Summer 2012 AMHL Championship Week Roundup

Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Blues vs. Flyers
Back to School

"It's textbook," Blues defenseman Scott Gelin says in response to teammate Adam Berger’s stepping into a Flyer as the former poked the puck off the latter’s stick. Classic AMHL interference.

Late in the second period, the teams tied at two, Flyers D-man Michael Moore conducts a power play clinic.

The Tonawanda (NY) native and Buffalo Sabres fan channels Tim Horton and Phil Housley as he mans the point. Moore fires a low shot, and faster than you can say “power play goal,” the Flyers lead.

Less than two minutes later, Moore targets another low shot on net. Rebound. Scramble for the puck. Goal. 4–2 Flyers.

Up 5–2 in the third period, Moore—an eight year AMHL veteran—crosses the Blues’ blueline, dishes a neat pass to Vincent MacNutt, a right hand shot on the off wing. The AMHL rookie shoots glove side, just inside the post. Score!

Mike Moore: Back Row (Second from Right)

The Blues insert themselves on the syllabus, converting a turnover into a goal—a shorty by Zach Zacharakis—but the Flyers keep the tuition and win the Koffey Cup, 6–3.

 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Rangers vs. Canadiens
The Spirit of Stuart Smalley

“We’re better than them…,” Rangers defenseman Mike DeLeo says to his teammates before the third period against the Canadiens, the score 3–3.

“…And by golly, people like us,” the AMHL Photographer completes the affirmation. “Isn’t that Stuart Smalley?” Sort of.

The Rangers lost their first six regular-season games and must have wondered what it would take for them to win. “That’s just stinkin’ thinkin’,” Stuart Smalley would say.

With DeLeo’s ever-abundant upbeat presence and the emergence of rookie sensation Mark Cavanagh (23G, 14A), the Rangers turned a despairing season into Koffey Cup contention.

But down 1-3 against the Canadiens, the Rangers again encountered adversity. “Trace it. Face it. Erase it,” Smalley would say.

Goals by Larry “Breakaway” Brown (courtesy of DeLeo’s long pass), and Cavanagh bring us to this second intermission, where they and the other six Rangers listen to their leader. Will the Rangers believe DeLeo or permit thoughts of their dubious beginnings to run amok?

And what about the Canadiens? Collapse or reclaim their team-esteem?

Midway through the third period, the score still three-all, the Blueshirts and Les Habitants battle their doubts and each other. The Rangers kill a penalty. Confidence: the key to success.

Can the Canadiens dispel their dismay and summon the spirit of a Saturday Night Live skit?

With just over seven minutes remaining, the hockey gods answer: DeLeo—skating right to left across your AMHL imagination—steals the puck at the Canadiens’ blueline, drives below the far circle, skates toward the crease, and then beats the goalie.

The Rangers convert this blossoming confidence into another goal and realize they are on the (b)rink of victory.

Mike DeLeo: Front Row (Second from Right)

The Rangers pose for their championship photo and listen as the hockey gods repeat the underdog’s mantra, this final Stuartsmalleyism, modified for the Koffey Cup winners: “We’re the Rangers, doggone it, and people like us.”

 

Thursday, August 23
Bruins vs. Capitals
ALL CAPS

It’s ALL CAPS as the third period is underway and the Bruins lead, 3–2. Bruins netminder Neal Hesler makes a save. His teammates clear the puck. Icing.

The game resumes: Feisty play, fraught with frustration foisted upon the referees, prompts this comment from the AMHL Photographer: ““Matt,” she says, referring to the iconic AMHL arbiter, “must love these games.”

The gruff and disgruntled combatants, their language as foul as the stench seeping from their hockey sweaters and sweaty hockey socks, continue. Blades slicing ice. Bodies crashing the net and into each other.

Hesler and his counterpart, Dan Barros, are on their A games. The Bruins still lead, 3–2, when Capitals forward Aaron Sherman—skating near to far across the Bruins’ blueline—accepts a pass, beats a would-be defender along the boards, and then bears down on Hesler. The slimmed-down Sherman cuts toward the crease and scores. 3–3.

To OT, where mayhem awaits: The three-on-three format, a partial power-play, time-outs. Confusion. And ultimately no scoring after five minutes.

To the shoot-out. In a championship game? How many players will participate? How many goals to win? Best of five, the referees decide, and the Bruins will go first.

1.       Kevin Leverone (B’s): Barros says no. (0–0)

2.       Mike Losier (CAPS): Hesler slams the door. (0–0)
3.       Kevin Daigle (B): Barros won’t budge. (0–0)
4.       Dave Losier (C): No juke and jive, just a shot…and a GOAL. (0–1)
5.       Ben Budds (B): He skates, he stops…he watches Barros poke the puck away. (0–1)
6.       Paul Webster (C): Alternating speeds… shifty and nifty…GOAL! (0–2)
7.       Mike DeLeo (B): He must score. He does score. (1–2)
8.       Aaron Sherman (C): Mr. Calm. Mr. Master the Moment. Goal. CAPS WIN THE CUP!

Mr. Master the Moment: Front Row (Second from Left)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, August 24

Stars vs. Kings
It’s Not Easy Being Green

Hi Ho hockey fans. Kermit the Frog, guest amphibian/blogger, here at the, uh, hockey and donut site.

It’s, uh, not easy being me, as you know. And any Muppet would tell you it’s not any picnic being the AMHL Stars. Not this morning anyway. Of course I’d prefer them to win, their primary color being what it is and all. But it’s better to be wearing white, grey and purple, folks.

The Kings have been a royal pain (go ahead, you old geezers, guffaw) in the neck for the Stars. Tim Donahue, Friday’s perennial points leader, and Scott Kessler, the normally smooth–as–Smuckers (original)–peanut–butter forward, have lost control of the puck more times than Fozzie Bear has delivered a wonderful pun-liner. Waka waka.

And any momentum the Stars generate, well, they just can’t sustain the green energy.

Instead, it’s the Kings who, like Miss Piggy, are hogging the spotlight: the Mike Statkuses, T.J. Uminas, and the Jim Reichhelds—the AMHL dreamers who watch the time on the clock like it’s a rainbow, connecting the joy of imminent victory and the promise of donuts.

Ah, those donuts affixed to the Koffey Cup…they are a sight to be seen…better to be a King…than to be wearing green.

 

Not Pictured: The Banana King

 

Oldies But Goodies: Former Bruins Rock On

Songs from the 1960s and '70s—when today’s oldest NHLers were born—are ripe for airplay on oldies stations. Tunes from the '80s and early '90s—when today’s oldest players were drafted—are maturing into fashionable fruit for these same stations.

