Yeah, yeah, I'm late. Like you care. We headed into our first round playoff game with a slice of optimism. We got carved up in the final week of the season by a team sporting two guys that should have been at least Division 6 or higher, who took advantage of someone giving D a try and getting lit up to the tune of -6. We'd played a great game against the team we were scheduled against a few weeks earlier, losing 3-1. Even missing one of our best all-around players we figured we had a shot.
We hadn't counted on the ringers.
I know, it sounds like sour grapes. But I knew we were doomed in warm-ups as I watched these two skate around and unload bombs from the blue line. This was confirmed after the game - although the way they stated circles around us was proof enough of their ringer-dom - when I happened to be walking out behind them and heard this conversation:
Ringer 1: Hey, did you hear about the email the league sent about the top teams being kicked up a division or two?
Ringer 2: Well, some of those teams have guys that shouldn't be playing in this division.
Ringer 1: (long pause) Like us. ::sees me, laughs sheepishly::
So, yeah. I had a lousy game - made mistakes, got my pocket picked for a goal, and so on - but still managed to be a -3 in a game we lost by 8. We finished out perfect season - 0-17 - and now we move on to the Scurvy Dogs. No idea how we're going to be. We have a solid goalie in Charlie and five of us making the trip over from the Raiders: Jeff, Sheq, Chris D, Steph, and myself. All of us have improved over the course of the season. Our new guys are an unknown quantity - some who played in high school but not since; a couple of pond hockey players; and so on. We'll have our growing pains, like any expansion team does, but hopefully we'll be competitive. At the very least we'll have snazzy jerseys.
writing: 4 chapters rewritten/edited on my stupid book. It's been 4 years since I've seen these chapters and ye gods I've gotten better at writing. Or at least and deceiving myself to believe so. But these are rough.
Monday, March 24, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Get Over Myself
Just reworked a chapter which was nothing more than a barely veiled rant about my Practice Wife. Had no reason to be in a faction novel other than to be self-serving and to take shots at her. I must have been in a deep, dark place when i first wrote that. Sliced it from 1589 words to 617 and made it much more equitable and readable. Also less mortifying. Couldn't have been more 'poor me,look at what I went through.'
gah.
gah.
Monday, March 10, 2014
About Time
Started the first edit of my bloated novel's first draft. Well, second draft. And since I'm going over it again it's like a third draft. Whatever. I've taken the first step.
Hockey News: We can haz team. After being tossed aside like moldy old socks Sheq, Jeff, and I decided it was better to put together a team of our own than to go back in the free agent pool again. Also, it was better than whining. At this point we've got at least 12 skaters and a goalie, so we're a team. We're using the jerseys of some team called the Ice Pirates but after numerous jokes we decided to go with Scurvy Dogs instead, which is quite the unintentional homage to my wife. We have a playoff game Wednesday night and while a win is unlikely, it's not impossible - 2 weeks ago this team beat us 3-1. Sunday morning clinics have been helping me skate better and showing me how far I have to go to be a good player (hint: it's a loooooooooooong way). Took the Boy skating Saturday and he's getting more confident. He was done after a half-hour but I think he might do a little soloing soon.
Hockey News: We can haz team. After being tossed aside like moldy old socks Sheq, Jeff, and I decided it was better to put together a team of our own than to go back in the free agent pool again. Also, it was better than whining. At this point we've got at least 12 skaters and a goalie, so we're a team. We're using the jerseys of some team called the Ice Pirates but after numerous jokes we decided to go with Scurvy Dogs instead, which is quite the unintentional homage to my wife. We have a playoff game Wednesday night and while a win is unlikely, it's not impossible - 2 weeks ago this team beat us 3-1. Sunday morning clinics have been helping me skate better and showing me how far I have to go to be a good player (hint: it's a loooooooooooong way). Took the Boy skating Saturday and he's getting more confident. He was done after a half-hour but I think he might do a little soloing soon.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Dead Man Skating - Old man Learns Hockey Games #15 and #16
You may have noticed I didn't post an entry last week (and if you did, what the hell is wrong with you?). We did have a game, and it was probably the best we've played all season, but the day after it a few of us found out that the plan we'd had to move about 2/3rds of the team forward for next season was now the plan to move about half of the team forward for next season. It was explained as a numbers thing - the couple of friends they were going to join with became a couple of more, and they wanted the roster kept at 14, etc . That's not the vexing part - well, okay, it always stings a little to be the kid on the way nobody wants for kickball, but I've been playing for a handful of months and I can dig that. The irritating part is that we weren't told that this change had occurred and the only reason we found out, with under a month until rosters are due for next season, is because Sheq asked to see if we wanted to get jerseys ordered. It's one thing to get tossed on the trash heap, but it's another to have to call the garbage truck in a rush to haul you away as well.
