tokyo Canadians, or in the professional Asia League Ice Hockey. Most players like La Morre, however, won’t be recruited by the Nikko Ice Bucks and won’t likely become the next Gordie “Hockey-san” Howe or Takahito Suzuki.

Those who play are passionate, of course. But, says La Morre, hockey is still a minor sport in Japan.

The game we love doesn’t even receive honourable mention at Wikipedia’s page about Japan, and pucksters play in but half-dozen or so indoor venues.

Donuts shops are more prevalent than ice surfaces. The circular confections are almost as popular as panko or sake. Although Mister Donut (and to a lesser extent, Dunkin’ Donuts) are alive and well in Japan, Krispy Kreme is king.

“When they opened here about five years ago,” LaMorre says (and he swears he’s not kidding), “people would line up for hours to buy them. Mostly ladies, young ones. Japanese women get really excited about cake and sweet stuff!!” He adds that the Japanese word for “donut” is donut.

According to Google Translate, the same goes for hockey.

Hockey and donuts: No matter the language we use to identify them, or wherever they’re played or served—Plaster Rock or Charlottetown, Chiba or Edogawa—they make us happy.

Commemorating Cooperation and Compassion: 9/11 and Beyond

As the U.S. honours loved ones lost on this date ten years ago, I keep close to my heart heroes on both sides of the 49th Parallel.

An except from AMHL Glory:

Presidents and prime ministers will come and go, so I’m talking about the residual, ordinary citizens in the U.S. and Canada who’ve done extraordinary things to extend goodwill beyond geographical borders.

Read the entire posting at the Canadian Spy site.

Sharing the Hockey Spirit, Part II: "Alberta Bound"



Courtesy of Hockey Spirit Fundraising Calendars

 (Cont'd from Part I)

I’m Alberta Bound/This piece of heaven that I’ve found/
Rocky Mountains and black fertile ground

Everything I need beneath that big blue sky/Doesn’t matter where I go/
This place will always be my home

-Paul Brandt, “Alberta Bound”

As Brian and Elizabeth Urlacher—the king and queen of hockey calendars—watch the Stanley Cup Finals, they must realize that The Most Coveted Cup is Alberta bound. Will Mason Raymond, the Canuck from Cochrane, AB and teammate Jeff Tambellini, the kid from Calgary, hold high the shiny silver chalice beneath Brandt’s big blue sky? Or will it be Bruins Johnny Boychuk and Andrew Ference—both from Edmonton—that do the honors?

The Canucks lead the series 2–0, and Red Deer’s royalty seem conflicted about their loyalty: Elizabeth, whose favourite donut at Tim Hortons is the Boston Cream (renamed, at least temporarily, to the Vancouver Cream), writes, “…Andrew Ference–our Alberta boy! That’s top-shelf reason enough for us to be thrilled to see the Bruins win. We also hold tight to all things Canucks…Go Canada Go! This is a unique playoff series because we’re going to be stoked for who ever wins! It’s nice to be in such a friendly cheering position.”


A week later, and a day before Game Six in Boston, the Canucks up 3–2, the Urlachers call to clarify their written comments. Elizabeth says, “I’m gonna answer for myself, Brian (who then laughs). My loyalties always go to first of all, to our closest team. My second thought on that is if that if by chance the Bruins win, that I’d be so happy for my friend, Barry Wheeler in Corner Brook, Newfounldand that that’s just great too.”

Canuck goalie Roberto Luongo's home and away ups and downs, she says, as well as the see-saw victory pattern, have contributed to the saga of this Stanley Cup finals.

The queen yields to her husband, who says, “I’m Vancouver all the way. Boston’s won a Stanley Cup before; Vancouver’s never won one.” The king continues, “I can’t believe how bad (the Canucks) have played in Boston.”

“That’s why it’s a saga, Brian,” Elizabeth says.

“I think it’s going to go seven games,” he concludes.


Now, three and a half weeks after the Bruins conquered the Canucks, Boychuk and Ference plan for their day (sometime in August) with the sporting world’s most celebrated thirty-four-and-half-pound trophy.

And the Urlachers have resumed their routine: A stop at Timmys, where Elizabeth orders her Boston/Vancouver Cream and Brian buys a Honey Cruller; designing and producing the fifteen-month calendars, which hockey organizations will sell to raise funds for their programs; and perhaps listening to a country tune. All this as couple anticipates the Stanley Cup’s trip to the province famous for those heavenly Rocky Mountains, Chinook winds, and Paul Brandt. Alberta: the place the king and queen of calendars call home.