So, in the spirit of Steve “Fly Like an Eagle’” Miller and Dave “Please Come to Boston” Loggins, I present these memorable former Bruins.

Mark Recchi
2009-2011

The kid from Kamloops (BC) was born when “Hey Jude” hit the charts and was drafted when Steve Winwood’s “Roll With It” was up for awards. Recchi (skating on a line with his boyhood idle Bryan “Hot Diggity” Trottier) won the ultimate hockey award with Pittsburgh in 1991; in 2006, with Carolina, Recchi (and fellow oldie Glen Wesley, also born in 1968) again hoisted the hardware high above his head.

In 2009, with the dismal Tampa Bay Lightning, Recchi owned the dubious distinction of a team-worst plus/minus (-15). When the B’s acquired him at the trade deadline, I was concerned that he would be a detriment to team defense.

Ha. Two years later and Recchi, who says he prefers rock ‘n’ roll or country over Marc Savard’s Top 40, probably was amused when, before the Stanley Cup parade, wanna-be rapper Brad Marchand performed “Wiz Khalifa’s Black and Yellow.”

Sean O’Donnell
2001-2004

Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind” climbed the charts in 1971, when Odie entered the world. Twenty years later, when the Buffalo Sabres drafted the defenseman, Maria Carey’s “Someday” ruled the airwaves. No way the Queen of the High Cs could have know her tune would be a smash hit or that O’Donnell’s quest to win the Cup would sixteen years later culminate with the Anaheim Ducks.

After signing with the Blackhawks, Odie (or should I say Oldie) is “Alive Again” in Chicago.

Mike Knuble
1999-2004

Born in 1972, Knuble grew up during the Age of Abba. Then in 1991, when Boyz II Men’s "Motownphilly" was all the rage in Cheesesteaktown, Knuble might not have predicted that “Mamma Mia” would be made into a musical, or that during the 2003 All-Star break, he’d tell his fans at Bruins.com that he planned to attend the show—because his wife is a big fan. (Sure Mike, admit it: Even a rough-and-tumble forward on the 700 pound line with Joe Thornton and Glen Murray, can dig the “Dancing Queen”.)

Will Washington be the “End of the Road” for the former Philadelphia Flyer? (Knubes turns 40 in 2012.)

Brian Rolston
1999-2004

The Allman Brothers’ “Ramblin’ Man” might be Brian Rolston’s theme song as the well-traveled forward was born in 1973. Then again, maybe Paul Abdul’s “Rush Rush” is a more appropriate theme song. Drafted in 1991, Rollie often led the charge up ice during his tenures with the New Jersey Devils (twice), the Colorado Avalanche, the Minnesota Wild, and the Boston Bruins. Here in Beantown, he thrilled fans with his specialties: speed, slap shots and short-handed goals (nine in 2001-02).

Rolston signed with the New York Islanders and will play an up-tempo game, blast a few slappers past would-be puck-stoppers, and maybe score a shortie or two.

Aaron Ward
2006-2009

I’m not sure if “Bad Bad Leroy Brown” is on Wardo’s playlist, but Jim Croce’s classic was among the top hits in 1971. Drafted in 1991, when Bryan Adams’s “Everything I Do (I Do it For You) ranked high on the charts, would Wardo have predicted that he’d still be playing eighteen years later? In his two seasons in Boston—before the B’s traded him back to Carolina to end his career—I enjoyed watching him stiff-arm puck-toting opponents, (broken?)-sticking it to Philadelphia with an OT game-winning goal.

AMHL Championship Week: A Week for the Ages, Part II

(Cont’d from Part I)

Thursday August 19
Concord, MA

Twelve-year veteran Mike DeLeo, who won a Koffey Cup on Tuesday, and rookie Tyler Boudreau, who savored championship victory yesterday with DeLeo, are teammates again. They and the Panthers lead the underdog Capitals, 2–1, after one period.

Boudreau has been watching baby boomers like DeLeo bang into one another—as much as the non-check rules will allow—and crash the crease.

One wonders if the forty-somethings can maintain this rough-and-tumble pace as young guns like rookie Panthers Luke Marchand, who has scored both goals, and Peter Bagley Jr. make names for themselves.

“All even!” Bagley’s dad, referee Peter Bagley Sr. alerts the teams, now engaged in second period action, as DeLeo departs the sin bin.

Bagley Sr. watches his son set up DeLeo, who will be credited on the goal that stakes the Panthers to 3–1 lead. The old-timers then watch Junior skate up ice, over the Capitals’ blueline, execute a stellar outside-inside move on the d-man, and then shoot from the high slot. Clang! Off the crossbar.

With a two-goal cushion and Boudreau on top of his game, DeLeo is confident he will again hold high that cherished chalice, the Koffee Cup. Between periods, he’s easily distracted by this reporter’s retro-metro Lord and Taylor shirt, its slanted black and white stripes prompting Disco DeLeo to deliver his best Tony Malero (John Travolta, Saturday Night Fever) move and then to ask, “Where’s the disco ball?”

“It is old home week,” the AMHL photographer says for the second time, as injured Av and eight-year veteran Brent Delehey walks (no limp, so the MCL is on the mend) along the corridor connecting Rink Two and Rink One to join the photographer, this reporter, and injured Capital Dean Banfield.

Banfield, the silver-haired cincquegenarian, is sporting a black knee brace and can only watch, as his Caps try to conquer le tour de force Boudreau.

“Seven minutes to go,” Banfield says. “Do or die time. Make this exciting.”

From the near boards, Panther forward, the dexterous and never-say-die Ben Budds, zings a pass toward teammate Rob “Mobile” Mirak, who is, ironically, parked near the far post. Boudreau flicks his stick to break up the pass, though.

DeLeo is not just stayin’ alive, he’s thrivin’. He adds another goal (assisted by the venerable and diligent David Hale), and he finds himself once again posing for a picture with the Koffey Cup, with old-timers and the young buck, Boudreau.

DeLeo’s season concludes with three championship victories, and Boudreau will, mayhap, complete the trifecta tomorrow.

Friday August 20
Concord, MA

Twenty-four-year old rookie goalie Tyler Boudreau wears #51, which is the approximate age of his counterpart, the prodigious Kate Fallon. In the second period, she and her Stars are embroiled in a scoreless tie with Boudreau’s Kings.

Like Fallon, fifty-year old King forward Gene “Don’t Call Me George” Costanza is keeping up with the youngsters. Costanza picks Jonathan Corke’s—in his mid-twenties—pocket along the boards. But Costanza cannot deposit the puck past Boudreau.

Fallon appears unfazed, matching the much younger Boudreau save for save. Perhaps not as spry as Boudreau, Fallon has been relying upon steadfast positioning to thwart the Kings, like Brian Barringer. Number 11 shoots from the low shot, and the puck flutters toward Fallon, who is once again in prime real estate to trap the puck like it’s a broken butterfly.

