This game probably fits under the category of "the less said, the better", but I want to chronicle all of them, so I have to say something. And I will say this- yes, it was an ugly loss (5-2 with an empty netter) and yes it was a TEAM loss (something I had drilled into my head in the locker room afterwards, probably deservingly), but I am frustrated with the fact that I keep making the same mistake over and over again. I think my problem might be overthinking things. I know from my own assessment and from other peoples' observations that I tend to go down too early, and I think in trying to correct that I'm forcing myself to stay up longer, which causes me to freeze for a split second. That split second would be better spent in initiating a drop, because before I know it the puck has gone past me- through the dreaded 5-hole.
My stance is naturally low and wide- this works well for a butterfly goalie, but is not a good tactic for someone who is going to stay standing longer. And I think therein lies the problem. Do I change my stance so that my legs are closer together while standing? But that will affect how quickly and how well I get into the butterfly. I think I should watch some game tapes from last season and see how King Henrik does it. After all, I have many of his tendencies. I never started out saying to myself "I want to pattern my play after Henrik Lundqvist", but it seems natural that the goalie I spend the most time watching would have the most influence on my own style.
As the Cool Old Guy pointed out this weekend, I play deep in my crease like he does. I was quick to add that I also have no ability to handle the puck- just like the King. He tends to drop early, as do I, and his stance is low and wide, as is mine. I feel like a total homer, but if you're going to emulate someone you could certainly do worse, right?
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Old guys rule
This weekend my dad told me about some t-shirts he saw that said "Old Guys Rule" over the front pocket area, and on the back had clever slogans like "The older I get, the better I was" or "On permanent vacation". If I could make a hockey jersey with that phrase on it, and give it to someone, I'd give it to the guy I met this morning at open hockey.
"Our" rink has recently added a Sunday morning open hockey at 6:30 a.m. Since no one in their right mind would get up that early on a weekend to play open hockey, the only people that showed up were 6 other Hawks (besides me), and another goalie none of us had ever met before. He wrote "Harry" on the sign-in sheet, but introduced himself as "Mark", leading to some speculation that perhaps he was a Harry Potter fan.
Being the shy person that I am, I didn't talk to him at all in the locker room. (No one talked to anyone, it was much to early for banter). I didn't even talk to him much on the ice until our first break. With so few skaters, we played 3 on 3, which wore everyone out quite quickly. But during the first break he was kind of standing around, and so I broke the ice by asking how long he'd been playing. He looked to be in his 40's or 50's, so I figured it had been a while, but I wasn't prepared for the answer I got: 38 years. This guy has been playing hockey for longer than I've been alive. What was really interesting about him was because he'd played his best years and was trained so long ago, the butterfly is not in his arsenal of save tactics. In fact, he confessed that he couldn't even get into a butterfly if he tried. During the next "shift" I watched him more closely. He was deadly with a poke check; no one could even get close. And he used the flashy but rarely seen 2-pad-stack quite a bit as well. But not one butterfly. Not even a half a butterfly.
During the next several breaks, we talked shop. He'd probably hate to know this, but it was kind of like watching and talking to a relic. No one plays like that anymore; not that it's a bad way to play, but styles have changed. And since I didn't watch the goalies as closely when I was a teenager, it's only been since Roy revolutionized goaltending that I've really been paying attention, so I haven't seen a pure 100% standup goalie before. There are goalies in the NHL (Brodeur for example) who don't rely on the butterfly as much, but they do use it. Watching this guy was like looking back in time, and I was fascinated.
A lot of hybrid-style goalies look down on butterfly goalies. The style does have it's weaknesses, but so does any style. But Harry-Mark was supportive and encouraged me. He even said he liked that I was so strong in that style, that you had to play that way these days. He gave me a few pointers, suggested that I come out a little farther, and showed me the importance of staying low and keeping your stick on the ice. "You're on your way," he said. "You really have your angles down." Glee!!!
He gave me a lot to think about, and I think that had a negative effect on my game in that I was overthinking my responses to situations. But, as Goalie Husband pointed out, open hockey is the place to practice that stuff. Harry-Mark left about 15 minutes early, but when he left he said something like "I'll see you guys again", or something along those lines. It was obvious he was above our level, but he was helpful to other people besides just me, so it would be nice to have him around again.
"Our" rink has recently added a Sunday morning open hockey at 6:30 a.m. Since no one in their right mind would get up that early on a weekend to play open hockey, the only people that showed up were 6 other Hawks (besides me), and another goalie none of us had ever met before. He wrote "Harry" on the sign-in sheet, but introduced himself as "Mark", leading to some speculation that perhaps he was a Harry Potter fan.
Being the shy person that I am, I didn't talk to him at all in the locker room. (No one talked to anyone, it was much to early for banter). I didn't even talk to him much on the ice until our first break. With so few skaters, we played 3 on 3, which wore everyone out quite quickly. But during the first break he was kind of standing around, and so I broke the ice by asking how long he'd been playing. He looked to be in his 40's or 50's, so I figured it had been a while, but I wasn't prepared for the answer I got: 38 years. This guy has been playing hockey for longer than I've been alive. What was really interesting about him was because he'd played his best years and was trained so long ago, the butterfly is not in his arsenal of save tactics. In fact, he confessed that he couldn't even get into a butterfly if he tried. During the next "shift" I watched him more closely. He was deadly with a poke check; no one could even get close. And he used the flashy but rarely seen 2-pad-stack quite a bit as well. But not one butterfly. Not even a half a butterfly.
During the next several breaks, we talked shop. He'd probably hate to know this, but it was kind of like watching and talking to a relic. No one plays like that anymore; not that it's a bad way to play, but styles have changed. And since I didn't watch the goalies as closely when I was a teenager, it's only been since Roy revolutionized goaltending that I've really been paying attention, so I haven't seen a pure 100% standup goalie before. There are goalies in the NHL (Brodeur for example) who don't rely on the butterfly as much, but they do use it. Watching this guy was like looking back in time, and I was fascinated.
A lot of hybrid-style goalies look down on butterfly goalies. The style does have it's weaknesses, but so does any style. But Harry-Mark was supportive and encouraged me. He even said he liked that I was so strong in that style, that you had to play that way these days. He gave me a few pointers, suggested that I come out a little farther, and showed me the importance of staying low and keeping your stick on the ice. "You're on your way," he said. "You really have your angles down." Glee!!!
He gave me a lot to think about, and I think that had a negative effect on my game in that I was overthinking my responses to situations. But, as Goalie Husband pointed out, open hockey is the place to practice that stuff. Harry-Mark left about 15 minutes early, but when he left he said something like "I'll see you guys again", or something along those lines. It was obvious he was above our level, but he was helpful to other people besides just me, so it would be nice to have him around again.
Growing pains
I knew, as soon as I answered that insistent voice deep inside that demanded I get onto the ice, that I would have a hard decision to make at some point. I put it off as long as I could, but I think the time has come where I have to face the fact that I need to choose between roller hockey and ice hockey.