So I was grouchy going into last week's game, determined to just sit quietly on the bench and play my role. Of course I couldn't do that, because I get too into the game and I can't stop myself from being a team player. I may grouse about blown assignments or too-long shifts but this is a likeable crew and I want to see us do well. It also helped that I was paired with a good defensive partner. Against Behind Bahrs, the team we'll face in the play-in game for the playoffs next week, we gave up an early goal when a clearing pass behind the net got picked off and stuffed in. That was the last goal Duffy and I would be on the ice for that wasn't one of ours. They got one off a screened point shot off a faceoff before we answered to draw back within 1. It was a faceoff in their zone, left circle, and the draw went to Sheq at left wing. I was all alone behind him at the point and would have loved the opportunity to flub the shot (which I had done in a particularly hysterical sequence that had Alex congratulating me for almost sticking the triple axel as I floundered about), so I started to yell in protest as he flicked it toward the net. It wasn't a shot, though - it was a pass. A goddamn perfect pass, a tape-to-tape pass - no, it was a hockey pass, and was easily dunked in for a goal. It was glorious and gorgeous. And we were in a game.
It stayed that way until the 3rd, where one of our D got caught too deep on a pinch and they slammed home the breakaway for the final score of 3-1. Still, we hung with these guys. I made my usual mistakes - not going to talk about the flubbed slapshot again - and I somehow became a puck magnet. I mean, I lost track of how many shots I blocked - 10? 15? I have no idea. My new pants came through, though. No new bruises and a sense of progress. Hell, I finished at Even for the game. That's some crazy shit right there.
This week's game was against a team with two 'way-too-good-to-be-in-this-division' players and we did our best to hold them down. I was paired with Duffy again and at one point we were +2. PLUS TWO. Imagine the madness. We'd gotten two quick-strike goals in about 20 second - the second was a laser-beam top-corner wrister from a guy who just came back from climbing a mountain in South America. You could see the little dude who leads the league in scoring chomping at the bit, and soon after he skated through everyone and made it 5-2. I ended up at a -1, which isn't horrible for a 9-2 final. We had another weird deflection goal to start the third, then I dove to stop a breakaway but as I lay tangled with the dude one of his teammates swooped in and put it home. The last goal was just a superior player blowing past both Tom and I with a full head of steam and finishing it off with a nice move. Sometimes you can't stop talent. I made my mistakes - at one point I read a hard-around and darted (okay, skated by at a pace faster than a crawl) by the defenseman who was waiting for it. There was nobody near me and I could have driven right for the net - but I missed the puck. Gah. Later I managed to get a wrister on net and thought I was getting an assist as one of our guys had a wide-open shot on the rebound, but he took too long and the goalie got over in time to stuff him. I was a little slow keeping up with their cutting, and Alex had to yell at me once for screening him, but it's all baby steps forward. After holding the Rebels to 4 and BB to 3 it didn't feel great to give up 9 to these guys, but that's what happened. No Sheq either, as he was home with the kids. Jeff showed up and continues to improve, even if he doesn't know it. So we're working on cobbling together another team, and we're close - wanna play? Let me know.