With less than thirty seconds in the second period, King forward Tim Smith controls a pass at the Stars’ blueline and skates in alone on Fallon. He fakes a shot from the slot, freezing Fallon, skirts around the fifty-something and then slides the puck over the unprotected goal line.

Five minutes into the third period, Smith stations himself in the crease, sniffing for rebounds. He pokes home a loose puck, and the Kings lead 2–0.

Boudreau seems like an impenetrable fortress, but Big Green refuses to cease the assault. On the power play, with 1:30 on the clock and Fallon on the bench in favor of an extra attacker, Marshall McLean—the Stars’ go-to guy all season—blasts a shot from the face-off circle. Boudreau blocks the shot with his waffle, once again stymieing the Stars.

After the buzzer signaling the shut-out, King Boudreau taps his stick twice upon the pipe to his right and then skates toward his minions to celebrate his third championship victory this week.

“That goalie is insane,” Corke says as he shakes his head and trudges toward the losers’ locker room.

Boudreau, if nothing else, has been a royal pain in the posterior.

But will the baby-faced substitute—and junior studs like Bagley and Marchand—become regulars and prove as durable and dependable as the senior set—the DeLeos, Barroses, Hales, and Fallons?

AMHL Thursday Championship: Three Cups

December 18, 2003
Concord, MA

Week 15 the Championship
Do you believe in miracles?

In Rink 1, it was David vs. Goliath as the first place Red Army team cam in losers of one regulation game facing the 7–7 Panthers (Team USA) ....

…The Red Army came out overconfident and listless and the spunky Panthers made them pay early, jumping out to a 2–1 lead after one period on goals by Dean Banfield and Dave Losier.

Rob Mirakov had two goals to keep it close but Kevin Leverone’s goal with 5 minutes in the second and Losier’s second of the game in the third sealed the deal for the sequel…

-Excerpt from the AMHL Thursday Ticker

While VP AMHL Thursday Operations Kevin Reilly, who would write the content above, collects hockey sweaters to be laundered, Panther goalie Dan Barros savors the fresh-brewed victory and its spoils—the Koffey Cup—in the Panthers’ locker room.

Meanwhile, Leverone is in the donut room, where most of this morning’s combatants convene for the lavish, season-ending breakfast provided by AMHL management. Leverone tells the AMHL media that Barros is his first star of the game.

A few minutes later, Barros, in typical unassuming fashion, enters the room without any fanfare. But the media recognizes a star when it sees one and presses him to share his hockey story: the history leading up to this morning’s upset over the mighty “Red Army” (officially known as the Capitals), who had not lost to the Panthers.

Barros (pictured above), whose positioning and efficient technique reminds the AMHL Photographer of Martin Brodeur, is not prone to waste movement. Barros doesn't easily dispense words.

“I was nine or ten,” the soft-spoken Barros recalls about his earliest playing days, when he skated at John F. Donnelly Field in what Barros has referred to as the "People's Republic of Cambridge" (MA). Little Danny skated on the tennis courts, which, each winter, were transformed into hockey venues.

“I played a lot of street hockey, too.” Barros says. It was then, in the heyday of the Bobby Orr and the Big Bad Bruins that Dan began his tenure between the pipes. He went on to play goalie in the Cambridge Youth Hockey program and then for Matignon High School. He harbored no lofty illusions of playing college hockey, however. But at Boston College, Barros did mind to the nets, if only in the occasional pickup game.

More than twenty years after graduation, Barros is not a sporadic fill-in; he’s an AMHL regular. In his ten-year career, his 3.96 Thursday GAA is—in a league that has more hangers than Burlington Coat Factory—is right up there with the leaders. And he’s appreciated not only by teammates such as Leverone but also by the “Red Army’s” Coach Dwyerkov (a distant cousin of Victor Tikhonov, who watched Team USA perform its first miracle).

“Barros is so steady,” Dwyerkov said after he had banished his squad to the locker room. “Those first period saves he made on (Tom) Hargravov and (Doug)Wightski were stellar. Then, after Mirakov beat him on that first breakaway, I think Barros told himself no way was Mirakov going to beat him on the next. And that sure was the case. We didn’t have many chances, but when we did, Barros barred the door for them. He looked like Jim Craig out there.”

But Barros, his Koffey Cup now complemented by two containers—one containing fresh-brewed coffee, the other eggs and pancakes because there were no plates left—disregards the accolades and credits his teammates. “Today we won with great back-checking and clogging up the neutral zone. We didn’t let them play their game, and we played ours.”

Spoken like a true champion.

Three Stars, as voted by the AMHL Media

3. Rob “Mirakov”: Normally the master of the empty-net goal, he put two past Barros.

2. “Losierone”: A product of Kevin Reilly’s imagination, Losier and Leverone are a formidable opponent (and the AMHL’s equivalent of a celebrity combined name).

1. Danny “Bar the Door” Barros

Honorable Mention:

Kevin Reilly: His rich ticker commentary inspired this story.
Dean Banfield: His circus stick tipped in his team’s first goal.
Kenny Tarrov: His great saves kept the "Red Army" close.

Bruins Recap: All Aboard

Another successful week for the Bruins has Boston—from Alewife to the Aquarium; from Back Bay to Charlestown—buzzing about the Black and Gold. All aboard, then, for this week’s recap.

On Monday morning—a day off for the AMHL Photographer and me—we entered the Red Line train at Alewife Station. Posters promoting NESN’s Instigators show greeted us.

After eating breakfast at Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe (I recommend the turkey hash) in the South End; watching the penguins, sharks, and winter skates at the New England Aquarium; lunch at Jose McIntyre’s (bring on the steak burrito), and then a ferry ride (on the SS Rookie) to and from Charlestown, we descended to the Blue Line.

A familiar voice echoed through the cavernous platform area. “This is Andrew Ference…,” the B’s injured defenseman and go-green guy, announced.

“Whoo hoo, Andy!” I yelled, as Ference proclaimed the merits of mass transport.

My wife and I took the Blue Line to the Green Line, where Mike Milbury, Jack Edwards, and Andy Brickley’s likenesses again greeted us, to the Prudential Center (we skipped dinner in favor of dessert).

With dusk developing into darkness, we walked thru “the Pru” to Back Bay Station. The throng there consisted of commuters and Bruins’ fans, who, unlike us, were headed for the Garden.

“Yeah, Bruins,” I bellowed as I patted a fan on the back. He and his friends or family would watch the B’s in person while TLP (the league photographer) and I would watch on NESN. The Bruins beat the Bolts, 5–3.