On Thursday night, I played outdoor roller hockey for the first time in about three weeks. I was really looking forward to it, because there are several people that play pretty much strictly roller, who I haven't seen in a while because I've been playing so much ice. When I first started playing ice, I said I would still play in our Sunday morning roller games, because I like the group and the atmosphere so much. And at that point, I either didn't play as much ice, or wasn't as comfortable on it, and switching back and forth posed no problem. But on Thursday night it became very clear to me that trying to do both will only hurt my game in both in the long run.
After three weeks away from wheels and cement, my body forgot the physics of the situation, and that wheels don't slide sideways across cement like a skate blade does on ice. I'd have a skater bearing down on me, and I would instinctively try to push my foot to the side- only, nothing would happen. Except for the puck going past me and into the net. Just moving around in the crease in general felt so awkward. It's interesting that I'd been thinking to myself even days before "I want to get to the point on ice where I'm as comfortable as I am on wheels". Well, I suppose I have gotten to that point without even realizing it. Because I felt like a fish out of water on Thursday.
A lot of our ice guys came out for the roller game, and though they had a bit of adjusting to do, by all accounts they really enjoyed it. Not so much for me. I face the very real possibility of getting hurt trying to do something I'd do on ice, on the pavement. The differences between roller and ice are so much more pronounced for a goalie.
So now I have to face the fact that I will probably be drifting away from the roller group. I hate that it's happening, but I feel like it has to be either one or the other for me. I will try another roller game and see how it goes, but I think this is not an uncommon decision to have to make. I was advised by several people on a hockey message board that going back and forth just doesn't work. At first I thought they were wrong- I wasn't having any problem with it! But now I have to grudgingly admit that they were right. I'll miss the guys at the outdoor rink. I'm sure I'll show up now and then, but it's certainly not going to be a weekly thing like it had been for me.
On Thursday night, I played outdoor roller hockey for the first time in about three weeks. I was really looking forward to it, because there are several people that play pretty much strictly roller, who I haven't seen in a while because I've been playing so much ice. When I first started playing ice, I said I would still play in our Sunday morning roller games, because I like the group and the atmosphere so much. And at that point, I either didn't play as much ice, or wasn't as comfortable on it, and switching back and forth posed no problem. But on Thursday night it became very clear to me that trying to do both will only hurt my game in both in the long run.
After three weeks away from wheels and cement, my body forgot the physics of the situation, and that wheels don't slide sideways across cement like a skate blade does on ice. I'd have a skater bearing down on me, and I would instinctively try to push my foot to the side- only, nothing would happen. Except for the puck going past me and into the net. Just moving around in the crease in general felt so awkward. It's interesting that I'd been thinking to myself even days before "I want to get to the point on ice where I'm as comfortable as I am on wheels". Well, I suppose I have gotten to that point without even realizing it. Because I felt like a fish out of water on Thursday.
A lot of our ice guys came out for the roller game, and though they had a bit of adjusting to do, by all accounts they really enjoyed it. Not so much for me. I face the very real possibility of getting hurt trying to do something I'd do on ice, on the pavement. The differences between roller and ice are so much more pronounced for a goalie.
So now I have to face the fact that I will probably be drifting away from the roller group. I hate that it's happening, but I feel like it has to be either one or the other for me. I will try another roller game and see how it goes, but I think this is not an uncommon decision to have to make. I was advised by several people on a hockey message board that going back and forth just doesn't work. At first I thought they were wrong- I wasn't having any problem with it! But now I have to grudgingly admit that they were right. I'll miss the guys at the outdoor rink. I'm sure I'll show up now and then, but it's certainly not going to be a weekly thing like it had been for me.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Post Script
I got so caught up in thinking about weird habits that I forgot to mention the outcome of the game. We tied, 4-4. On the whole, our team didn't have a great game. However, I thought I played really well, particularly in the 2nd period when for some reason I faced a lot of breakaways. On one of them, I made the best save I think I've ever made. The shooter was coming in on my left, but started to move across me to my right, and at that point seemed close enough that if I dropped down I'd have the best chance of making the save, but I kept my glove hand stretched out and up high... and viola! The most awesome glove save I've ever made! In my mind it looked like this:
Even though in reality I wasn't looking at my glove like I should have been, nor was I anywhere near that poised, but that's how it felt. And realizing I had the puck in my glove and bringing it quickly to my chest felt even better. Awww yeah, #16... I don't think so!!! ;)
Even though in reality I wasn't looking at my glove like I should have been, nor was I anywhere near that poised, but that's how it felt. And realizing I had the puck in my glove and bringing it quickly to my chest felt even better. Awww yeah, #16... I don't think so!!! ;)
Summer Season Game 3 - The Matinee
Most of the Red Hawks' games have been quite late at night, with the earliest ever being 8:20pm, and it was only one game at that. This season we managed to swing two early games, with a 7:30 pm faceoff. Most people would be thrilled with this quirk in the schedule. But I am not most people.
I've developed into a routine of sorts with these games. Come home from work, crash for about 20 minutes, eat, pack the gear, and head out. Or, if it's a very late game, like 10 or 11pm, hang around for a bit, then head out. Regardless of who drives, the 40 minute trip gives me time to listen to a favorite CD and zone out a bit, which allows me to focus. But this.... this 7:30 business is something different entirely! Because I work close to the arena, it didn't make sense to go home and then come back (nor would I have the time to do that). So I had to amend my routine, which made me a little jumpy, and it got me thinking about all those supposed "weird quirks" that goalies have.
I think the days of the truly nutty goaltender are over, thanks to the advent of masks and superior quality protective equipment. Now you don't have to be insane to stand in front of speeding pucks. Gone are the days of goalies knitting caps or completely stripping out of gear and clothes and showering, only to re-clothe and re-gear themselves, all in the 15 minute break between periods. Sure, goalies are still probably a little more superstitious than the average joe on the whole, but standing on an empty bench meditating minutes before the game, or spending time sitting in empty seats in the arena and taping your stick are pretty calm and almost make sense in comparison to those older whackjobs.
Sometimes it seems that people think you have to have strange habits or compulsions to be a goaltender. On one message board where I was talking to some young women just starting out, I actually read a post by one of them that said something like "oh I'm sure I'll have all kinds of really weird superstitions!". I didn't even bother to point out that it doesn't work like that. You don't go into it looking for something to make you "kooky". I think what it boils down to is comfort and reassurance - just like my routine for late night games has become something familiar and comforting for me. I have a mantra of sorts, that I keep running through my head during games. It's not because I think it has magical properties or will make me play better in and of itself, but it helps me focus because it takes the blabbering, wandering part of my brain and gives it something to do while the rest of my brain can focus on the task at hand. If my mind doesn't start wandering to the last save or goal, or jumping ahead to the next period, or even going so far astray as to wonder about what I'll have to eat when I get home, then it can't distract me. If it's busy mumbling a memorized set of words, then I don't have to worry about psyching myself out over an opponent's obvious skill.
That's really all it's about. And listening to particular songs in the car on the ride there get me in the groove and start the process of focusing. But come on.... even if I did do something really bizarre, you don't think I'd tell you, do you? I mean, that would just flat out be bad luck!