2010 Top Twelve Highlights

2010 was filled with more ups and downs than a dozen Duncan Yo-Yos. The passing of my Uncle Dan “Santa Claus” Dwyer, the Bruins playoff loss to Philadelphia, and my Uncle Jack’s recent reunion with Uncle Dan have aided and abetted many of my anxieties. To ward off these and other worries, I now present the highlights, a baker’s dozen in quasi-chronological order:

Winter Classic in Boston
Marco Sturm’s upraised arms as he celebrates his game-winning goal against the Flyers, at Fenway Park. We’ll miss you, Marco. Best of luck with the Kings.

Hole in One Donuts
Lights, camera, donuts. Big and bold on the beach, these all-stars made their short movie debut. The sandy stars were sacrificed for art’s sake (order your 2010 donut calendar by contacting the AMHL photographer via the AMHL Shutterfly site), but the others were plain perfect for the taste buds.

The Tooth Fairy
For some, this flick was too much tutu, not enough (Jordin)Tootoo But I enjoyed it. Then again, I watch Oprah. And listen to Celine Dion.

AMHL Old Home Week
Hanging out with my hockey pals, many of whom I hadn’t seen or with whom I hadn’t spoken in months, made my week.

Hershey Hockey
Mr. Hockey was in town for his annual visit, which often includes a road trip. A couple years ago my dad, my wife, and I drove to Lake Placid, but this fall pilgrimage was to Chocolate Town, PA. The two games we attended were fulfilling—but not as much as the trolley tour, where the punny business proprietors dispensed not only their wry humor but also Hershey Hugs and Kisses.

Molasses Donuts
The Inn Victoria (Chester VT) doesn’t feature the delectable circular concoctions all the time, but ask Proprietor Penelope and she’s apt to appease your appetite. The Willow Bake Shoppe (Rockport, ME), in business since 1949, does deliver the much munched Molasses Donut every day (open mornings only). Asked about the secret to the shoppe’s success, Proprietor Patti replied, “Everybody loves donuts and the recipe is old.”

Hockey (and Donut) Books
Slap Shot Original, Time to Make the Donuts, King Leary, and Don Messer: The Man Behind the Music top my list. Hockey fans know about all about the Hanson Brothers’ exploits in the hallmark of hockey movies and will relish Dave Hanson’s behind-the-scenes anecdotes. Time to Make the Donuts, the birth of Dunkin’ Donuts Nation and the brand’s ascension into the pastry pantheon—as chronicled by DD’s father, William Rosenberg with help from Jessica Keener—is a must-read for not only donut lovers but also entrepreneur types. King Leary, a hockey novel, is flat-out the funniest book I’ve read this year. A whirligig of a read, it’s best enjoyed with a glass of your favourite ginger ale. And whether you're a fiddle fan or not—and I am—learning about Mr. Messer's masterful marketing strategy and tactics was worth the read.

Hockey Videos
Timmy Thomas’s big-time save against the Toronto Maple Leafs: The save speaks for itself, but focus on the fans who stand and then slump back into their seats. And in case you’ve been living in a snow cave, or mayhap want to revive that holiday spirit, here’s an encore performance of “All I Want for Christmas” as performed by the Belfast Giants.

First French Hockey Story
Someday (when I make the corrections) I’ll share the full story about a trip to Le Quartier Nord, but for now I’m savoring the time spent in Boston’s North End and my teacher telling me that I’m an over-achiever. (The class resumes in late January but only if we have enough matriculators. Under-achiever, over-achiever, or just want to learn how to communicate with Les Québécois, please learn more about the Concord-Carlisle Community Education class, course #3391.)

Hockey on the Radio
Two kinds of people in the world: those who love Jack Edwards and those who mute the TV when he’s on. I love his passion and his bantor with Andy Brickley, but sometimes I change the lines, as it were in hockey parlance, so that I can listen to the action—“left to right across (my) radio” according to Dave Goucher and Bob Beers. Another dandy duo is Hardy and Trupiano. The former infuses Ultimate Frisbee references into the repartee; the latter tells great Gordie Howe stories.

St. Andrews, New Brunswick
Two trips in 2010: The first in the summer when the AMHL Photographer departed for a two-hour tour of the Bay of Fundy. While she was aboard the Zodiac Hurricane, I sat seaside at the Hungry Whale Café and comforted myself with a St.-Viateur Bagle. (Caution: The owner’s allegiance is to le bleu, blanc et rouge). The second trip, last week, was heavenly…Espionage in St. John…Honeybeans for an afternoon snack…Old Tyme Pizza for dinner…Christmas lights on the wharf…the walk back to the safehouse, as we admired the brilliance of Orion’s Belt…Canadaaaah.