On Wednesday night, the growing fan base was disappointed when, in Washington, D.C., the Bruins out-shot the Capitals but lost, 1–3.

Two days later in Atlanta, the Black and Gold bounced back to trash the Thrashers. Then, last night, the Bruins bashed the Thrash again, this time in front of a full-house at the Garden.

Running roughshod over the weaker teams (when you’ve won twenty games, that means every team except the Sharks, whom the Bruins host in February) has become commonplace, but the Bruins don’t appear to be complacent when assessing their performance; they know they still have improvements to make: finishing on scoring chances (not good enough against the Capitals) and preventing opponents from scoring the last goal of the game (the Thrashers did that in successive games).

Come this Thursday, when the Bruins host the Leafs in front of fans—many of whom have arrived at North Station via the commuter rail and the Green Line—we’ll see if the B’s can keep this train rolling.

If you’re already enjoying the ride, fantastic. If not, I think Andrew Ference would agree: Get on board.

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

AMHL Thursday: Saddle Up

Image courtesy of Appaloosa at Flickr.com

November 20, 2008
Valley Sports, Rink Two
Concord, MA

“Saddle up your horses. We got a trail to blaze…”
-“The Great Adventure,” Steven Curtis Chapman

The Capitals’ locker room smells like a stable. Stench rarely bothers hockey players, but this morning’s stink is so rancorous that defenseman Erik “Sunday Silence” Domingo is taken aback.

Are the 2–9–0–0 Avalanche, this morning’s opponent, playing a prank on the 9–1–0–1 Caps?

Domingo checks the shower floor for road apples but finds nothing that needs to be removed from the premises. The Caps can overcome the toxic tendrils of unknown source, but will the team—without four key players—falter against the Avalanche?

Netminder Kenny “Northern Dancer” Tarr, Forward “Big Ben” Budds, Rob “Funny Cide” Mirak, and Doug “The Black Stallion” Wight, are all out to pasture—at least this morning.

And they’re off, the Capitals trotting left to right across your imaginary racetrack/rink...

...The Avalanche lead 2–1 on goals by Mike “Giacomo” Gardner and Tim “Tim Tam” Turner, but the Capitals pull even when Tom “Champion” Barrett and Tom “Trigger” Hargrave execute a perfect give-‘n’-go, Barrett roofing a shot over Mitch “Ponyboy” Weiss.

Still in the first period, the Capitals score three more goals before Steve “Quick Draw McGraw” Cook, snaps a wrister past Stephanie, “Rags to Riches” Spunt, who was claimed off waiver wires to replace Kenny Tarr.

After one period, it’s 5–3 Capitals.

“It looks like the Bruins last night,” says Hargrave, referencing the hometown team’s first period against the visiting Buffalo Sabres.

Whoa, Nellie. The Avalanche, even without scoring stud Paul “Seldom Seen” Nelson counter with two goals, including one that ricochets off a loose saddle and then drops behind Spunt.

But Mike “Real Quiet” Hansen lopes past an Av defenseman and then beats Weiss like a dusty saddle blanket. No one-trick pony, Hansen scores again and then watches Brent “Sea Biscuit” Delehey beat Weiss high to the blocker side.

After two periods, the Caps lead, 7–4.

“What are you doing?” Spunt asks the Capitals’ lame bench jockey. “Coaching? Statistician…?”

Gatekeeping. And betting on the Caps.

The Avalanche will not quit. They again pull within two lengths on goals from Rich “the Pinto” Perkins and Cook.

But the Avs don’t have the…uh…horses and can’t catch the Caps. 8–6 is your final, equine enthusiasts.

With one game left in the regular season, the Capitals have blazed a trail to first place and—in the Great Adventure known as the AMHL Play-offs—are the odds-on favorite to win the Koffey Cup.

AMHL Thursday, Part II: Great Expectations

"Now, I return to this young fellow. And the communication I have got to make is, that he has great expectations."

-Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens

Last week, the first installment of our AMHL saga ended with the underdog Bruins trailing the bourgeoisie, 0–1. But the B’s have not lost faith. Nay. Despite the team’s losing record, they aspire to greatness; as Dickens’ protagonist Pip sought to transform himself from a blacksmith to gentleman, the Bruins seek an escape from the forge of sub-mediocrity.

The King of the Capitals, who would be joining the battle had it not been for a lower body injury, has been surprised by the Bruins doggedness and, at the first intermission, informs his minions of the statistics: twelve shots on goal for the Bruins, four for his own team. Not good enough.

Angered by the uprising, the Capitals—skating right to left across your classic literature—wage an assault on goalie Steve Scansaroli. The brawny backstop’s defense seems to have given up the cause and offers only token support. Scansaroli is under siege. A pad save here, a glove save there, Scans holds his own until the Caps score off a rebound. Later in the second period, Cap center Brent “Scooter” Delehey displays Orr-like presence: Scooter carries the puck into Bruin territory and then confuses his opponents by pretending to fall. As his opponents wonder how to respond, Scooter—his twisted torso serving as a Zamboni—passes the puck left, to John Field, who beats Scansaroli.

The Bruins counterstrike on gatekeeper Ken Tarr, who has been alert and agile. But when his own defense is not able to reach a rebound, Tarr is helpless to stop a grateful Bruin.

However, the Capitals respond by pouncing on yet another rebound and then beat an abandoned Scansaroli.

After two periods, the king is content with his underlings’ offensive outburst: eighteen shots on goal. But the AMHL’s upper class allowed nine shots. His majesty knows that a 4–1 lead in this league is not insurmountable. And the Bruins (several of whom may have read Great Expectations in junior high school) still have high hopes.

The rebels regroup and then attack. Scott “A-Train” Arnold, once an apprentice blacksmith, chugs in on a breakaway. But Kenny Tarr, who traded in his smithing tools for a regal robe and a fine facemask, drops a metaphorical anvil in front of Arnold.

The king is pleased, even when the revolutionaries score on their sixth shot (another rebound) this period. The insurrection is about to be suppressed for good when, late in the game, Rob “Mr. Open Net” Mirak has a clear shot at the vacated goal. His teammates have been chiding him—all in good fun—about his penchant for scoring goals after the opponent’s netminder has been yanked for an extra skater. So Mirak passes to teammate Mike Hansen who, with his sixth goal this season, sticks a stake in the once buoyant Bruins.

Shots on Goal
Bruins: 10
Capitals: 12

The game over and their battle gear returned to malodorous hockey bags, the players turn their attention to the donut pantheon. What sort of sweets will Adam “Donut Meister Meister Donut” Berger have procured for this morning’s participants? Will there be a sprinkled donut for Chad Mikkelson? How about a Boston Kreme for Scansaroli? A Munchkin for the king?