I've developed into a routine of sorts with these games. Come home from work, crash for about 20 minutes, eat, pack the gear, and head out. Or, if it's a very late game, like 10 or 11pm, hang around for a bit, then head out. Regardless of who drives, the 40 minute trip gives me time to listen to a favorite CD and zone out a bit, which allows me to focus. But this.... this 7:30 business is something different entirely! Because I work close to the arena, it didn't make sense to go home and then come back (nor would I have the time to do that). So I had to amend my routine, which made me a little jumpy, and it got me thinking about all those supposed "weird quirks" that goalies have.
I think the days of the truly nutty goaltender are over, thanks to the advent of masks and superior quality protective equipment. Now you don't have to be insane to stand in front of speeding pucks. Gone are the days of goalies knitting caps or completely stripping out of gear and clothes and showering, only to re-clothe and re-gear themselves, all in the 15 minute break between periods. Sure, goalies are still probably a little more superstitious than the average joe on the whole, but standing on an empty bench meditating minutes before the game, or spending time sitting in empty seats in the arena and taping your stick are pretty calm and almost make sense in comparison to those older whackjobs.
Sometimes it seems that people think you have to have strange habits or compulsions to be a goaltender. On one message board where I was talking to some young women just starting out, I actually read a post by one of them that said something like "oh I'm sure I'll have all kinds of really weird superstitions!". I didn't even bother to point out that it doesn't work like that. You don't go into it looking for something to make you "kooky". I think what it boils down to is comfort and reassurance - just like my routine for late night games has become something familiar and comforting for me. I have a mantra of sorts, that I keep running through my head during games. It's not because I think it has magical properties or will make me play better in and of itself, but it helps me focus because it takes the blabbering, wandering part of my brain and gives it something to do while the rest of my brain can focus on the task at hand. If my mind doesn't start wandering to the last save or goal, or jumping ahead to the next period, or even going so far astray as to wonder about what I'll have to eat when I get home, then it can't distract me. If it's busy mumbling a memorized set of words, then I don't have to worry about psyching myself out over an opponent's obvious skill.
That's really all it's about. And listening to particular songs in the car on the ride there get me in the groove and start the process of focusing. But come on.... even if I did do something really bizarre, you don't think I'd tell you, do you? I mean, that would just flat out be bad luck!
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Lesson learned- the hard way
When I went to Goalie Coach Dude for my lesson several months ago, one of the things we worked on were something called "T-pushes"; a way to glide a longer distance than just a side-to-side shuffle. This involves pushing off with one foot and putting all your weight on the other as you glide to one side, and then quickly snap that foot forward, bringing yourself to a concise stop. One way to practice these is to completely lift your non-weightbearing foot off the ice, to hone your sense of balance, and skate and stop all on one leg, like a very awkward and confused flamingo. When the other goalie and I looked dubious, he encouraged us to try it. "Don't be afraid to fall," he said. "You have plenty of padding on." And fall I did. But I could instantly see the benefit. Not only would that exercise improve that particular technique, it would improve my balance as well.
Most of the time that I go to open hockey, it's very busy. However, now and then there will be an odd session with only enough people for 3-on-2 on one side of the ice, or just messing around taking shots, etc. During those sessions I usually go off to one side and work a little on my footwork, still trying to get to the comfort level on ice skates that I have on roller blades. This morning was one of those times; only 4 people beside me were there, with a 5th showing up about a half hour into it.
Normally, I'm a stickler for safety, especially with helmets. Watching one's husband get several concussions tends to do this to a person, but I'm also aware that head injuries are the kinds of things that can happen to anyone, no matter how good a skater, and can have life-altering consequences, unlike a sprained knee or wrist. Unfortunately for some reason during a water break I'd taken my glove, blocker and mask off and was still skating around on the ice. Even more unfortunately I decided that moment was a good one to try out the one-legged T-push exercise. The first one went off without a hitch. The second one... well, as my legs went out from under me I heard Goalie Coach Dude's voice in my head saying "Don't be afraid to fall.. you've got plenty of-" Uh oh. I landed on my butt and back and the momentum brought the back of my head down onto the ice with a hard, dull "thwack".
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain and instant nausea and rolled over onto my stomach as Goalie Husband rushed off the bench to my side. He asked if I was ok and I said no, but managed to convey that relatively speaking yes, I was ok, and pulled myself up onto my knees to demonstrate. The nausea receded and my head hurt like hell but I didn't have any dizziness or other concussive symptoms, so I sat on the bench for a moment and relaxed before heading back out onto the ice. With my mask on. Not only was I an idiot for skating around without my mask, but I was really asking for trouble by attempting that particular exercise. I don't know what I was thinking. Obviously, I wasn't. Thankfully I wasn't hurt, but it knocked enough sense into me to know that I'll be wearing my mask anytime I step on the ice again. Take note, kids.
Most of the time that I go to open hockey, it's very busy. However, now and then there will be an odd session with only enough people for 3-on-2 on one side of the ice, or just messing around taking shots, etc. During those sessions I usually go off to one side and work a little on my footwork, still trying to get to the comfort level on ice skates that I have on roller blades. This morning was one of those times; only 4 people beside me were there, with a 5th showing up about a half hour into it.
Normally, I'm a stickler for safety, especially with helmets. Watching one's husband get several concussions tends to do this to a person, but I'm also aware that head injuries are the kinds of things that can happen to anyone, no matter how good a skater, and can have life-altering consequences, unlike a sprained knee or wrist. Unfortunately for some reason during a water break I'd taken my glove, blocker and mask off and was still skating around on the ice. Even more unfortunately I decided that moment was a good one to try out the one-legged T-push exercise. The first one went off without a hitch. The second one... well, as my legs went out from under me I heard Goalie Coach Dude's voice in my head saying "Don't be afraid to fall.. you've got plenty of-" Uh oh. I landed on my butt and back and the momentum brought the back of my head down onto the ice with a hard, dull "thwack".
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain and instant nausea and rolled over onto my stomach as Goalie Husband rushed off the bench to my side. He asked if I was ok and I said no, but managed to convey that relatively speaking yes, I was ok, and pulled myself up onto my knees to demonstrate. The nausea receded and my head hurt like hell but I didn't have any dizziness or other concussive symptoms, so I sat on the bench for a moment and relaxed before heading back out onto the ice. With my mask on. Not only was I an idiot for skating around without my mask, but I was really asking for trouble by attempting that particular exercise. I don't know what I was thinking. Obviously, I wasn't. Thankfully I wasn't hurt, but it knocked enough sense into me to know that I'll be wearing my mask anytime I step on the ice again. Take note, kids.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Tennis, anyone?
Goalie Husband and I were getting pretty antsy last night, not having played any hockey since Monday. No doubt inspired by a conversation we'd had with Senator a few nights prior, Goalie Husband got the idea to root out his old rackets from whichever dark corner of the basement they were hiding and head up to the tennis courts at the park near our house. We had a can of tennis balls, which I'd bought with the intent of perfecting my hand-eye coordination by throwing them against a wall and catching them. I did that a few times, and I did see how it would be beneficial, but I never kept up with it, much to my virtual goalie coach's chagrin.