Writing: still editing other people's stuff, which gobbles up any and all free time. Getting close to finishing the first edit, which was son simple task - they're in the 90-100K range here. Good stuff, though. Very interesting. It'll be interesting to see what they think of the heavy, heavy editing I did.
So I was grouchy going into last week's game, determined to just sit quietly on the bench and play my role. Of course I couldn't do that, because I get too into the game and I can't stop myself from being a team player. I may grouse about blown assignments or too-long shifts but this is a likeable crew and I want to see us do well. It also helped that I was paired with a good defensive partner. Against Behind Bahrs, the team we'll face in the play-in game for the playoffs next week, we gave up an early goal when a clearing pass behind the net got picked off and stuffed in. That was the last goal Duffy and I would be on the ice for that wasn't one of ours. They got one off a screened point shot off a faceoff before we answered to draw back within 1. It was a faceoff in their zone, left circle, and the draw went to Sheq at left wing. I was all alone behind him at the point and would have loved the opportunity to flub the shot (which I had done in a particularly hysterical sequence that had Alex congratulating me for almost sticking the triple axel as I floundered about), so I started to yell in protest as he flicked it toward the net. It wasn't a shot, though - it was a pass. A goddamn perfect pass, a tape-to-tape pass - no, it was a hockey pass, and was easily dunked in for a goal. It was glorious and gorgeous. And we were in a game.
It stayed that way until the 3rd, where one of our D got caught too deep on a pinch and they slammed home the breakaway for the final score of 3-1. Still, we hung with these guys. I made my usual mistakes - not going to talk about the flubbed slapshot again - and I somehow became a puck magnet. I mean, I lost track of how many shots I blocked - 10? 15? I have no idea. My new pants came through, though. No new bruises and a sense of progress. Hell, I finished at Even for the game. That's some crazy shit right there.
This week's game was against a team with two 'way-too-good-to-be-in-this-division' players and we did our best to hold them down. I was paired with Duffy again and at one point we were +2. PLUS TWO. Imagine the madness. We'd gotten two quick-strike goals in about 20 second - the second was a laser-beam top-corner wrister from a guy who just came back from climbing a mountain in South America. You could see the little dude who leads the league in scoring chomping at the bit, and soon after he skated through everyone and made it 5-2. I ended up at a -1, which isn't horrible for a 9-2 final. We had another weird deflection goal to start the third, then I dove to stop a breakaway but as I lay tangled with the dude one of his teammates swooped in and put it home. The last goal was just a superior player blowing past both Tom and I with a full head of steam and finishing it off with a nice move. Sometimes you can't stop talent. I made my mistakes - at one point I read a hard-around and darted (okay, skated by at a pace faster than a crawl) by the defenseman who was waiting for it. There was nobody near me and I could have driven right for the net - but I missed the puck. Gah. Later I managed to get a wrister on net and thought I was getting an assist as one of our guys had a wide-open shot on the rebound, but he took too long and the goalie got over in time to stuff him. I was a little slow keeping up with their cutting, and Alex had to yell at me once for screening him, but it's all baby steps forward. After holding the Rebels to 4 and BB to 3 it didn't feel great to give up 9 to these guys, but that's what happened. No Sheq either, as he was home with the kids. Jeff showed up and continues to improve, even if he doesn't know it. So we're working on cobbling together another team, and we're close - wanna play? Let me know.
Writing: still editing other people's stuff, which gobbles up any and all free time. Getting close to finishing the first edit, which was son simple task - they're in the 90-100K range here. Good stuff, though. Very interesting. It'll be interesting to see what they think of the heavy, heavy editing I did.
Monday, February 17, 2014
The Hockey Equivalent of '70s Disco Hot Pants - Old Man Learns Hockey - Game #14
So there was a hockey game last night, and I'll get to that in good time. Jeff, Sheq and I hit the clinic in the morning because once you're over age 40 you really should make sure to schedule two strenuous activities in the same day. We were waiting for the Zamboni to finish up when one of the other guys, who had called my Not-Flight-to-Denver story the worst story ever (it kinda is, from a 'why the hell didn't I do that' standpoint), asked me why I was wearing goalie pants.