Now, what I have to relate about these old fellows is that they have great expectations.

AMHL Thursday: Tale of Two Teams

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…
it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair…
--in short, the period was so far like the present
period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its
being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree
of comparison only..”

-A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens

Before last week’s match pitting the 7–0–0–1 Capitals against the 4–5–0–0 Bruins, one team was enjoying the metaphorical spoils (fresh, perfectly glazed donuts) served at the castle atop the AMHL Thursday standings; the other was hoping to avoid foraging for scraps (sprinkles from stale Munchkins) in the league’s cellar.

In the first period, the aristocrats have withstood a fierce attack from the noisy peasants. Capital twineminder Ken Tarr has repelled—stick saves, kick saves, whatever-it-takes saves—the angry mob of Bruins. Tarr’s counterpart, Steve Scansaroli, has been less busy fending off the federalists’ futile volleys. But then Capital forward Ben Budds skates through the laissez-faire defense to fire a shot over Scansaroli and below the crossbar.

The period ends with nobility on top, 1–0. But the hopeful underdogs are committed to toppling the upper class.

Shots on Goal
Capitals: 8
Bruins: 12

Tune in later this week for the second installment, Great Expectations.

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 III: That’s the Way It Is

Since my hockey groin injury three weeks ago, the blood extending from my lower abdomen to my left knee has been reabsorbed. But the torn adductor and iliopsoas muscles are not yet ready for ice time. Could be four weeks or more before I’m ready for even a light skate. It’s tough to not participate, but playing is out of the question for now. That’s the way it is. An update, then, on last week’s activities while “on the shelf.”
Wednesday morning
Home

Celine Dion’s “That’s the Way It Is” sustains me as I perform light exercise on the Wobble Board. I’m in push-up position, my hands at 9:00 and 3:00 on the circular device. My abs beg me to exit the exercise, but I hold steady and look up at the objects sitting, left to right across your imagination, on the makeshift shelf: a picture of my parents; a photo of my kids, a personalized AMHL Avalanche photo puck that the AMHL Photographer, whose at the rink right now, created last May. “That’s the Way It Is”, the fourth of five songs in the rotation for my rehab session, and I stand up. A Christopher Cross tune is next on my iPod’s random playlist. I place my feet where my hands just were and then rock side-to-side and then front-to-back until “All Right” (I think we’re gonna make it concludes.

Thursday morning
Concord Valley Sports, Rink One

A different cast of characters has reported to play for the Capitals. Today is no different. Brent Delehey, who missed the first four games, is here today. Good thing because Mike “MMMBop” Hansen is out for the second consecutive game. And today is Scott Keith’s last game—family commitments will tear him away from finishing the season. Family first: That’s the way it is. But Rob “Mobile” Mirak has been here for every game, including this morning’s match against the Panthers.

It’s late in the third period, Caps skating left to right across your AMHL radio and the score 4–4. Mirak pots a goal and then performs a perfect pirouette. For the encore, he scores an empty-netter.

Mirak postulates a reason for the rally. “Gumption,” he says, and then skates off the ice. Bravo, Rob.

Friday
Work

Before walking to work, I completed another light workout session. Pain-free and grateful. Now I’m thinking of Mike “the Eagle” Chase. Like me, he’s also on the shelf. His condition, as many readers who’ve followed his story know, is much more serious than mine, however. Melanoma is fierce competitor, and chemotherapy is a difficult teammate. Mike hasn’t played in months, but he is back to work at Boston College. He has a CT Scan this afternoon and expects the results on Monday. Good luck to you, buddy. We’re, at least in spirit, with you and your family. That’s the way it is with the hockey community.

On the Shelf, Part I: Soda Jerk

A lower-mid body injury I incurred two Thursdays ago—with about five minutes left in the game—will keep me on the shelf for I don’t know how long. Could be four weeks or four months. I’m trying to keep upbeat during this downtime, though. Although I won’t be writing anything like “…and this morning, I blocked a shot, finally scored a goal, and ate a donut..,” I hope you’ll enjoy AMHL action from different angles. Plus, I plan to deliver more reviews of hockey books I’ve read and that are literally (because they’re books) on the shelf.

Thursday, September 18
Rink Two

I arrive a little late, so I don’t make it to the Capitals' bench. I watch the first period from behind Avalanche netminder Mitch Weiss. We surrender the first goal but then lead 4–1 at the intermission.

I shuffle to the bench, where I figure I’ll be the gatekeeper. And because a few guys are missing this morning, I’ll do a little one-on-one coaching and player-profiling.

With a 4–2 lead, Mike “MMMBop” Hansen, Rob “Mobile” Mirak, Erik “Nunca el” Domingo, as well as two other teammates for whom I haven’t yet assigned nicknames—Scott Keith and John Field— are on the ice. That leaves only Doug Wight on the bench.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask Wight.

“A frappe.”

A few minutes later, Field takes his turn on the bench.

“Hey,” he says. “Can you tape this?”

I look up from my notes to see him holding his hockey stick, blade up.

“Kidding,” he says.

Add soda jerk and stick boy to my list of duties.

When Mirak sits, I ask him if he needs anything.

“No. I’m good.”

And he is. He and Hansen each are credited with four points in our 6–4 victory.

Tune in next week, when I’ll have hockey tape, if not a frappe maker.

AMHL Thursday: Going for the Gold

(Image courtesy of Tom M. at flickr.com)

My gold medal from Lake Placid hangs from the key rack to my right. The Miracle movie poster is on the wall to my left. I’m dressed in full hockey gear (except for my helmet and skates) and pull open the door.

The play-offs don’t start until next week, but like athletes at the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games, I’m going for the gold this morning.

We, the Panthers, have lost four straight, including a 2–10 drubbing by the Capitals four weeks ago. But this morning, with the world taking a break from watching those other games in China to tune into AMHL-TV, we’re hammering those same Caps. We lead 5–3 after the first period.

In the second period, skating left to right across your AMHL imagination, we keep driving toward the net. My smooth-skating and high-scoring teammate Tom “Badah Bing” Barrett skates into the Caps’ zone. At the far circle, he controls the puck and skirts a Cap defenseman. Barrett skates across the crease and then pushes the puck past the sprawled goalie. Badah Boom!

The Italian judge awards Barrett a 9.75.

Later in the second period, Eric “Danke” Schoen controls a perfect pass from Dave “Mr. Hockey” Losier. Below the near circle, Schoenie strides across the crease. He falls forward but still manages to slip the puck past the netminder.

The German judge raises his scorecard for the TV audience: 9.6.