Friday Skates
In July, I skated three times—a grand total of less than hour—as the AMHL Hawks, Kings, Stars, and Whalers dressed for their games. Two months after the surgery to repair the direct hernia surgery, I was still wobbly and weak but budding with confidence as I rounded Rink Two. But a few days later, at my next PT session, my right knee buckled. I limped into the chiropractor’s office with a brace on my knee and then—thanks to Dr. Jamal De Vita—walked out of the office carrying that brace in my hand.

AMHL Comebacks
“Here I come, baby,” Brent Delehey, who had been out action for a few months, said as the Big Bad Bruin hunted his opponent in last week's AMHL Thursday Championship. Brent was gleeful to be playing again—ditto for John Bionelli and Scott Gelin. As for me, I’m more centered, more balanced, and (despite the pain my surgeon said is to be expected) back at PT. I hope to be playing again this spring.

Happy Thanksgiving: A Propos de Moi

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving, Canadian style. I’m grateful for so much, like a great chiropractor, the opportunity to write, and a talent for learning languages—first Spanish, and now French. The study of the latter is an effort to replace, or at least abate, my fear of perhaps not playing hockey again.

Below is an excerpt of my first assignment "en la cours de français," my first foray into introducing myself to francophones.

Salut, mes amis. Je m’appelle Jim, mais ma famille et mes amis de hockey m’appellent Jimmy. Tout le monde pense que je suis Canadien. Je viens de Colorado—ou trois de mes quatre frères et mon papa habitent—mais je habite avec ma femme à Maynard. Je étudie le français parce que deux de mes amis de hockey parlent français, j’aime bien la musique de Céline Dion, y parce que ma femme et moi voyageons souvent a Canada. Nous adorons la Ville de Québec. Nous ne somme pas fans de l’équipe de hockey de Montréal, mais j’aime bien Patrice Bergeron, qui vient de Québec et qui joue pour les Bruins de Boston. Nous aimons les Bruins et le entraîneur, Claude Julien.

J’adore aussi lire les livres de Jacques Falla, Frank Delaney et George Plimpton; écouter et chanter la musique de les artistes canadiens comment Great Big Sea, Bryan Adams, y Les Ténors Canadiens; manger les beignes les démanche; et écrire de tout ces expériences.

Un de ces jours j’aimerais publier mon mémoire, Gloire AMHL: Une Passion pour le Hockey du Matin (et Beignes); écrire autres livres, et voyager à Nouveau Zélande—bien que ils ne pas parlent français allé.

Doozies, Don’ts, and Donuts

The 2010 Olympic Games in Vancouver—and Canada itself—have owned the international spotlight, so I’ve been spying on our northerly neighbor and posting my observations—from Eh to Zed—about this Olympiad at Canadianspy.blogspot.com.

Back here in Boston, I haven’t lost sight of our Bruins. While many citizens of Bruins Nation were clamoring for Ilya Kovalchuk, I anointed myself to special advisor status and posted my plea for patience—don’t sell the farm—at Hockeybarn.com.

From the Olympics and the NHL to the AMHL …A stick salute to Mike “the Eagle” Chase. February 9th marked the one-year anniversary of our AMHL friend’s death. Mikey has surely graduated from our dimly-lit arena to the bright lights of heaven, where you can play hockey whenever you want and nobody nabs the last Boston Kreme.

Happy 60th birthday to Dunkin’ Donuts. To celebrate the accomplishment, Dunkin’ Donuts has resurrected its Donut Contest. Last year’s winning entry, “Coffee for Your Toffee”, will be succeeded by…well, maybe this is the year for the Sour Cream Sunrise. Rather thin pin my hopes to one donut entry, I’m diversifying my donut portfolio and will soon divulge the names of the half dozen doozies I’m developing. Deadline for throwing my donuts into the ring is March 8th, so stay tuned for details.

For those of you who’ve followed the Humpty Dumpty (Sports) Hernia saga, I have an update: Sports hernias don’t appear on MRIs. This I learned from Dr. Brian Busconi, a former Harvard hockey player and a pioneer in diagnosing and treating what he referred to as injuries more commonly found in “mature athletes” like me. Surgery (not yet sure if it will be a deep dive or laparoscopy) is in my near future, but I hope to return to AMHL ice this summer.