Now my hockey pants are hand-me-downs from my brother-in-law and they has always seems normal to me. Looking around, I noticed for the first time that everyone else's pants were streamlined and didn't look like a giant black diaper. We quickly determined that A) they weren't goalie pants at all but just really old, bulky pants, and B) they were short. Like, really short. Hockey equipment works like a big puzzle, with parts of one piece covering gaps left by another. I had a noticeable gap between the lowest pad on the pants and the top of my shinguards, but even with all the pucks I've blocked it hadn't been an issue. I laughed ruefully at my mawashi (look it up) and made a comment about how unlikely it would be for me to be hit in that small a space.
So, are you aware of my superpower? I feel that if I ever go Evil Villain it'll make me quite terrible, but for now I seem content using it to submarine myself. We call it 'Kitastrophying' and basically if I comment on something that's going well, it'll cease to do so. Hey, we haven't hit any traffic today. Boom. Bumper to bumper within minutes. Wow, doing this plumbing job has been easy so far! Boom. 2 inches of water on the bathroom floor. I do my best to use it for good, and woo boy you should see the glare I get when I accidentally Kitastrophe Laura.
So, superpower. I have worn the same hockey gear, including my short-shorts, through 14 full games and at least as many hour long clinics. I have blocked more shots than I can count and not once did I take a puck in the exposed area on my thigh.
Until last night. With great power comes great responsibility. Also, evidently, the ability to guide a hockey puck into unprotected flesh. There's a lump right now, with expectations of a truly spectacular bruise. I have ordered pants so that I can retire my relics and only be mocked for my lousy play. Speaking of which . . .
It was a scary match up on paper. The Rebels are tied for first and averaging a little over 6 goals a game, and the first time we played they beat us 7-1 and that was after they let up after punching in 5 goals in the first. We had a good number of players - 13 - and I was happy to volunteer to be one of the four defensemen. I'm not going to lie - I enjoy playing half the game as opposed to a third, and right now my body seems content to give me the energy to try to mask my lack of ability with extreme effort. And so I flung myself all over the ice, using diving as a way to try to counteract the other team skating circles around me. It was belly flop central but it worked to some degree, i think. It was a 1-0 after one, with the goal coming off a blown assignment and a deflection on an overlong shift. We just couldn't get off the ice. They got another goal in the second when their guy came out of the corner and roofed a shot - damn nice. In the third they added one off a scramble in front of the net and the last goal on a blistering wrist shot from the dot that got through Alex's five hole. And that was it. We took a team tied for first and only lost 4-0. Believe me, they didn't let up. Also believe me, while our team defense continues to improve much of the closeness of the game is because Alex is quite an excellent goalie. I can only imagine the offers he's getting from other teams trying to poach him. Let me put it this way - at one point, after a crazy ass clusterfuck in front of the net that saw Alex out of position and my defensive partner sprawled on the goalline with the puck under him, the other team was awarded a penalty shot. I dd not doubt, for a second, that Alex was going to stop him cold. Which he did. Not only is he good at his position, he's got great advice. I just try to keep learning. I handled some of the odd man rushes well, some not so well, and made some mistakes as usual. At least one bad clearing attempt, a missed pass, running into my teammate, that sort of stuff. No penalties, although I did some hooking and waged a constant war to shove their cadre of 225+ pound forwards out of the crease. As a whole we made strides - much better overall defensive play, although still some missed assignments. More confidence with the puck. Shifts are still too long in some cases, and at least one guy still doesn't seem to grasp how offsides works. We need to find the open players with passes more often, get the puck back to the point, develop an organized forecheck . . . the same problems every other team has. We're getting there, although the clock is ticking on the season. Two more games left before our playoff game, with a preview of whom we're playing coming this week. The goals will come in time as we sharpen up the other aspects of our game. I only wish we were playing a 60 game season instead of a 16 game one.