In the third period, it’s my turn to shine. Inside the Caps’ blue line I’m unguarded, waiting for a pass. As the puck approaches, I lose my balance, as if the ice between my skates has cracked to reveal an ocean. The puck slips past me as my arms flap like windmill blades and my legs wobble like I’m on a surfboard.

To my immediate left, the Capitals on the bench are laughing. So is the supposedly neutral official. I’m okay, thanks boys.

And the Caps don’t take advantage of my mistake.

I have a chance to redeem myself. Our forwards backcheck deep into our zone and create a turnover. I’m the high man in our zone, so I fill the void created by our defensively responsible left wing and join Losier on a two-on-one. Losier skates the puck up the right wing and over the Caps’ blue line, waiting for me to catch up. He dishes a puck to the where I’m headed. Below the near circle, I cradle the puck. A right-handed shooter, I have a good angle, so I hoist the puck high glove side. Not high enough, though.

But we still win. And after the game, Cap forward Peter Kokas tells me the Russian judge gave me a 9.5 for my windmill act.

No gold, but winning the bronze still places me on the podium with Barrett and Schoen.

Celtic Pride

Kate fallon (goalie, pictured right): Will the lassie lead the Sharks to another championship?

In Celtic Pride (1996), Bostonians and best friends Mike O’Hara (Daniel Stern) and Jimmy Flaherty (Dan Aykroyd) are hockey fans (remember the scene where Jimmy is watching the Bruins on TV?). That’s right, hockey fans.

Sure, the movie was about the buddies’ obsession with the hometown team sporting the shamrock; but when Mike and Jimmy come down from the high triggered by the Celtics’ championship and ensuing celebrations, the two boyos will be ready to appear in Celtic Pride 2.

You see, Jimmy and Mike will become AMHL fans.

The two blue collar lads will love everyone’s favorite morning hockey (and donut) league because it’s rich with Celtic connections. From Tuesday to Thursday, AMHL rosters have been rooted in Irish heritage.

The Doyle brothers, Brendan and Jeremy, enjoy a cult-like following from Concord to County Cork. The two Flyers may well hoist the Koffey Cup again, as they did last season for the Leafs.

The Leafs will wallow in last place unless they can recruit a player with a surname such as Mahoney or Mahony. Peter Mahoney, who retired from the league several seasons ago, set a record for assists in a game, has not yet been contacted by Leafs management. Meanwhile, Bill Mahony, may be too busy chasing his kids around this summer to play hockey. Nonetheless, Billy’s agent is working the phones, trying to design an incentive-packed deal for his client.

The Blues’ Ryan O’Connor (not to be confused with the Barrie Colts’ sixth-round draft pick) leads all AMHL rookies in scoring. Teammate John Sweeney, in his second season, has already doubled his goal production from the last campaign.

“Penguin Pat” Obrien is making a comeback. The feisty Irishman scored three points in his first game in more than a year. His goalie, the unorthodox Brian Monahan, leads the league is poke checks and pucks deflected out of play. And Jeff Quinn, if his statistics are any indication of his potential, will continue to improve.

On Wednesday’s, Tim Donahue—last season’s MVP—has already lit the lamp nine times (and assisted on nine goals) for the Canadiens. Good luck trying to stop him.

Kate Fallon, who backstopped the Sharks to a championship last season, has a 2.66 GAA for the Teal Tiburones. Bobby Kilkenny can play nets if needed, but Stow’s (MA) favorite celebrity is blossoming into a point-producing prodigy. The CPA-by-day has been putting up big numbers this season.

Kevin Lyons, an unheralded Sabre defenseman, is best at putting out fires—in and around Acton and in the creases at Valley Sports Arenas.

On Thursdays, Paul Connors, the ever-steady and heady blue liner, has commanded the Caps to 5–0–1–0 record.

Mike Kennedy, City Sport’s CEO and de facto Avalanche captain, will make a new name for the Kennedy clan. “K” was out of commission last season with a tennis-related injury; but in his first game back, the venerable defenseman scored a highlight-reel goal (against his own goalie). Other than that blunder, Kennedy has returned to form: no goals, one assist, but lots of no-panic play, effective passing, and legendary leadership.

The Bruins, like the Leafs on Wednesday, are winless and hoping AMHL management will trade an AMHLer with obvious Irish ancestry to the hapless clubs.

And let’s not forget the Panthers. With the versatile and quick-witted Kevin “Hungry Hill” Reilly, time-tested Tommy Barrett, and yours truly, we’re a good bet to win the championship.

We’ll make fast friends with Mike O’Hara and Jimmy Flaherty, too.

AMHL Thursday Championship: On a Mission

Thursday May 9, 2008
Concord, MA

Avalanche sharpshooter and co-author of Business Plans that Work, Andrew “Zach” Zacharakis is presumably teaching entrepreneurial theory somewhere—who knows exactly—maybe China, maybe Chile. Teammate Bill Chioffi postulates another theory.

In the locker room before our game against the Capitals, Chioffi jokes that Zach is an assassin posing as a professor.

Regardless of Zach’s true operation, he’ll miss the championship. We’ll miss the way he plays with reckless abandon, but we’re focusing on our own mission: Win the Koffey Cup!

Our goalie, Nova Scotia native and KISS fan extraordinaire, Kenny Tarr tells us to steer clear of his puck-stopping counterpart’s glove.

Skating right to left across the Internet, we Avalanche are rolling. Losier has won the opening face-off back to me. I pass it to left wing Scott Kessler. He pushes it over the blue line. The Caps clear the puck but gift-wrap it to Tom Hargrave. The former Clarkson University player enters the zone, goes around a defenseman, and scores on Steve Scansaroli.

We’re still leading 1–0 midway through the first. A capital forward beats me to the puck in the high slot. He shoots low stick side, but Tarr kicks out his right leg, directing the puck to the near boards.

Avalanche all-purpose man and java aficionado, Mike “Mr. Coffee” DeLeo, is flying today. The mild-mannered defenseman who downs a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts divine brew before every game, is filling in for Zach at forward. DeLeo is all alone and shoots on Scans. "'Roli the Goalie" falls to his knees, trapping the puck in his midsection.

“I’d fire (DeLeo) right now.” Prime time referee and part-time color commentator Peter Bagley says to us on the Avalanche bench.

Five minutes later, DeLeo has a shot at redemption and makes the most of it.

When DeLeo scores his second goal to give us a 3–0 lead, Chioffi says to me, “I believe that’s another blocker-side goal.”

We’re sticking to the scouting report and focusing on the mission, cashing in on our chances and playing solid in all zones. And when the Caps get a rare scoring opportunity, Kenny takes care of business.

Now in the second period, the puck is loose in our zone. Tarr beats Ben “Ear” Budds, the kangaroo quick Cap forward, to it, though.