It was getting close to dusk, but we walked up to the park anyway, and I started to get that nervous feeling I always get when I try something new. "I hope no one else is there," I said. "Oh no, there's houses right across from the courts! They can all see us!", I fretted. Goalie Husband told me to knock it off, and showed me how to hold the racket. It felt totally foreign in my hand, despite having played tennis for a few weeks in summer school when I was about 12 years old. And I was dreadful. At least I could actually make contact with the ball (most of the time), but the finer points of where and how to hit it obviously take some practice and the ball went wildly all over the place. I was very frustrated and embarrassed, sure that the people across the street were pointing out their windows (from behind the curtains) and laughing. But I eventually loosened up, and we even managed to volley the ball back and forth a few times before it went out of bounds and into the neighboring court.... or over the fence.
By then however, it was getting pretty dark, and the half-light was playing tricks with our depth perception. It wasn't much of a workout, because we weren't really trying particularly hard, but it was a good experience and I think we'll probably keep at it. It's something a little different that will keep us active and help with hockey. I certainly won't be abandoning my goalie gear for a cute little white skirt, but it will be something we can do on a moment's notice, since we live so close to the courts.
That said.... I'm dying for some ice time. Thankfully there's open hockey tonight. We're going to a different rink than the one we usually go to, and by all accounts, it'll be a very fast game. I hope I can keep my head above water and manage to do all right and keep on racking up experience and practice.
It was getting close to dusk, but we walked up to the park anyway, and I started to get that nervous feeling I always get when I try something new. "I hope no one else is there," I said. "Oh no, there's houses right across from the courts! They can all see us!", I fretted. Goalie Husband told me to knock it off, and showed me how to hold the racket. It felt totally foreign in my hand, despite having played tennis for a few weeks in summer school when I was about 12 years old. And I was dreadful. At least I could actually make contact with the ball (most of the time), but the finer points of where and how to hit it obviously take some practice and the ball went wildly all over the place. I was very frustrated and embarrassed, sure that the people across the street were pointing out their windows (from behind the curtains) and laughing. But I eventually loosened up, and we even managed to volley the ball back and forth a few times before it went out of bounds and into the neighboring court.... or over the fence.
By then however, it was getting pretty dark, and the half-light was playing tricks with our depth perception. It wasn't much of a workout, because we weren't really trying particularly hard, but it was a good experience and I think we'll probably keep at it. It's something a little different that will keep us active and help with hockey. I certainly won't be abandoning my goalie gear for a cute little white skirt, but it will be something we can do on a moment's notice, since we live so close to the courts.
That said.... I'm dying for some ice time. Thankfully there's open hockey tonight. We're going to a different rink than the one we usually go to, and by all accounts, it'll be a very fast game. I hope I can keep my head above water and manage to do all right and keep on racking up experience and practice.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Summer Season Game 2 - The Natives Get Restless
The Red Hawks' second outing resulted in another win (8-5) that even though was against a more equal opponent, still left several team members feeling not quite right. Cap (who's nickname comes in reference to his favorite player, Mats Sundin) waited until most of the team was gone, and only a few of us from the original roller hockey group remained, to vent his concerns. His were the same as mine- we were starting to feel a little uneasy, like we had too many "ringers" on the team. The fact is, we only have 3, when other teams have probably 2. I think what makes the difference is our chemistry. Not only have we bonded as a team, we PLAY like one, looking for open players to pass to, making the right play instead of the selfish one (most of the time), and our Saturday morning practices seem to be paying off as well.
We've played two games, and each time racked up a bunch of goals in the first period, only to give some back towards the middle of the game. The first game, this was more the fault of the "coach" than of the team getting lazy. But last week, the momentum shifted and we suddenly weren't as strong in either end. Yes, we have two "W's" on the scoresheet. But what bothers me is that we had 5 goals against in each of those games. Some were the result of outright stupidity on my part, or poor positioning. But some were rebounds, and some were just really good goals. If I can cut down on the ones that are blatant mistakes on my part, I think we'll do a lot better in that regard.
Our next game is an early one, at 7:30pm. Because of the convenient time, we'll probably have a few fans in attendance. Hopefully, we'll continue our winning streak, and not end up eating a big slice of humble pie in front of our friends and family.
We've played two games, and each time racked up a bunch of goals in the first period, only to give some back towards the middle of the game. The first game, this was more the fault of the "coach" than of the team getting lazy. But last week, the momentum shifted and we suddenly weren't as strong in either end. Yes, we have two "W's" on the scoresheet. But what bothers me is that we had 5 goals against in each of those games. Some were the result of outright stupidity on my part, or poor positioning. But some were rebounds, and some were just really good goals. If I can cut down on the ones that are blatant mistakes on my part, I think we'll do a lot better in that regard.
Our next game is an early one, at 7:30pm. Because of the convenient time, we'll probably have a few fans in attendance. Hopefully, we'll continue our winning streak, and not end up eating a big slice of humble pie in front of our friends and family.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Summer Season- Game 1
(Written 7/3/07)
The Hawks, renamed for the summer season as the "Red Hawks" (wow that was a tough one to come up with) had our first game of the summer season last night. Though it was a decisive win (10-4), there wasn't much jubilation in the locker room afterwards. Our opponents had such a short bench that they only had 2 subs. Apparently, their missing players were also their best ones. Had they had their full complement of players, it would have been a much closer and more interesting game.
But, things being as they were, we steamrolled them. I was actually pretty bored for most of the game, though the long stretches of inactivity allowed me to attempt to dull my recently-sharpened skate blades. (I had them done at 5/8ths, which I've had done the last three times I've had them sharpened. But they must have been cut deeper, because the edges were so sharp I couldn't slide from side to side.) We were up either 6-0 or 7-0, at this point I don't remember, in the 2nd period when a screened shot got past me. And from there things seemed to go downhill. At one point they'd come back to the tune of 7-4, which I just couldn't understand. How was it that this team, with only two subs, was coming back to beat us at the end of the game? It just didn't make sense.
I got my clarification after the game- apparently in the 2nd period our "coach" for the night instructed the team to stop shooting, in order to salvage the ego of the opposing goalie. He was adamant about this tack, even though Goalie Husband protested and pointed out that it was more embarrassing to be playing against a team that wasn't trying. Understandably, our game suffered from that point on, with players not quite sure how to handle backing off in one end, and hustling in the other. Three more goals piled up, and then our guys turned the jets back on again.
Even more confusing was our final goal (scored by #14) to make it a double-digit game. It came with about 6 seconds left on the clock, but the clock didn't stop and the ref dropped the puck, with everyone kind of unsure of what was going on, including me. An opponent's light shot from somewhere around center ice ended up behind me and in the net as the buzzer sounded. I'd gone down for it, but I was slightly too late. That really bugged me, as did the fact that a team who played as poorly as they did got 5 goals (or even 4, if you don't count that one) off us. Off me. I felt I'd played an awful game. I have no idea how many shots I had, but it couldn't have been more than ten. Wonderful way to start the season... but as I told Senator, it counts the same in the standings as a come-from-behind-win, so we best put it behind us and get ready to face our next opponents.