Now my hockey pants are hand-me-downs from my brother-in-law and they has always seems normal to me. Looking around, I noticed for the first time that everyone else's pants were streamlined and didn't look like a giant black diaper. We quickly determined that A) they weren't goalie pants at all but just really old, bulky pants, and B) they were short. Like, really short. Hockey equipment works like a big puzzle, with parts of one piece covering gaps left by another. I had a noticeable gap between the lowest pad on the pants and the top of my shinguards, but even with all the pucks I've blocked it hadn't been an issue. I laughed ruefully at my mawashi (look it up) and made a comment about how unlikely it would be for me to be hit in that small a space.
So, are you aware of my superpower? I feel that if I ever go Evil Villain it'll make me quite terrible, but for now I seem content using it to submarine myself. We call it 'Kitastrophying' and basically if I comment on something that's going well, it'll cease to do so. Hey, we haven't hit any traffic today. Boom. Bumper to bumper within minutes. Wow, doing this plumbing job has been easy so far! Boom. 2 inches of water on the bathroom floor. I do my best to use it for good, and woo boy you should see the glare I get when I accidentally Kitastrophe Laura.
So, superpower. I have worn the same hockey gear, including my short-shorts, through 14 full games and at least as many hour long clinics. I have blocked more shots than I can count and not once did I take a puck in the exposed area on my thigh.
Until last night. With great power comes great responsibility. Also, evidently, the ability to guide a hockey puck into unprotected flesh. There's a lump right now, with expectations of a truly spectacular bruise. I have ordered pants so that I can retire my relics and only be mocked for my lousy play. Speaking of which . . .
It was a scary match up on paper. The Rebels are tied for first and averaging a little over 6 goals a game, and the first time we played they beat us 7-1 and that was after they let up after punching in 5 goals in the first. We had a good number of players - 13 - and I was happy to volunteer to be one of the four defensemen. I'm not going to lie - I enjoy playing half the game as opposed to a third, and right now my body seems content to give me the energy to try to mask my lack of ability with extreme effort. And so I flung myself all over the ice, using diving as a way to try to counteract the other team skating circles around me. It was belly flop central but it worked to some degree, i think. It was a 1-0 after one, with the goal coming off a blown assignment and a deflection on an overlong shift. We just couldn't get off the ice. They got another goal in the second when their guy came out of the corner and roofed a shot - damn nice. In the third they added one off a scramble in front of the net and the last goal on a blistering wrist shot from the dot that got through Alex's five hole. And that was it. We took a team tied for first and only lost 4-0. Believe me, they didn't let up. Also believe me, while our team defense continues to improve much of the closeness of the game is because Alex is quite an excellent goalie. I can only imagine the offers he's getting from other teams trying to poach him. Let me put it this way - at one point, after a crazy ass clusterfuck in front of the net that saw Alex out of position and my defensive partner sprawled on the goalline with the puck under him, the other team was awarded a penalty shot. I dd not doubt, for a second, that Alex was going to stop him cold. Which he did. Not only is he good at his position, he's got great advice. I just try to keep learning. I handled some of the odd man rushes well, some not so well, and made some mistakes as usual. At least one bad clearing attempt, a missed pass, running into my teammate, that sort of stuff. No penalties, although I did some hooking and waged a constant war to shove their cadre of 225+ pound forwards out of the crease. As a whole we made strides - much better overall defensive play, although still some missed assignments. More confidence with the puck. Shifts are still too long in some cases, and at least one guy still doesn't seem to grasp how offsides works. We need to find the open players with passes more often, get the puck back to the point, develop an organized forecheck . . . the same problems every other team has. We're getting there, although the clock is ticking on the season. Two more games left before our playoff game, with a preview of whom we're playing coming this week. The goals will come in time as we sharpen up the other aspects of our game. I only wish we were playing a 60 game season instead of a 16 game one.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Following in the Footsteps of Nick Fotiu - Old Man Learns Hockey - Game #13
I hit the clinic Sunday morning - the HOCKEY clinic - and spent every chance I could either playing defense or honing my backward skating skills. The drills we did lent to that, and even before our game I had extra ice time to practice my forward to back spin, clearing the puck, and all sorts of important defenseman things.