Back the other way—skating right to left now across your Internet Explorer—we lose the puck in the offensive zone. The Caps attempt to clear it past the right point, where I’m cemented. I keep it in the zone once…twice…the puck is in the right corner. The diminutive Scott Harvey settles the puck and then centers a big-time pass to DeLeo. Bing, bang, boom.

“Mikey,” Bagley says, “That’s a hat trick you know, baby. (Go back) on D!

No need. Doug Wight, Scott Keith, Chioffi and I are all set.

Cap power forward and former Bowdoin College defenseman “Polar” Paul Nelson charges over the blue line. Between the face-off circles, the tall and talented forward winds up and then blasts the puck into my thigh pad. A blocked shot is as good as a goal for me.

But the Caps keep coming. Mirak scores with 5:30 left in the second stanza. Down 4–1, Bagley is hopeful Mirak and his minions can mount a comeback.

“It’s just the beginning,” Bags says as he records the goal. “I tell ya.”

“Beginning of the end,” an anonymous Avalanche corrects the affable arbiter.

In the third, period, the mission is all but complete. We’re up 6–1, and DeLeo breaks free with the puck. He ignores the scouting report and shoots glove side. The puck hits the top of Scansaroli’s catching mitt and then falls behind the forlorn netminder.

The Caps counter with a late goal, but 7–2 is as close as they’ll get.

Somewhere on one of the seven continents, Zach—his own mission perhaps accomplished—may be wondering if we’ve won without him.

Front row, left to right: Scott Kessler, Scott Harvey, Kenny Tarr, Mike DeLeo, Dave Losier

Middle Row: KC (Koffey Cup)

Back Row, left to right: Scott Keith, Jimmy Dwyer, Chad Mikkelson, Doug Wight, Bill Chioffi, Tom Hargrave

AMHL Thursday: Going Green

Image courtesy of Fernando at Flickr.com

Thursday, May 1st, 2008

The AMHL Photographer and I share a small SUV. It’s the least we can do to make our planet greener. She drives us to Concord Valley Sports while I contemplate—between conversations—my first round play-off game against the Bruins.

Avalanche teammates, greenhorns Scott Kessler (2g, 1a) and Tom Hargrave (3g, 1a) (Hey rooks, update your profile pages) lead us to the Koffey Cup Finals. A 9–3 victory over the Bruins pits us against next week’s opponent, the Capitals. The Caps have defeated Chris Howell’s Panthers, 5–1.

Howell is my chauffeur this week, but he’s over the loss. Still in the parking lot, Howell tells me it’s Kermit the Frog month.

What?

He reminds me of the calendar my wife designed, produced, and then gave to a select few kindred spirits like me and the AMHL’s original director or donut procurement. May’s picture, which I’ll see again when I get to work, is of a svelte felt bendable amphibian: Kermit is chumming up to a Dunkin’ Donuts Blueberry, his right elbow resting upon the glazed prize (Mike Schneider’s favorite).

Howell says he is afraid to ask why I own a Kermit doll.

Kermie and I are tight, so I sing in a voice that my family has told me sounds exactly like my favorite Muppet. “Piggy, Piggy, Piggy, can’t you see? “Can’t you see the way you hypnotize me?”
Chris is alarmed but still laughs as he exits the parking lot. National Public Radio’s broadcast—Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are ready to drop the gloves—prompts a change of topic.

Howell and I talk politics. Gas prices and energy conservation efforts: Is going green as simple as supply and demand? We engage in a lively discussion and by drive’s end, we’re ready to tackle, together, our nation’s problems.

“Do you want president or vice president?” I ask him as I exit his pick-up truck.

Chris doesn’t want to work, so he’d take the vice-presidency.

Uh-oh! If there’s a crisis on a Thursday morning, say between 6:00 and 8:30 a.m., I’ll be too busy with hockey. Kermit the Frog may as well be your president.

Short Shifts: Here's to U

Driving home from another trip to CanadAmerica, I hear on WBZ radio that Boston College beat Notre Dame, 4–1 to win the 2008 NCAA Division I Championship. Gerbe and the gang weren’t the only Eagles on ice this week. So in honor of BC (and a few other Boston-based schools, and one in upstate New York), here’s to U.

Tuesday morning, BC alumni Kate Mikkelson, Erin Tullock, and Mike Chase (posing here as a lumberjack) wore not maroon and gold but blue and white—for the AMHL Blues. The trio defeated Mike Evans (another BC alumnus among us) and the Leafs 6–1.

Wednesday, the Sharks’ Andy Hayes and the Sabres’ Jonathon Corke (teammates at Clark University), played against each other. Corke’s teammate, Stephen “Whoa Nellie” Antonelli (alma mater unknown, but you can ask him; he loves fan mail) scored the game-winner. “It was an ugly backhander,” Antonelli would say after the game, “that scooted inside the pipe.”

Thursday, MIT’s Chad Mikkelson scored two goals for the Avalanche. Tied at two in OT with the Caps, fellow Av Tom “Last Train to Clarkson” Hargrave—slapped a shot toward the Capitals’ goal. An Av tipped the puck over the goal line—just after the buzzer (or so said referee and BC alumnus Peter Bagley).

Revenge of the AARP: Part I

“It’s kind of like Revenge of the Nerds,” I said to my driver, fellow AMHLer George Morton. He had just described the goals he and Brion Bickerton had scored on Thursday morning.

Morton, a Capital, and Bickerton, a Bruin, are among the league’s leaders…in age. They’re closer to greeting St. Peter than they are to leading the league in scoring, and it’s rare that the all-but-bald quinquagenarians score in the same game.

“The AARP,” George corrects me.

“Revenge of the AARP!” I say as I pull my gear from the back of his Subaru. “That’s my blog!”

George and Brion will later describe how, on behalf of the American Association of Retired Persons, they exacted revenge on Generation X.

George writes, “Well, you know it's tough remembering details, especially at our age. However, I'll do my best.

“For Brion's goal, my recollection is that he received the puck from one of his defenseman behind his own net, skated through some vicious forechecking in his own zone, escaped from a hook and an attempted trip in the neutral zone, and then shredded the Capital defense.

“He executed his patented spin move just over the blue line, causing one defenseman to fall down and then faked the slapper and walked around the remaining d just before deking the goalie and deftly depositing a nifty backhand over the right shoulder and into the net.

“I may be a little off on a few of the more subtle details but I think I caught the flavor of the whole experience.

“As for my goal, it occurred early enough in the game that the memory has totally faded but I think it was similar to Brion's.”

Brion basks in the afterglow—all weekend—before he reciprocates George’s generosity, “It's not that age affects remembering the details. It's just at this point, George and I have so many seasons behind us with so many game-winning goals that it becomes difficult to isolate a single goal amongst the many achievements.