Meanwhile, our little donut league is going strong. “Mighty Mike” Edwards has returned from knee surgery, and his Leafs are 6–2. On Wednesdays, Port Huron’s pride and joy, Mike Seeley—who was last seen pushing pedals in Portugal—has returned to the AMHL; the nimble defenseman took a turn in nets and earned a shutout (or so it was recorded at AMHL.com, but Seeley says by e-mail, “Someone thumbed a key when entering stats...I ain't never been between da pipes.”

Not ready for nets to not ready for the AMHL…These bears are probably not ready for the AMHL, but you don’t want to miss this grizzly spectacle.

And now back to the Olympics… I tossed my first few stones. That’s right, I curled for the first time. It was online, of course, (Bostonians who want the real deal: Visit Broomstones.com) but I still got to use a broom. I started off strong, but in the end (I only played one), I lost 0–3.

Finally, I know some readers are wondering who I’m rooting for in today’s gold medal hockey game. I can’t tell you because I don’t know. Not yet. More on that later.

National Donut Day, Part II: Confusion, Conflict, and More Questions

My question from Part I, “What donut does it for you” sparked confusion and conflict, passion and pride.

AMHL goalie Steve Scansaroli at first misinterpreted the question as “What does the donut do to you?” to which Scans replied by e-mail, “The donut keeps me fat and thus covering more of the net.” Like any good goaltender, he quickly repositioned himself by responding that he’s a “Boston Kreme man.”

Scans’ good friend and fellow goalie, Kenny Tarr is an equal opportunist when it comes donut loyalty. Kenny replied, “Me…well, if it’s a donut - I love it :). But I definitely have a craving for anything sourdough... Kids love the butternuts I bring home after the AM games.”

Other donut fans were also open-minded, if not conflicted. Dana Salvo, who leads the AMHL in career points, also leads the league in longest donut discourse category. The first of his 139 words was, “I've gotta be honest... it really depends on the day.” His regular options at the rink, such Dunkin’ Donuts’ Chocolate Glazed, Chocolate Frosted, and Glazed Munchkins are all on Dana’s preferred donut list. Salvo also enjoys seasonal favorites like the Maple Frosted, and Manager’s Specials, like lemon-filled lip-smackers. But when he’s in the mood for the Glazed, he’s often disappointed. Salvo wrote, “It’s too bad that we don't get those at the rink very often, if at all. Very sad.”

Salvo was sad; Chris “Donut Boy” Howell was mad. He still pines for the defunct Dunkin’ donut—he is so passionate about the Old Fashioned with a nub—and wondered why the supplier of AMHL post-game fare ditched the namesake donut. He concluded his written commentary, “It would be as if KFC stopped serving fried chicken.”

Howell was not the only hockey (and donut) aficionado to be proud of his donut. Steve Nicolle (see comments below) and Michael Dyck, (“If a hockey player really knows hockey there is no substitute (for Tim Hortons’ Double Chocolate).”

Others provided short and sweet answers like “chocolate donuts are my favorite” or “Chocolate frosted with sprinkles - preferably lots and lots of sprinkles! :).”

Honorable Mention:

Jelly Filled: 2
Butternut (a.k.a. Butter Crunch): 2 adults (and Kenny’s kids)
Chocolate Frosted: 1

Dishonorable Mention:

Krispy Kreme: 1


But back to chocolate, which appears to be the fan favorite, because 53% included that ingredient as necessary for a divine donut experience.

The biggest winner of all—not in my unofficial survey but rather at Dunkin’ Donut headquarters—was a non-chocolate donut, the “Toffee for Your Coffee”. Jeff Hager’s creation, which is a sour cream cake donut topped with chopped Heath® Bar, won the “Create Dunkin’s Next Donut” contest.

This choice raises other questions. Will Kenny Tarr tolerate the toffee on his sourdough donut? And what do you think of the new donut? Please let me know this fall, when the donut will make its debut at your nearest Dunkin’ Donuts.

Honoring the Father of Hockey

This post was contributed by Holly McCarthy, who writes for the Sports Management College. She invites your feedback at hollymccarthy12 at gmail dot com.

Honoring the Father of Hockey

Have you heard of James Creighton? Well if you haven't, you need to brush up on your hockey history. After all, Creighton is the man credited for spreading hockey across Canada in the 1800s. Now folks in Ottawa (where Creighton is buried) want to raise the funds to erect a monument to mark the currently-unmarked grave of one of Canada's most famous "forefathers."

The Ottawa hockey history buffs pushing for the monument are doing it alone. Prime Minister Stephen Harper has given his endorsement of the project. They have been granted permission to erect a memorial at Ottawa's Beechwood Cemetery.