Then I was told I was playing forward.
Which was fine, really. I don't care where I play and as we had a short bench - seven forwards, four defensemen - there was still plenty of ice time. We were playing a not-great team, carried by two excellent skaters and a couple of decent ones. I stepped on the ice for the first time just as they converted a two-on-one for a goal. Wonderful. Later in the period their big gun sped in and scored on a breakway, but that was it. In the second we had a few defensive breakdowns, and their 3rd and 4th goals came off rebound scrambles in front of our net. It felt weird to be sticking up by the blue line instead of shoving people away, but the defenseman was the aforementioned big gun and I wasn't leaving him alone. They punched another one in before the horn, but there was a lot more give and take - we were getting some chances and offensive pressure. In the third period, for whatever reason, we started to have more success. I was out there for a minute-long shift that was entirely in their zone - we stopped clearing attempts a few times, which was a nice reversal. I had not one but two shots on goal - a one-timer that he stonedwalled me on, and then the rebound that I lifted with a backhand hit the bottom of his glove, the top of his pad . . . and fell out. Rats.
I also tore the feet out from under someone and had the good graces not to even try to protest when the ref blew the play dead and sent me off. My first trip to the sin bin! Well, first to a hockey sin bin. I'm acquainted with the rugby version as well. Anyway, I now have an official stat.We killed off the penalty and a few minutes later, after more pressure, punched in a goal. Of course that annoyed the other team so their superstar skated through everyone and, although Charlie stopped the first shot, one of his teammates put back the rebound. 6-1 final. Not too bad.
As for me, I was my usual menagerie of hustle, mistakes, and so on. I wiped out and took out the net, I dug the puck off the boards and made a perfect, perfect cross-ice pass that should have been a one-timer but was muffed, and I yelled at one of my teammates for lining up for a faceoff after taking a two minute shift. Don't tell me you're 'okay.' The pros only take 45 second shifts, plus you're being a selfish tool to your teammates. If I have to be That Guy, I'll be That Guy. Otherwise, playing forward is fun and even if I was making a goal-causing mistake, it's not as obvious as when I bone it as a defenseman. The season is winding down - only four games left, unless we win our first playoff game. Stranger things could happen.
Then I was told I was playing forward.
Which was fine, really. I don't care where I play and as we had a short bench - seven forwards, four defensemen - there was still plenty of ice time. We were playing a not-great team, carried by two excellent skaters and a couple of decent ones. I stepped on the ice for the first time just as they converted a two-on-one for a goal. Wonderful. Later in the period their big gun sped in and scored on a breakway, but that was it. In the second we had a few defensive breakdowns, and their 3rd and 4th goals came off rebound scrambles in front of our net. It felt weird to be sticking up by the blue line instead of shoving people away, but the defenseman was the aforementioned big gun and I wasn't leaving him alone. They punched another one in before the horn, but there was a lot more give and take - we were getting some chances and offensive pressure. In the third period, for whatever reason, we started to have more success. I was out there for a minute-long shift that was entirely in their zone - we stopped clearing attempts a few times, which was a nice reversal. I had not one but two shots on goal - a one-timer that he stonedwalled me on, and then the rebound that I lifted with a backhand hit the bottom of his glove, the top of his pad . . . and fell out. Rats.
I also tore the feet out from under someone and had the good graces not to even try to protest when the ref blew the play dead and sent me off. My first trip to the sin bin! Well, first to a hockey sin bin. I'm acquainted with the rugby version as well. Anyway, I now have an official stat.We killed off the penalty and a few minutes later, after more pressure, punched in a goal. Of course that annoyed the other team so their superstar skated through everyone and, although Charlie stopped the first shot, one of his teammates put back the rebound. 6-1 final. Not too bad.