The Hawks, renamed for the summer season as the "Red Hawks" (wow that was a tough one to come up with) had our first game of the summer season last night. Though it was a decisive win (10-4), there wasn't much jubilation in the locker room afterwards. Our opponents had such a short bench that they only had 2 subs. Apparently, their missing players were also their best ones. Had they had their full complement of players, it would have been a much closer and more interesting game.
But, things being as they were, we steamrolled them. I was actually pretty bored for most of the game, though the long stretches of inactivity allowed me to attempt to dull my recently-sharpened skate blades. (I had them done at 5/8ths, which I've had done the last three times I've had them sharpened. But they must have been cut deeper, because the edges were so sharp I couldn't slide from side to side.) We were up either 6-0 or 7-0, at this point I don't remember, in the 2nd period when a screened shot got past me. And from there things seemed to go downhill. At one point they'd come back to the tune of 7-4, which I just couldn't understand. How was it that this team, with only two subs, was coming back to beat us at the end of the game? It just didn't make sense.
I got my clarification after the game- apparently in the 2nd period our "coach" for the night instructed the team to stop shooting, in order to salvage the ego of the opposing goalie. He was adamant about this tack, even though Goalie Husband protested and pointed out that it was more embarrassing to be playing against a team that wasn't trying. Understandably, our game suffered from that point on, with players not quite sure how to handle backing off in one end, and hustling in the other. Three more goals piled up, and then our guys turned the jets back on again.
Even more confusing was our final goal (scored by #14) to make it a double-digit game. It came with about 6 seconds left on the clock, but the clock didn't stop and the ref dropped the puck, with everyone kind of unsure of what was going on, including me. An opponent's light shot from somewhere around center ice ended up behind me and in the net as the buzzer sounded. I'd gone down for it, but I was slightly too late. That really bugged me, as did the fact that a team who played as poorly as they did got 5 goals (or even 4, if you don't count that one) off us. Off me. I felt I'd played an awful game. I have no idea how many shots I had, but it couldn't have been more than ten. Wonderful way to start the season... but as I told Senator, it counts the same in the standings as a come-from-behind-win, so we best put it behind us and get ready to face our next opponents.
Sometimes you just have to cut your losses
(Written 6/23/07)
I've always said (to myself, not that anyone else could hear me mutter behind my mask) that I would never quit a pick-up game because I was sucking. What I did last night comes close to that, though there were mitigating circumstances.
Desperate for some hockey after playing only on Monday this week, I went to a local rink for some open ice hockey on Friday night. I'd been to that rink before for open hockey on a Saturday night, and I was in way over my head skillwise. Still, I stuck it out, because that's how you learn. There were 3 other goalies that night, so I rotated 20 minutes in and 20 minutes out with a goalie on my side. This gave me a break from the confidence-shattering shots and the skaters a break from a crappy goalie. As much as I know I was nowhere near the level of play that night, I did enjoy myself for the most part, and by the end of the night I was holding my own.
The difference last night was the attitude of the players. Not towards me in particular, just in general. After an hour and a half, the ice was shitty and the attitudes just as bad. I decided to pack it in when I rotated out for a break. There were two other goalies, so I wasn't leaving my side without a goalie. And there was about 40 minutes left to play- I'm sure my replacement was happy to play all 40 of those minutes, he was quite good. The play had started getting awfully chippy, physically. I noticed on more than one occasion deliberate attempts to trip or otherwise entangle, all on the part of one or two guys on the dark team. But the thing that disgusted me the most was one of those same guys mocking a newer skater. One of the guys on the white team is new to ice and hasn't quite got his stride down yet. He skates with his ankles bent inwards (disaster waiting to happen, there) and sort of runs more than skates. He's new. He'll learn. Honestly he probably didn't belong there last night and neither did I, but he was there and that's no reason for him to be mocked. We're all adults, aren't we? (Apparently not). This fucknut on the dark team stole the puck from him and skated in towards the goalie, with the new guy in pursuit. The asshole actually changed his skating stride in an imitation of the new guy's stride. He got a shot off, and some people laughed, but I distinctly heard a few people call him an asshole. Good.
That left a real bad taste in my mouth, and when I got back out on the ice and was in the net with the constant 2-on-0's and odd-man rushes, the puck went past me more times than not. These guys had some insanely powerful slapshots, which my left inner thigh can attest to with a deep bruise the size of a puck (and growing). I think they were just too quick for me. And the ice by that time resembled the quality of the ice we played on outdoors after an hour or so- about a half inch of "snow" covering just about all of it. Not to mention the deep ruts in the crease. All those things together made me decide to just call it a night.
I'm torn about going back. I know that's how I flew up the learning curve in our inline games- playing against guys much better than me. You learn pretty fast in those situations. But I don't want to be the one everyone laughs at, or wonders what the heck is she doing here, or groans when they see her behind them in the net. On the other hand, if I'm persistent, I might actually learn something. It definitely was interesting watching one of the other goalies; he was obviously a much higher skilled player and it was evident in how quick he was on his feet and in general. I think he was there the time I played on a Saturday too. So if I do go back I'm sure I can learn by watching him as well. I just have to learn to ignore the assholes.
I've always said (to myself, not that anyone else could hear me mutter behind my mask) that I would never quit a pick-up game because I was sucking. What I did last night comes close to that, though there were mitigating circumstances.
Desperate for some hockey after playing only on Monday this week, I went to a local rink for some open ice hockey on Friday night. I'd been to that rink before for open hockey on a Saturday night, and I was in way over my head skillwise. Still, I stuck it out, because that's how you learn. There were 3 other goalies that night, so I rotated 20 minutes in and 20 minutes out with a goalie on my side. This gave me a break from the confidence-shattering shots and the skaters a break from a crappy goalie. As much as I know I was nowhere near the level of play that night, I did enjoy myself for the most part, and by the end of the night I was holding my own.
The difference last night was the attitude of the players. Not towards me in particular, just in general. After an hour and a half, the ice was shitty and the attitudes just as bad. I decided to pack it in when I rotated out for a break. There were two other goalies, so I wasn't leaving my side without a goalie. And there was about 40 minutes left to play- I'm sure my replacement was happy to play all 40 of those minutes, he was quite good. The play had started getting awfully chippy, physically. I noticed on more than one occasion deliberate attempts to trip or otherwise entangle, all on the part of one or two guys on the dark team. But the thing that disgusted me the most was one of those same guys mocking a newer skater. One of the guys on the white team is new to ice and hasn't quite got his stride down yet. He skates with his ankles bent inwards (disaster waiting to happen, there) and sort of runs more than skates. He's new. He'll learn. Honestly he probably didn't belong there last night and neither did I, but he was there and that's no reason for him to be mocked. We're all adults, aren't we? (Apparently not). This fucknut on the dark team stole the puck from him and skated in towards the goalie, with the new guy in pursuit. The asshole actually changed his skating stride in an imitation of the new guy's stride. He got a shot off, and some people laughed, but I distinctly heard a few people call him an asshole. Good.
That left a real bad taste in my mouth, and when I got back out on the ice and was in the net with the constant 2-on-0's and odd-man rushes, the puck went past me more times than not. These guys had some insanely powerful slapshots, which my left inner thigh can attest to with a deep bruise the size of a puck (and growing). I think they were just too quick for me. And the ice by that time resembled the quality of the ice we played on outdoors after an hour or so- about a half inch of "snow" covering just about all of it. Not to mention the deep ruts in the crease. All those things together made me decide to just call it a night.