The group needs more than permission, however. They are several thousand dollars short of the money they need to buy the grave marker for Creighton. No one is looking for anything extravagant. The Society for International Hockey Research (SIHR) says it would just like a small marker that includes his birth and death dates, a line about his role in the history of hockey, and two crossed hockey sticks.

You may be wondering how this could have happened to someone as important to the cultural fabric of Canada as Creighton.

Well, it seems his wife died one week before he did, and the couple had no children. So, after his death in Ottawa in 1930, there was no one to place a grave stone.

Conversely, in Lawrence, Kansas, there's a huge memorial dedicated to James Naismith, the Canadian-born inventor of basketball, who died in 1939 and who is buried nearby. Naismith’s grave is surrounded by a dozen stone benches, and there is a tall monument with a plaque. There is also a life-sized statue of Naismith. It's not what most would call modest.

Creighton was born in Halifax in 1850 and played in the world's first indoor hockey match, held in Montreal in March 1875. He later developed the sport's official rules and was single-handedly responsible for spreading the game across Canada and introducing it to everyone along the way.

The guy deserves a memorial so the world knows he was here.

SIHR is taking donations with the ambitious goal of having something in place before the end of 2009.

AMHL Wednesday: French Connection

February 18, 2009
Concord, MA

“Sheel-BEAR,” I say to Gil Cote, who’s skating toward the bench, which has been my coaching perch for the last six weeks.

“Ça va?” the Shark defenseman asks me.

“Ça va,” I reply.

It—our season—is going well. We’re undefeated heading into this morning’s tilt against Les Habitants.

We’re tied 1–1 in the first period—Sharks skating left to right across your AMHL audio device—when Gil embarks on a partial breakaway. He’s just left of center and making a beeline for the goalie. A right-handed shooter, Cote sells the forehand—and then roofs a backhander, à la David Krejci’s goal last night for the Boston Bruins.

But Gil’s primary contribution this season has been his solid defense: blocking shots and swatting pucks clear of opponents’ sticks. In the second period, Cote skates backwards into the near circle. He waits for the stickhandler to approach and then, with Gil’s left hand on the top of his own stick, sweeps left to dislodge the puck from the confounded Canadien.

In the third period, the Bleu, Blanc, et Rouge score two goals in the final few minutes, but by then Cote and company have already scored five.

After the 5–3 victory and then the post-game discussion (and half a bagel), I follow Paul Anastas (my chauffer) to the parking lot. I look right and notice a player whose name I don’t know and with whom I’ve never spoken.

“Are you Canadian?” I ask the man of slender build and who’s wearing sleek eyeglasses.

Marc Valle says he is from Montreal. He’s a little hobbled from a puck that struck him in the foot. Excellent, another shot-blocker.

I hand him my business card (which my wife/AMHL Photographer designed: a donut pictured above text describing me as a hockey player and creative thinker) and then walk toward my chauffeur’s vehicle.

I knew he was Canadian, I say to Paul, and then wonder out loud if AMHL management might someday pair Gil Cote and Marc Valle (and a player to be named later: Rick Martin or Rene Robert?) to create our own version of the French Connection.

On the Shelf, Part VIII: Good Stuff

Image courtesy of Joe Fletcher

The saga of my mysterious upper lower-body/middle lower-body injury continues. Physical therapy didn’t do the trick, so it’s back to the doctor for a re-evaluation tomorrow. It’s a downer not playing—and worse, the not knowing what’s wrong or when I’ll be back—but Don Cherry’s Hockey Stories and Stuff has been a pick-me-up difficult to put down.

If Gordie Howe, who will turn 81 on March 31, is Mr. Hockey®, then Don Cherry, who celebrated his 75th birthday on Thursday, is Mr. Hockey Storyteller. In his book, as told to Al Strachan, “Grapes” delivers page after page of vintage vignettes, which he draws from his vast experience as a player, coach, and commentator.

Cherry’s down-to-earth delivery transported me to wherever he ventured: on the ice, on the road, and into the announcer booth. I had figured he’d include stuff about the Bruins; that he’d share nuggets about my beloved Colorado Rockies; and that he’d take me behind the scenes of Hockey Night in Canada. Cherry didn’t disappoint.

With his trademark brashness, that blunt-force honesty—that which people tend to love or loathe—Cherry sometimes made me wince. But more often than not, I either laughed (picture this: Wayne Gretzky in long—presumably—underwear) or felt a fondness for the flashy haberdasher’s delight. Cherry admits his mistakes and becomes vulnerable. This softer side shushes his insolence.

The most endearing anecdote, for me, was not about Bobby Orr or Barry Beck, but rather about his bull terrier. “Blue and I had a favourite song,” Cherry begins the tale.

