So one of the odd things about playing hockey where we do is that aside from the actual game noises, it's pretty silent within the rink. I'm used to rugby where you're outside and near traffic, planes, etc. Hell, I've played games under the RFK Bridge on Randall's Island with all sorts of distractions. At the Ice House, however, it's just the smack of puck against stick and the slash of blade against ice.
Until this week. This week the scoreboard operator brought a laptop and peppered the breaks in action with snippets of music. He announced the goal scorers and the assists, and had a foghorn for when goals were scored. It was goofy but also kinda cool. As I hopped over the boards to the strains of 'Shipping up to Boston' I felt, just for a second, like a real hockey player.
Then I almost wiped out, and the illusion was shattered. Nice while it lasted.
Writing: 945 words. I said I'd try to get to a thousand. Descriptive writing is much easier than conversation.
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