"Saturday Night's Alright"

As we braised in the hot tub, we discussed the possibilities of the evening. There were two basic contingents: one group planned on eating in the hotel restaurant, then moving on to the Dome to see Eagle River play Fond du Lac (a major local rivalry); one group planned on trying a new restaurant, THEN going on to the hockey game. I, unfortunately, can’t account for all the incidents that took place with group A, since I chose to try out the new restaurant, but I do understand there were more than a few “Ice Hole moments”. Now, as for group B, we had an excellent meal at the Old Stag. It’s a predominantly German menu, with schnitzels and brotens galore. With five different duck dishes, their menu was quite diverse. If you find yourself there at any time, I can wholeheartedly recommend the Sauerbrouten.

After stuffing our gullets, we rolled on over the Dome to join the rest of the party. Since Fond du Lac is a rival of Eagle River, we expected a much more spirited game than we saw on Friday night. We weren’t disappointed. A rowdy game, a rowdy crowd, and plenty of cheap pitchers kept everyone’s mood high. There was a collective holding of breaths as the Mullet Cup made an appearance during the intermission. Would Kent repeat his antics from the previous year? Yes, he would. I am pleased to inform our readers that not only did Kent head down to the ice, but the Keeper of the Cup recognized him from last year and actually called him down. He made us proud, and did not fall on the wet spot on the way off the ice.

Following the game (Eagle River ended up losing), we chugged back to Eagle River Inn, with the intention of breaking out the Ice Hole. We even bought some disposable shot glasses for the event. What we found in the bar, would shock us to the core. Missourians. Freakishly funky Missourians. Let’s say these folks thought the “Show Me” state motto meant “let me show you”. The display was entertaining, albeit at bit uncomfortable to watch. Kind of like an automobile accident, or someone pulling the wings off of flies. We do have this crowd to thank for one of the funniest lines of the trip. One inebriated lady Missourian was talking to Vrettacos and telling him that she had a single sister that she was trying to set up with someone. She then asked Chris, “Are you an American citizen?” We erupted with laughter.

The delegates from Missouri soon vacated the bar, and after a couple more barflies exited, we were the only ones left. We then broke out the butterscotch Ice Hole schnapps. If you are a fan of the sweet, intense flavors that this type of liqueur holds for the drinker, this variety was alright. It’s very flavorful, with little bite. I would compare it to drinking a Wurther’s.

We nursed our beers, downed shots of Ice Hole, fell over backwards in our chairs (okay, just one fall, and one chair – and he is an American citizen, I think), then helped Donna as she had to get on her knees to scrub up the carpet. The good times were had by all, and the evening seemed to be headed for its denouement, when certain individuals heard the call of the Village People. As the unmistakable intro for “YMCA” rolled, the dance floor was filled with revelers. One dancer, however, was clearly in a different league, surpassing even the greatest expectations of barroom choreography. As he strutted his stuff, the others struggled to keep up with his flamboyant, yet graceful moves. I now have a much clearer understanding of how this individual, with his seemingly limitless agility and imagination, is able to accomplish such incredible saves while defending the pipes on the ice rink. Well done, Fagan, well done.