I’ll let you discover for yourself what that song is and hope that you’ll find Cherry’s yarns as engaging as I did.

Thumbs up, Grapes. Good stuff.

Hockey Sunday: Around the (Boston) Globe

A trip around Sunday’s Boston Globe, which the AMHL Photographer and I read during our visits to Dunkin’ Donuts, revealed plenty of news about hockey and Canada—and it wasn’t all in the sports section.

In travel, Diane Daniel (her column is titled “Where They Went”) profiles two friends who, in July, visited Nova Scotia. While on Cape Breton, the twosome stayed at the Keltic Lodge Resort. My wife and I have never stayed there, so I can’t recommend it. But we could see the resort from the Castle Rock Country Inn, which we visited in 2001. At Avalon the restaurant, which operates from the inn, order whatever you want for dinner as long as it’s preceded by the Caesar salad and followed by the cheesecake. On par with the victuals, at least in spring and summer, are the benevolent breezes, which keep away the mosquitoes from the bay (night or day).

In comics, Bill Amend’s FoxTrot captured my attention. Two skaters had painted jagged blue “cracks” in the ice to dissuade others from joining the duo. Clever. But because a few people in Massachusetts at least, have fallen through fragile ice, I recommend you stay off the ponds (unless it’s Frog Pond, which you can rent on Monday nights) for a few more weeks.

GlobeWest hosts a weekly contest, whereby readers submit captions for a cartoon. The winner in Sunday’s paper had entered this caption: “Aw, geez, who gave Cheevers a chain saw” to accompany the illustration of a man wearing an old-time goalie mask while he sculpts a six-foot high block of ice.

Back to sports...According to Kevin Paul Dupont’s article in the Boston Globe archives, current B’s management gave Cheesy, the B’s former Hall of Fame netminder and most recently pro scout, the axe in 2006.

2008: Reflections from Donut Land

Here in Donut Land, we reflect on the Top Twelve (not the Top Ten) memories from 2008.

1. My 2008 donut calendar: the first of every month was like Christmas Day
2. Bruins vs. Canadiens, Game Six: “This building is vibrating.” (Jack Edwards)
3. AMHL Tuesday: Dual Shutout
4. High Altitude Training in Jackson Hole, WY
5. AMHL Wednesday: Sharks vs. Canadiens
6. October in Ottawa
7. Reconnecting with the Rockies: Krazy George, Wilf Paiement, and Joe Fletcher
8. AMHL Thursday: Coaching the “Red Army” Team
9. Barry Manilow moment on the New England Hockey Journal Radio Show (NEHJRS)
10. Eric “Danke” Schoen: 1000 career points and an AMHL championship
11. The Bruins’ current 9-game winning streak: longest since 1982
12. My new bookshelf: filled with three dozen or so books about hockey (and donuts)

And a half-dozen of what and who to watch, wait, and hope for in 2009:

1. Blake Wheeler: The Calder Trophy candidate (leads all rookies in goals and plus/minus)
2. Mattias Borman: the Super Swede may lead the FCAHA in scoring
3. A special guest appearance on the NEHJRS by “Jimmy from Maynard”
4. An AMHL Glory update
5. A Stanley Cup in Boston
6. Miracles for *Mike Chase: Keep the faith, buddy.

*Please contact me if you'd like to make a donation

On the Shelf, Part VI: Quotable Quotes and Open Ice

“He who learns must suffer.”
-Aeschylus

The nexus of my adductor longus and iliopsoas was on the mend. Nearly three months after tearing those muscles, I resumed skating, at least in pre-game warm-ups; I could feel the improvement from week to week as I anticipated an early-December return to the Capitals’ roster. But now, the injury may be getting worse. Maybe it was last week’s violent sneezes (coupled with my predisposition for delayed reaction) that has caused an intermittent searing sensation in the damaged area. Whatever the cause, I’ll be on the shelf for who knows how long. My hopes for a return this season have vanished, but I’m confident this unexpected and prolonged absence will enlighten me as much as I’m hopeful the following review will prod you to purchase the book.

Open Ice
by Jack Falla

Falla was a master at connecting the dots, those seemingly so-far-away quotes—from Aeschylus to Emerson—to poignant points in his own life. From “A Death in Montreal”, where Falla found solace in Emerson’s thoughts about other men, lenses, and reading our minds, to “Goodbye to the Backyard Rink?”, where the self-proclaimed “hockey lifer” juxtaposed Jewett’s comments about chapter endings, Open Ice has become a posthumous farewell to all those who love hockey as much as the author did and—I believe—still does.