I'm torn about going back. I know that's how I flew up the learning curve in our inline games- playing against guys much better than me. You learn pretty fast in those situations. But I don't want to be the one everyone laughs at, or wonders what the heck is she doing here, or groans when they see her behind them in the net. On the other hand, if I'm persistent, I might actually learn something. It definitely was interesting watching one of the other goalies; he was obviously a much higher skilled player and it was evident in how quick he was on his feet and in general. I think he was there the time I played on a Saturday too. So if I do go back I'm sure I can learn by watching him as well. I just have to learn to ignore the assholes.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Goalie Butt
I love the "goal-cams" the NHL uses during games. As a fan it's great to be able to see the precise moment the puck crosses the line - or doesn't - and see the exact sequence of events on replays. As a fledgling goalie, I love being able to see the masters at work close-up. One down side is the occasional moment when one of the regular cameras switches to the goal-cam during a stoppage in play, or when the puck is in the other zone. At those moments, you get an eye full of nothing less than goalie butt- made that much more enormous by the unreal amounts of padding in the pants. Goalie Husband always teases me that I love that shot, because I get to look at a man's butt so close up. I remind him that I can hardly see what the guy's butt actually looks like, under all that equipment.
What does this have to do with me? As I stated previously, I'm pretty much built like a string bean. Or, I was. With the exception of one period of time during a lengthy illness, I have been wearing the same size clothes throughout my adult life, even 10 years after college. I'm not bragging, I think it's just a matter of a hummingbird's metabolism. Now that I'm in my 30's I'm sure that will change some. But soon after I took up goaltending, and dove in headfirst by playing three (or sometimes four) games a week, for hours at a time, my leg, thigh and yes, my butt muscles naturally bulked up. This resulted in the extremely perplexing and potentially panic-inducing (for women) phenomenon of none of my pants or skirts fitting me anymore. It was a gradual thing, but noticeable. I started playing in March of 2006, and by fall of 2007 I was literally holding some of my pants together with safety pins, unable to button them at the top. I had to retire several skirts that clung to me just a wee bit too tightly for appropriate office attire. Worst of all, I had to go out and buy new clothes, in a bigger size. Oh, the trauma! I jest, actually. I doubt the casual observer even notices the difference, and it's obvious to me that it's not a case of me sitting around eating bon-bons and getting "fat", but just my body's natural reaction to all the strenuous activity. However, there are times when the female stereotypes apply to me (as much as I hate to admit it), and I do have a bit of a fixation on what I refer to as "my giant goalie butt". I try to keep this to a minimum and of course never talk about it around any of "the guys", because locker room talk is lewd enough as it is, without it being aimed at my enormous ass. (Said with tongue firmly in....errrr.... cheek).
What does this have to do with me? As I stated previously, I'm pretty much built like a string bean. Or, I was. With the exception of one period of time during a lengthy illness, I have been wearing the same size clothes throughout my adult life, even 10 years after college. I'm not bragging, I think it's just a matter of a hummingbird's metabolism. Now that I'm in my 30's I'm sure that will change some. But soon after I took up goaltending, and dove in headfirst by playing three (or sometimes four) games a week, for hours at a time, my leg, thigh and yes, my butt muscles naturally bulked up. This resulted in the extremely perplexing and potentially panic-inducing (for women) phenomenon of none of my pants or skirts fitting me anymore. It was a gradual thing, but noticeable. I started playing in March of 2006, and by fall of 2007 I was literally holding some of my pants together with safety pins, unable to button them at the top. I had to retire several skirts that clung to me just a wee bit too tightly for appropriate office attire. Worst of all, I had to go out and buy new clothes, in a bigger size. Oh, the trauma! I jest, actually. I doubt the casual observer even notices the difference, and it's obvious to me that it's not a case of me sitting around eating bon-bons and getting "fat", but just my body's natural reaction to all the strenuous activity. However, there are times when the female stereotypes apply to me (as much as I hate to admit it), and I do have a bit of a fixation on what I refer to as "my giant goalie butt". I try to keep this to a minimum and of course never talk about it around any of "the guys", because locker room talk is lewd enough as it is, without it being aimed at my enormous ass. (Said with tongue firmly in....errrr.... cheek).
The Hawks take flight
During the same period of time that I was going back and forth with the goalie coach dude, a friend of a friend organized ice time at a rink not far from us, which turned out to be quite a nice rink. It had big, spacious locker rooms, and seating for around 3,000 on the main ice surface. As my first exposure to a large rink on smooth indoor ice, it took some getting used to. I felt out of position any time I came out of my net a little- I discovered I'd been using the boards at the rink for visual cues as to my location in relation to the net, and with a larger surface I had to re-calibrate the cues in my brain. This group played a few times, which allowed me to get a little more used to being on skates, and being on a larger rink.
As luck would have it, Goalie Husband's best friend told us about a "beginner's league" at another rink not far from us. He said a friend of his played there. Intrigued, I went to the website and did some digging. Sure enough, they had an "Adult Beginners League", and were at the tail end of their winter season. Giddy with excitement, I emailed the contact on the site and asked about the details. Within the next day GoalieHusband and I were signed up for the spring season, and passed the word on to two other people we played with. Through word of mouth, a few of the other people at the outdoor rink heard about it and decided to join as well. Unbeknownst to me, when they signed up, they requested to be on our team. The director of the league started calling us "Team Smith". (No, Smith is not really our last name. Come on, this is the Internet.)
As I intimated a few posts ago, I was growing dissatisfied with the women's indoor roller league. Our season there ended just before the ice season was about to begin, and that gave me a way to not sign up for the following season without ruffling any feathers. One of the other people I'd spoken to about the beginner's ice league was a girl I'd become friendly with in the women's league- she was on the same wavelength as me in terms of the vibe in the group. She'd started playing with me and the rest of "the guys" at the outdoor rink, and was interested in trying ice as well, so she signed up with the rest of us. I think it would have happened anyway, but the women's league ended up disbanding without the two of us... numbers had been getting lower and lower each week and I think that was the final blow. I feel somewhat badly about that, but I'm sure it would have happened anyway.
Fortunately, the director chose the path of good taste and didn't name us "Team Smith" after all. Our group constituted about 8 people, and with about another 8 we formed a team that was named the "Hawks". Our inaugural season was a Cinderella story. From the first game, where we got blown out 8-3 (I was sick and couldn't play, so at least that one wasn't on my personal record!), the team gradually gelled and improved each week until by the end of the season not only were we not getting blown out, we were actually winning games! The icing (ha ha!) on the cake was coming into the playoffs as the 6th-seeded team (out of 8) and ultimately beating the 2nd-place team for the "bronze". We stood around in the parking lot for about two hours, drinking beer and grinning ear to ear, and planning for the next season. All of our members except one signed up for the summer season... and he pledged to be back in the fall. Happy to be able to remain together as a team, we headed into the summer season with an eye on continuing to improve.