“What struck me about George's goal last week was the sheer strength and balance required to pull it off. George and I had been pounding each other all morning. I had just taken a slap shot that hit the rear glass so hard that it richoted [sic] almost back to the blue line where an opportunistic George caught it mid-air with the blade of his stick perfectly redirecting it to his line mate who didn't have to break stride to get the puck. At that point, I tried to grab George to slow down his pace but he slashed my wrists to make me lose [my] grasp.

“George sprinted down ice catching up to his line mate who was sprinting down the left side of the ice. It was a 2 on 3 situation, with both Mike Moore and Chris Powers perfectly positioned on defense to put a stop to the rush. George heads for the top of the key with both Mike and Chris starting to pinch him. Notwithstanding the double-teaming of George, George's linemate passed it into George. Chris then grabbed George by his shooting arm and Mike started pushing George down toward the ice. Remarkably, George kept the puck on his stick and more remarkably, as he was falling down to the surface of the ice, George with only one hand on the stick (the other one being pinned by Chris), backhanded the puck over the goalie's right shoulder. How anyone could have one handed a backhand shot with any power and direction is beyond me, but George did it.

“Despite our goals and our altercations during the game, we were most disappointed not to notch a "Gordie Howe" -- a goal, an assist, and a fight, with the assist eluding us.”

What has eluded us is the truth, but I don’t think the AARP will mind that—or the free publicity.

Stay tuned for Part II of Revenge of the AARP, starring…

-Aaron Ward (as himself), Boston Bruins
-Adolfo Gonzalez (as Ed Asner) from WBCN
-Yours Truly

Here’s a sneak peek at the trailer.

If You Could Read My Mind

Image provided courtesy of www.lightfoot.ca


“If you could read my mind,” as the Gordon Lightfoot song title goes…

…you could tell that Canada has been on my brain this week. I’ve been reading Vinyl Café Diaries by Stuart McLean, whom some might claim is the Canadian equivalent of Garrison Keillor. McLean accentuates his bust-a-gut funny stories about Dave, who owns and operates a record shop in Toronto, and his family, with references to hockey.

On Rink Two on Thursday morning, I was five feet in front of my goalie, Nova Scotia native Kenny “KISS Fan” Tarr (hello Lower Sackville readers) when Chris “Tower of” Power, from Toronto, wound up for a slap shot at the top of the circle to my right Get out of the way? Skate out to meet the Al Iafrate of the AMHL? I froze like Northern Saskatchewan in early January as the puck whistled past me and then past my screened goalie.

Meanwhile, the Maple Leafs were probably sound asleep in a Boston hotel, resting for Thursday night’s game against the Bruins. The Bs belted the Buds as the AMHL Photographer and I cheered from our TV room.

The high-def TVs at the 99 Restaurant on Friday night offered customers sight but no sound. Bellied up to the bar and waiting for dinner, I watched ESPN’s Pardon the Interruption; toward the end of one segment, Tony Kornheiser waved a Canadian flag. Why? I knew that he isn’t Canadian, so I’d have to investigate this weekend.

On Saturday morning at Dunkin’ Donuts, while my wife read the sports section in The Boston Globe, I opened the paper’s “Sidekick” section to learn that Canada was assigned dishonorable mention in “Punch Lines” and that “This Day in History” indicated that Gordon Lightfoot, the iconoclastic singer whom the Maple Leafs named honorary captain in 1992, was born in 1938.

Back at home in Maynard, I hopped on the Internet to solve the mystery of Mr. Kornheiser’s gesticulation of the Maple Leaf. Pardon the Interruption is aptly named for Canadians: The show that airs on Canada’s TSN abruptly ends for viewers north of the 49th parallel—they’re transferred to TSN’s SportsCentre—while American viewers watch, if not hear, "The Big Finish" on ESPN.

Later on Saturday morning, I tuned in to ESPN 890 for the New England Hockey Journal Radio Show with Kevin Paul Dupont and Mick Colageo. After discussing Glen Murray’s goal- scoring drought, and then the induction of Mark Messier and Ron Francis to the Hall of Fame, Mick and Dupes bantered with the Toronto Star’s Damien Cox. What about the Leafs… How about Doug Armstrong losing his GM job in Dallas…What about the possibility of the Toronto Argonauts playing the New England Patriots?

“Woo!” I said when it was my turn to chime in. “That’s what I’ll say when Murray scores two goals in first period tonight.” I then told the guys they forgot to mention Al MacInnis in their Hall of Fame discussion. Murray and MacInnis, I said, are both from Nova Scotia. I signed off by telling them I’d call from Newfoundland next Saturday.

The AMHL Photographer and I leave on Thursday, so that doesn’t give me much time to update my iPod with a Gordon Lightfoot tune or two.

AMHL Thursday: Heart (and Soles)

Uh oh. I can’t find the insoles to my skates.

I announce this to my Avalanche teammates in the locker room fifteen minutes before our first round play-off game against Aaron Sherman and the Capitals.

“Use the ones from your shoes,” says Bill Barrett, sitting to my right.

“Brilliant!”

Across from me, I catch the end of a story Brion Bickerton is sharing. …a doctor, who was out of the office, was bitten by a scorpion but had in her bag of tricks an ample supply of Benadryl. I had know idea antihistamines could counter the sting from an eight-legged arthropod.

“That’s why I always carry an extra bag of defibrillators,” I say on my way out the door to Rink One.

After surviving the first period against the last-place Caps, Bickerton takes charge of matters with the quiet calm of a surgeon during coronary bypass surgery. Dave “Mr. Hockey” Losier’s lower body injury has forced the superstar to play defense and has thrust Brion into an unfamiliar role: point-producer.

In the second period, the Avalanche skating right to left across your streaming audio, Bickerton controls the puck along the far boards in the offensive zone. He centers a pass to Barrett, who wastes no time lighting the lamp. A few minutes later, Bickerton is covering for me on the right point as I’ve ventured deep into the offensive zone, waiting for a pass. Brion slings the puck toward the net. It seems to bounce off someone’s skate, stick, or shin pad and then darts past goalie John Torney.

Bickerton’s offensive outburst seems to have jolted us back to life. His stellar play isn’t limited to his pin-point passing or wise shot selection; our hard-working right winger is like brown on rice (I prefer the unprocessed grain over the blanched and clichéd variety), clogging the Caps’ passing arteries.

Sherman earns two assists but does not score. Bickerton doesn’t score either but has notched three helpers in our 8–4 victory.

Two hours after inserting those insoles into my skates, I walk to work. My pulse quickens just thinking about Brion Bickerton’s brilliant play and next week’s championship game.