“I kept thinking about religion, death and the possibility of an afterlife…,” Falla wrote, in “Requiem for the Cucumber”, about his road trip from Chicoutimi (where cool as a you-know-what George Vezina is buried) to Quebec City (where Falla felt connected to his forebears).

Falla, of French Canadian heritage and a former amateur netminder, chronicled his evolving connection to the namesake for the trophy awarded to the NHL’s finest goalie; describes the rise and fall—and rebirth—of a “particular subspecies of the genus hockey player” in “The Rink Rat”; and finds strength by learning to let go of his home ice in “Goodbye to the Backyard Rink?”

As I recount my reading of Falla’s gracious revelations, I think of the quote that he employed—this one to enrich his respect for hockey’s greatest amateur player in “Searching for Hobey Baker”—as it relates to Falla himself.

“His nature is too noble for this world.”-Coriolanus, by William Shakespeare

On the Shelf, Part V: Just in Time

“…Nothing hurting. Nothing sore. No one suffers anymore. The doctor’s found a simple cure. Just in time.”

-“When I am I King”
Great Big Sea

I miss playing hockey but am trying to count my blessings. The hockey and donut gods (I bet at least fifty percent live in Canada) have followed me more closely than they usually do, perhaps because the lower body injury I incurred six weeks ago is taking its own sweet time in healing. The deities haven’t cured my torn and tender iliopsoas but have delivered other extraordinary gifts.

On October 4th, the AMHL Photographer (a.k.a. my wife) and I watched the Bruins lose to the Islanders, and then we took the Green Line to the Theater District. We went to a comedy show, and a donut fight broke out. Almost. The warm-up dude (dude because he’s from California) for TV’s Craig Ferguson mentioned Krispy Kreme. I heard myself boo. And I wasn’t the only one. We caught him off guard, but the comedian recovered, joking that the audience was coming after him with “pitchforks and torches.”

On October 16th, Fort Collins’s Mr. Hockey (a.k.a. my dad) arrived from Colorado. The next morning, with my wife behind the wheel, we drove to Ottawa. We watched, from section 106, Row D (two rows behind the B’s bench) the Bruins beat the Senators, 4–2. The $176.00 (per seat) was a splurge but well worth it if only for providing a close-up view of Aaron Ward’s mouthpiece. After conducting extensive undercover ops, we returned to Boston—to watch a hockey game on October 20th.

The Bruins, in their home opener, would lose to the Penguins in a shootout, but to watch Mark Stuart during the pre-game ceremony was priceless. In numerical order, Bruin after Bruin heard his name announced and then glided to the blue line. Stuart, (Number 45) watched Aaron Ward (Number 44) embark for the blue line as Stuart waited for his turn. “Number 46, David Krejci.” Stuart, still waiting in the tunnel, shrugged his shoulders and then walked to the back of the line…“Number 91, Marc Savard.” Before the house lights came on and the smoke machine was dissembled, though, Stuart (unannounced) stepped on to the ice and raised his stick to acknowledge the cheering crowd. Then he joined his guffawing teammates.

My own teammates were in the locker room this Thursday morning when, for the first time in six weeks, I was on the ice, a stick in my hands and a helmet on my head. After a few tentative clockwise twirls around Rink Two and then a few counter-clock wise rings around the center face-off circle, I returned to the scene of my injury. Backwards, I crossed my left foot over my right and then vice-versa. No pain. I retrieved a puck, aimed for the seam in the boards, and then wristed a shot toward the target. Right on.

On Friday night, my wife and I and two non-hockey friends were at the Orpheum Theatre for a Great Big Sea show. We listened to front man Alan Doyle segue from one song to another. Boston is a great hockey town, he said, and “Helmethead” is a great hockey song.

“Helmethead,” “When I am King”…they’re Something Beautiful, and they came just in time. “Lucky Me.” Amen.

On the Shelf, Part IV: Midnight Hockey

Iliopsoas is a fickle muscle, difficult to spell and even more difficult to determine when it’s ready for real action. Yesterday, I rode the exercise bike and then stretched, but iliopsoas is not ready for ice time. So while I’m still on the shelf from my early morning hockey games (my Capitals are doing just fine without me), so I give to you this review: a book about hockey (and beer).

Midnight Hockey: all about BEER, the BOYS, and the REAL CANADIAN GAME
By Bill Gaston

Like slamming back a few cold ones without any intermissions, I drank in this book in one sitting. A few year ago and in the passenger seat while the AMHL Photographer drove from St. John’s to Channel-Port aux Basques, Newfoundland, I laughed often as I became drunk on hockey.