As luck would have it, Goalie Husband's best friend told us about a "beginner's league" at another rink not far from us. He said a friend of his played there. Intrigued, I went to the website and did some digging. Sure enough, they had an "Adult Beginners League", and were at the tail end of their winter season. Giddy with excitement, I emailed the contact on the site and asked about the details. Within the next day GoalieHusband and I were signed up for the spring season, and passed the word on to two other people we played with. Through word of mouth, a few of the other people at the outdoor rink heard about it and decided to join as well. Unbeknownst to me, when they signed up, they requested to be on our team. The director of the league started calling us "Team Smith". (No, Smith is not really our last name. Come on, this is the Internet.)
As I intimated a few posts ago, I was growing dissatisfied with the women's indoor roller league. Our season there ended just before the ice season was about to begin, and that gave me a way to not sign up for the following season without ruffling any feathers. One of the other people I'd spoken to about the beginner's ice league was a girl I'd become friendly with in the women's league- she was on the same wavelength as me in terms of the vibe in the group. She'd started playing with me and the rest of "the guys" at the outdoor rink, and was interested in trying ice as well, so she signed up with the rest of us. I think it would have happened anyway, but the women's league ended up disbanding without the two of us... numbers had been getting lower and lower each week and I think that was the final blow. I feel somewhat badly about that, but I'm sure it would have happened anyway.
Fortunately, the director chose the path of good taste and didn't name us "Team Smith" after all. Our group constituted about 8 people, and with about another 8 we formed a team that was named the "Hawks". Our inaugural season was a Cinderella story. From the first game, where we got blown out 8-3 (I was sick and couldn't play, so at least that one wasn't on my personal record!), the team gradually gelled and improved each week until by the end of the season not only were we not getting blown out, we were actually winning games! The icing (ha ha!) on the cake was coming into the playoffs as the 6th-seeded team (out of 8) and ultimately beating the 2nd-place team for the "bronze". We stood around in the parking lot for about two hours, drinking beer and grinning ear to ear, and planning for the next season. All of our members except one signed up for the summer season... and he pledged to be back in the fall. Happy to be able to remain together as a team, we headed into the summer season with an eye on continuing to improve.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Seduced by ice - Part II
It was a very warm fall and beginning of winter. Our outdoor games were able to continue well into December without any ill effects from the weather. There was even a game one evening in late November or early December when it was about 60 degrees! No one was complaining about global warming then.
By January though, we were hurled headlong into a typical winter for our area, and the rink that the town had lined with plastic and filled with water eventually froze over. One Sunday morning, we showed up sleepy-eyed and groggy-headed, to find a town employee walking around on the ice and... oh my goodness.... what did he just do? Turn the sign to "Skating Allowed"!?! Out came the cell phones. We called everyone who wasn't there yet and told them to turn around and grab their ice skates- we were going to play outdoor winter hockey like the Canadians do.
The group that morning consisted of mostly people who had never played on ice, or had played on ice so long ago it almost didn't count, but there were a handful of guys who actually preferred ice and played on a semi regular basis. But because most of us were new to this experience, it lent a giddy air to the morning. I discovered instantly why goalies prefer ice to roller- lateral movement is a cinch on blades. Not only that but when you drop down, you can use your momentum to keep moving to the side if need be. At least, if you can control yourself. Otherwise you end up sliding halfway to the boards.
I was elated to finally be playing on ice. Just standing still and listening to the sound of 10 pairs of skates carving up the ice made me wildly happy. I was an instant convert. Throughout the next two months, we met about twice a week in addition to Sunday mornings, and most of the time we were able to play on the ice. Much like our dedication in the summer, coming out to play even in 90-degree heat, we were there whether it was 27 degrees or 7. Some of those nights I seriously questioned my sanity. But it really wasn't all that bad once the game got going.
That was all I needed to push me to making playing on ice - indoors, regularly- a reality. I decided the best way to go about it was to get some training first, then see about finding a beginners league I could join. I called all of the rinks in the area, asking about lessons or clinics, but all of them were geared towards kids. (Again I encountered the "...and how old is your son?" response to my query about lessons). Finally though, I managed to find a guy who had recently started up a goaltending "school" at a rink about a half hour from me. After quite a bit of back and forth, for about two months, I finally was able to stop by for a lesson. I was woefully behind the other two goalies there in terms of skill, but I listened closely and worked my butt off and really got a lot out of it. I haven't gone back since then, and it's been a few months, but I do plan to go back again when I get a little more stable on my skates.
By January though, we were hurled headlong into a typical winter for our area, and the rink that the town had lined with plastic and filled with water eventually froze over. One Sunday morning, we showed up sleepy-eyed and groggy-headed, to find a town employee walking around on the ice and... oh my goodness.... what did he just do? Turn the sign to "Skating Allowed"!?! Out came the cell phones. We called everyone who wasn't there yet and told them to turn around and grab their ice skates- we were going to play outdoor winter hockey like the Canadians do.
The group that morning consisted of mostly people who had never played on ice, or had played on ice so long ago it almost didn't count, but there were a handful of guys who actually preferred ice and played on a semi regular basis. But because most of us were new to this experience, it lent a giddy air to the morning. I discovered instantly why goalies prefer ice to roller- lateral movement is a cinch on blades. Not only that but when you drop down, you can use your momentum to keep moving to the side if need be. At least, if you can control yourself. Otherwise you end up sliding halfway to the boards.
I was elated to finally be playing on ice. Just standing still and listening to the sound of 10 pairs of skates carving up the ice made me wildly happy. I was an instant convert. Throughout the next two months, we met about twice a week in addition to Sunday mornings, and most of the time we were able to play on the ice. Much like our dedication in the summer, coming out to play even in 90-degree heat, we were there whether it was 27 degrees or 7. Some of those nights I seriously questioned my sanity. But it really wasn't all that bad once the game got going.
That was all I needed to push me to making playing on ice - indoors, regularly- a reality. I decided the best way to go about it was to get some training first, then see about finding a beginners league I could join. I called all of the rinks in the area, asking about lessons or clinics, but all of them were geared towards kids. (Again I encountered the "...and how old is your son?" response to my query about lessons). Finally though, I managed to find a guy who had recently started up a goaltending "school" at a rink about a half hour from me. After quite a bit of back and forth, for about two months, I finally was able to stop by for a lesson. I was woefully behind the other two goalies there in terms of skill, but I listened closely and worked my butt off and really got a lot out of it. I haven't gone back since then, and it's been a few months, but I do plan to go back again when I get a little more stable on my skates.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Mercy me! My first league game(s)
After playing with the women's group for only a few months, an opportunity arose for me to substitute for their regular goalie in their league game. Several of the gals (and a handful of guys) had a team in the rink's beginner level league. Let's call them the Clippers. One evening, Maria asked me if I was available to play in their Clippers game the next night, since the regular goalie couldn't do it. I accepted right away, not without nervous apprehension. I'd never played in a league before.
When I arrived at the rink the next night, I was in the restroom changing at the same time as another Clippers member, who I found to be quite candid to a newcomer about what turned out to be some internal problems. I mentioned that I was nervous, and she said not to worry, that I couldn't do any worse than their goalie had done in the last game. I asked what the score had been; she said 8-0. Ouch. Surely I could do better than that, I thought. Apparently the score wasn't the only problem. Evidently this goalie had taken her frustrations out on her teammates, which I came to understand was a regular occurrence.