As for me, I was my usual menagerie of hustle, mistakes, and so on. I wiped out and took out the net, I dug the puck off the boards and made a perfect, perfect cross-ice pass that should have been a one-timer but was muffed, and I yelled at one of my teammates for lining up for a faceoff after taking a two minute shift. Don't tell me you're 'okay.' The pros only take 45 second shifts, plus you're being a selfish tool to your teammates. If I have to be That Guy, I'll be That Guy. Otherwise, playing forward is fun and even if I was making a goal-causing mistake, it's not as obvious as when I bone it as a defenseman. The season is winding down - only four games left, unless we win our first playoff game. Stranger things could happen.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Nobody Saw That, Right? Old Man Learns Hockey - Game #12
For the first 30 seconds, it was amazing. It was Lake Placid 1980 all over again. We took the opening faceoff, drove down the ice, and forced their goalie to make a good save before smothering the puck. Offensive pressure! Putting another team back on their heels! Old Time Hockey! Eddie Shore!
30 seconds later we were down 1-0.
Before I get into the details of our latest outing I should report that this game featured the stupidest play of my short hockey career. Not the most comically hysterical to watch, nor the most embarrassed by the skill of another player - those are separate categories. This was just pure boneheadedness. Playing right D, I outowrked one of their guys for a puck along the board near the circle in our zone. He was still between me and the blue line, so instead of doing almost anything else that would have been better, including curling into a ball on the ice and hugging the puck until it hatched into a bunch of little baby pucks, I did the dumbest - I made a blind backhand pass to the center of our zone, trusting that my defensive partner was there.
He was not. A guy from the other team was, though, and he blew a slapshot through poor Charlie from about 20 feet away. Ugh.
The final was 9-0, but I find it difficult to hang too much of this on us. The Titans are in 2nd place but to me seemed better than the team we played last week and thus vastly superior than us. They had several guys who were superlative skaters and would weave their way through our zone while we closed ranks and did what we could. I'm not happy with my outing at D, but then again I faced more 2 on 1 and 3 on 1 breaks than I can remember against guys who were literally skating circles around me. It helped that Goalie Alex (who will be just Alex today as Winger Alex was a no show. Jeff was out as well, exhausted from being in California to be presented with an award stating he's the best salesman since Ron Popeil. Trevor was out too, and we missed his steady presence as well) insisted we get a goalie to split games with and was there for advice the latter 20 minutes or so. It's good to know whether or not I did the right thing, regardless of the outcome. To wit:
- racing back on a 2 on zero break, I cut off the pass instead of making a late dive that might or might not have gotten me there in time. Ruling - RIGHT THING even though the guy roofed the puck for a goal
- going for the big rebound on another 2 on 1 after denying the pass - RIGHT THING but be a better player because I just missed it and the guy fromt he other team rammed it home (it was a BIG rebound)
- make a blind pass behind your back in your own zone WRONG THING STUPID
- try to lift one of their sticks and accidentally bury mine in the guy's groin, sending him to the ice in a heap RULES WRONG, BUT KINDA OKAY BECAUSE FUCK YOU FOR BEING IN THIS DIVISION, GUYS
And so it went. They were way too good to be in this division. We'd catch them deep and be on a 2 or 3 on 1 and by the time we got to their blue line they had 2 or 3 guys back, usually all over the puckcarrier. Our goalies (we brought back Charlie) did a fantastic job, and I don't think we took much of a step back, if any. As we had only 4 defense I played about half the game, and combined with a morning clinic I expected to be much more worn than I was. Whether it was a comment on my play or not one of the guys shifted to D for the last 5 minutes and I took a shift at left wing, which was fun and found me in the curious position of having dug the puck out of the corner in the offensive zone and . . . having everyone just kind of look at me. I think I checked for options for a good 5 seconds before trying to hit a cutting Tom (one of their D just deflected the pass) and maybe I should have tried to skate out and shoot, of toss it back to the point - it's kind of lost in the fog of memory. My teammates are amazingly patient with me as a defenseman, because it's got to be frustrating to see me make so many mistakes.
When the game was over a few of their guys were skating by and one of them said, 'Those guys never gave up, man. They kept going to the end.'
Fucking right we did, chief.
