Living every hockey fan's dream

This weekend my team-mates (and some former team-mates) rented ice to have the first of what will hopefully be many "alumni games". I guess that name isn't all that accurate, considering the fact that only a handful of them were former team-mates who have moved up and on to better leagues, but that's what we've been calling it. Major props to the guy who put it all together- it was an absolute blast.

It was, however, the afterparty that will live on in my and GoalieHusband's memories for quite some time. (Hmmm... with hockey, isn't that always the case?) Naturally, after expending all that energy, one must replace it with quality beverages, preferably those made from hops and grains. This was certainly not the first time GH and I have sat around drinking after a game, and it wasn't even the first time we outlasted everyone else on the team and ended up being the only ones hanging out with the rink manager. But it was the first time that said manager (let's call him "Bob") proposed heading to a nearby bar when the suds ran out, and as we weren't ready to call it a night yet, we thought that sounded like a damn good idea. So off we went.

Several beers and not a few shots later, somehow the subject came up. I couldn't tell ya who brought it up, or in what context it was raised, but GH and I were rambling about how neat it would be to drive the zamboni. Bob took his keys out of his pocket and dangled them temptingly in front of us, a shit-eating grin on his face. Not long after, it was last call and we were finishing up our beer and heading back to the rink. I felt like a kid in a candy store when Bob opened the giant door to the bay in the back where the infamous machines are kept. GH and I walked all around them, peering in at the gagues and the augurs (sp?) and blades. We got a very quick lesson on how all the equipment worked, and then Bob fired one up and took it out on the ice. He showed us which levers NOT to pull (he was just letting us drive it... not actually letting us completely destroy the ice with our tipsy giddiness and lack of familiarity with the mechanisms), and then hopped down. I climbed up first. It was dark in the rink, but the headlights on the zamboni clearly illuminated the surface and - most importantly - the boards. And I'm proud to say I managed to steer very clear of the boards as I maneuvered the vehicle around the ice, in my absolute glory the entire time. GoalieHusband did the same. In fact he even had the balls to drive it backwards for a bit.

That has to be the coolest experience I've ever had at the rink. We also got to peek in at the engine room, which houses the unreal amount of machinery that keeps the rinks cool. We sat outside and talked until the sun came up. Bob is "good people".

Good times. Hockey rules.