By the time the game started I had forgotten all the locker room drama and was focused and ready to go. Right off the bat, I could tell I was in for a lot of work. The play was in our zone the entire time. Literally. The entire time. I made a lot of saves, sometimes second and third saves, but the goals just piled up. It's hard to defend against a forward line that camps out in front of you, completely unchallenged. By the middle of the second period, the score was 8-0 and the game was called for "mercy". Both teams wanted to keep playing though - why not, we had the time- so I agreed to stay out there and go until our time was up. I wasn't thrilled with the result, but at least it wasn't the first time (or the last) that it would happen to this team. In the locker room several people even commented that it was a much more pleasant "mercy kill" than the last one. I just kept my mouth shut. I wasn't there to compete with the other goalie or fuel any fires.
Some time after that, at our regular women's game, I ended up talking to the other goalie about it, purely by accident. She confided in me that she wasn't going to play with the team in the next season, because it was the same result all the time, and it was really having an effect on her confidence. I was glad to know it wasn't just me.
Unfortunately, I filled in for her one more time, and once again, I did all I could but we ended up "mercied" again. This time I was not so relaxed about it. It really got under my skin, actually. From the time of that first league game until the time I played my last game with the women several weeks later, my confidence took a huge nosedive. It took a little while- and another encounter with ice- before I was back to my old self again.
When I arrived at the rink the next night, I was in the restroom changing at the same time as another Clippers member, who I found to be quite candid to a newcomer about what turned out to be some internal problems. I mentioned that I was nervous, and she said not to worry, that I couldn't do any worse than their goalie had done in the last game. I asked what the score had been; she said 8-0. Ouch. Surely I could do better than that, I thought. Apparently the score wasn't the only problem. Evidently this goalie had taken her frustrations out on her teammates, which I came to understand was a regular occurrence.
By the time the game started I had forgotten all the locker room drama and was focused and ready to go. Right off the bat, I could tell I was in for a lot of work. The play was in our zone the entire time. Literally. The entire time. I made a lot of saves, sometimes second and third saves, but the goals just piled up. It's hard to defend against a forward line that camps out in front of you, completely unchallenged. By the middle of the second period, the score was 8-0 and the game was called for "mercy". Both teams wanted to keep playing though - why not, we had the time- so I agreed to stay out there and go until our time was up. I wasn't thrilled with the result, but at least it wasn't the first time (or the last) that it would happen to this team. In the locker room several people even commented that it was a much more pleasant "mercy kill" than the last one. I just kept my mouth shut. I wasn't there to compete with the other goalie or fuel any fires.
Some time after that, at our regular women's game, I ended up talking to the other goalie about it, purely by accident. She confided in me that she wasn't going to play with the team in the next season, because it was the same result all the time, and it was really having an effect on her confidence. I was glad to know it wasn't just me.
Unfortunately, I filled in for her one more time, and once again, I did all I could but we ended up "mercied" again. This time I was not so relaxed about it. It really got under my skin, actually. From the time of that first league game until the time I played my last game with the women several weeks later, my confidence took a huge nosedive. It took a little while- and another encounter with ice- before I was back to my old self again.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Joining the Ladies
I heard back from Maria right away; she emailed me describing what the "women's league" was all about. It wasn't a league in the typical sense, more like a group of women who got together to play every Sunday evening. I could pay up front for a whole season, or pay by game on a drop-in basis. Since I was chomping at the bit to get any experience I could, I signed up for the next season, which happened to be starting in a few weeks.
Playing with them was different than what I was used to with the guys outside. The biggest difference was we had a clock and a ref. I'd never had to deal with faceoffs before, and despite the fact that there were fans mounted above the nets, the period breaks were a welcome chance to cool off and get some water. But of course it was different playing with a group of women than it was playing with men. Stereotypes seemed to hold true; the women weren't as aggressive or show-boaty as the guys can be. I had been reticent to play on an all-female team because of some bad past experiences with a high school field hockey team, but they all seemed very nice right off the bat (hockey stick?).
It was good for me to experience playing with a different group of people, and the indoor league at that rink piqued my interest somewhat, though I wasn't sure I was ready for that, skill-wise. Fortunately or unfortunately, my opportunity to test those waters came sooner than I expected.
Playing with them was different than what I was used to with the guys outside. The biggest difference was we had a clock and a ref. I'd never had to deal with faceoffs before, and despite the fact that there were fans mounted above the nets, the period breaks were a welcome chance to cool off and get some water. But of course it was different playing with a group of women than it was playing with men. Stereotypes seemed to hold true; the women weren't as aggressive or show-boaty as the guys can be. I had been reticent to play on an all-female team because of some bad past experiences with a high school field hockey team, but they all seemed very nice right off the bat (hockey stick?).
It was good for me to experience playing with a different group of people, and the indoor league at that rink piqued my interest somewhat, though I wasn't sure I was ready for that, skill-wise. Fortunately or unfortunately, my opportunity to test those waters came sooner than I expected.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Scouting the Ladies
Oddly enough, not long after I witnessed the women's ice team in action, a newcomer to the outdoor rink mentioned to me that a local indoor roller rink had a women's team, and they were looking for a goalie. I was apprehensive, but he said based on what he'd seen of my play, I'd fit right in, skill-level wise. It took me a few weeks to get used to the idea, but Goalie Husband and I finally went on a scouting mission one Sunday evening.
I realized right away that the newcomer was right- it looked like I could handle the pace and skill with no problem. In fact the game looked quite a bit slower than what I'd gotten used to on the outdoor rink. The goalies that night were both guys, filling in. Despite Goalie Husband trying to convince me to go talk to the women after their game, I was too nervous, and we left without talking to anyone.
We went back the next week, however. Again I watched from the sidelines, and what I saw confirmed what I'd thought last week; that it would be a good fit for me. Somehow I summoned up enough nerve to go talk to the women in the locker room after the game. I was so nervous that I hardly remember the conversation, but they seemed nice, and the de-facto leader seemed glad to have another goalie. I gave her my information and left the rink ecstatic. I had pushed through my nervousness to take the next step in my very young "career"; playing for some kind of (albeit very loosely) organized team.
I realized right away that the newcomer was right- it looked like I could handle the pace and skill with no problem. In fact the game looked quite a bit slower than what I'd gotten used to on the outdoor rink. The goalies that night were both guys, filling in. Despite Goalie Husband trying to convince me to go talk to the women after their game, I was too nervous, and we left without talking to anyone.
We went back the next week, however. Again I watched from the sidelines, and what I saw confirmed what I'd thought last week; that it would be a good fit for me. Somehow I summoned up enough nerve to go talk to the women in the locker room after the game. I was so nervous that I hardly remember the conversation, but they seemed nice, and the de-facto leader seemed glad to have another goalie. I gave her my information and left the rink ecstatic. I had pushed through my nervousness to take the next step in my very young "career"; playing for some kind of (albeit very loosely) organized team.
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