Final note: It might be nothing. It may have been a fluke. But, armed with confidence from a backwards crossover step last week and a fancy new edge on my blades, I hit the circle after the morning clinic but before the ice was flooded with 5 year olds who all skate better than me and dammit, I did a front crossover step. More than once. they weren't pretty but they were there. Before the other teams hit the ice for the game after us I did it again. Baby steps. Baby crossover steps, anyway.
30 seconds later we were down 1-0.
Before I get into the details of our latest outing I should report that this game featured the stupidest play of my short hockey career. Not the most comically hysterical to watch, nor the most embarrassed by the skill of another player - those are separate categories. This was just pure boneheadedness. Playing right D, I outowrked one of their guys for a puck along the board near the circle in our zone. He was still between me and the blue line, so instead of doing almost anything else that would have been better, including curling into a ball on the ice and hugging the puck until it hatched into a bunch of little baby pucks, I did the dumbest - I made a blind backhand pass to the center of our zone, trusting that my defensive partner was there.
He was not. A guy from the other team was, though, and he blew a slapshot through poor Charlie from about 20 feet away. Ugh.
The final was 9-0, but I find it difficult to hang too much of this on us. The Titans are in 2nd place but to me seemed better than the team we played last week and thus vastly superior than us. They had several guys who were superlative skaters and would weave their way through our zone while we closed ranks and did what we could. I'm not happy with my outing at D, but then again I faced more 2 on 1 and 3 on 1 breaks than I can remember against guys who were literally skating circles around me. It helped that Goalie Alex (who will be just Alex today as Winger Alex was a no show. Jeff was out as well, exhausted from being in California to be presented with an award stating he's the best salesman since Ron Popeil. Trevor was out too, and we missed his steady presence as well) insisted we get a goalie to split games with and was there for advice the latter 20 minutes or so. It's good to know whether or not I did the right thing, regardless of the outcome. To wit:
- racing back on a 2 on zero break, I cut off the pass instead of making a late dive that might or might not have gotten me there in time. Ruling - RIGHT THING even though the guy roofed the puck for a goal
- going for the big rebound on another 2 on 1 after denying the pass - RIGHT THING but be a better player because I just missed it and the guy fromt he other team rammed it home (it was a BIG rebound)
- make a blind pass behind your back in your own zone WRONG THING STUPID
- try to lift one of their sticks and accidentally bury mine in the guy's groin, sending him to the ice in a heap RULES WRONG, BUT KINDA OKAY BECAUSE FUCK YOU FOR BEING IN THIS DIVISION, GUYS
And so it went. They were way too good to be in this division. We'd catch them deep and be on a 2 or 3 on 1 and by the time we got to their blue line they had 2 or 3 guys back, usually all over the puckcarrier. Our goalies (we brought back Charlie) did a fantastic job, and I don't think we took much of a step back, if any. As we had only 4 defense I played about half the game, and combined with a morning clinic I expected to be much more worn than I was. Whether it was a comment on my play or not one of the guys shifted to D for the last 5 minutes and I took a shift at left wing, which was fun and found me in the curious position of having dug the puck out of the corner in the offensive zone and . . . having everyone just kind of look at me. I think I checked for options for a good 5 seconds before trying to hit a cutting Tom (one of their D just deflected the pass) and maybe I should have tried to skate out and shoot, of toss it back to the point - it's kind of lost in the fog of memory. My teammates are amazingly patient with me as a defenseman, because it's got to be frustrating to see me make so many mistakes.
When the game was over a few of their guys were skating by and one of them said, 'Those guys never gave up, man. They kept going to the end.'
Fucking right we did, chief.
Final note: It might be nothing. It may have been a fluke. But, armed with confidence from a backwards crossover step last week and a fancy new edge on my blades, I hit the circle after the morning clinic but before the ice was flooded with 5 year olds who all skate better than me and dammit, I did a front crossover step. More than once. they weren't pretty but they were there. Before the other teams hit the ice for the game after us I did it again. Baby steps. Baby crossover steps, anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)