Beer is what Gaston says is one of the “seductions that make the return to the rink an annual rite.” His book, written in a refreshing steady stream of consciousness, is not only a collection of his hockey memories, like playing in France, China, and Japan, but also a venue for venting his thoughts on hockey. Gaston offers colorful takes on everything from nicknames (Gaston answers to “Thrasher” and “Gasser”) to teams’ names (one of his favorites is Friends of Jesus). Gasser does so in the context of what may be his last season of oldtimers hockey. The defenseman pops in some goals and pops some tops with his pals, and the reader is left with a fantastic hockey hangover.

If you’re a hockey player, this book belongs on your shelf.

AMHL Wednesday Championship: Wicked Good

Editor’s note: Thanks to rinkside reporter, Iron Butterfly fan, and Shark forward Terry “the Ear” Loebs for filing this report—complete with a wicked Baaston accent.

I owe him a coffee-flavored beeah or a beeah-flavored coffee (and a donut).

August 27, 2008
Rink One

Shaaks vs. Habs

Sharks swimming right to left across your mind’s ears…

Thanks to the acrobatic goaltending of Kate Fallon, who turned aside shots from (in degree of difficulty order) Anastas, Donahue, Corke, Mandarano and Fox, the Shaaks managed to open a 2–0 lead. The first maaker for the Shaaks came after Shark Mike Tavis dove headlong towards the boards to keep the puck in the zone. After righting himself, he kicked the puck to Bob “Postal Tape Boy” Kilkenny, who then dished smaatly to Terry “I Can Ear You” Loebs. Loebs wound-up the windmill center slot, closed his eyes tight, and made contact with the biscuit, which found its way through a maze of players and the fully-inflated (Garth Snow signature model) pads of goaltender Mitch Weiss. However, it would take much more than a lucky goal like to this to deflate the Habs’ spirit (or Weiss’s pads).

Seven minutes and several scintillating flashes of leather (by Fallon and Weiss) later, Canada-born Marc (“Maak the Knife”) Vallee ginsu’d his way through the neutral zone with two Habs defenders clinging to his back. To no avail—Maak managed a one-armed roof job over a sprawling Weiss. 2–0 Shaaks.

Now in the second period, the Habs were pissed now: Not only had the Shaaks managed to take a 2–0 lead halfway through the match, but the fact that they did so without any assistance from Mike “Show No” Moore—a no-show for this championship contest—was especially grating on the collective psyche of le bleu, blanc et rouge.

As Weiss nailed the door shut with save after sprawl, the Habs soon got busy. Paul Anastas weaved his way from end-to-end, leaving five Shaak jocks in his wake and then deposited the disc in the top right corner. The Habs followed that tally with a maaker from Tim Donahue from in-close, and then a gorgeous re-direction of a Donahue pass by Bill Mandarano cutting across the slot in front of Shaaks goaltender Fallon. 3–2 Habs.

The Shaaks, known for their thick skin, wicked shaap teeth and no Moore, were still down but not out as third period play began. Numerous chances were registered by the tenacious teal—including from Postal Tape Boy, "Grinder" Greg Longtine, Kevin "Well Done" Weldon, and Jamal “In a Gadda” Davita—but Weiss was there to deny every opportunity. Larry "Downtown" Brown had a blast from the point that clanged the crossbar. With the Shaaks threatening and within whiskers of knotting the score—and Kate Fallon standing on her head stopping multiple odd–man rushes—the Habs decided it was time to interrupt the fishes’ mounting mojo by calling for a timeout with 5:30 to go before the next drop of the puck, deep in the Habs’ zone.

On the ensuing draw, the Shaaks' Postal Tape Boy won the draw back to Larry Brown (presumably, this was not part of the plan the Habs concocted). Downtown fired a wicked haaad shot that Weiss denied with his left leg pad, but Loebs was there to pick up the trash and tie the score 3–3 with just under five minutes to play. The timeout strategy worked swiftly and effectively—albeit, for the fish.

The Shaaks countered several Hab attacks over the course of the game’s final minutes, and riding the euphoria of another Fallon stop, they lumbered down to the Habs’ end (although Longtine raced there). Tavis to Vallee to Weldon to Longtine, back to Tavis, and then after a few hacks, whiffs and saves in the crease, Chuck “a Puck” Livoli found an opening and fired an absolute laser beam through the back of the net (that's how Livoli would describe it, anyway).to put the Shaaks up for good, 4–3.

Following the game, Livoli remaaaked, “We had one more goal than they did at the end of three periods, so we won. By winning the final game of the play-offs, we are the champs. As champs, we get beer to go, eh?”