Birthday ice! (and beer. and cupcakes.)

As birthdays go, mine was pretty great yesterday. It started on the ice and ended on the ice. Can't beat that, right? At 12:01 a.m. on the 29th I was on the ice with the Hawks. At long last!!! It was an interesting game. We only had 9 skaters, 7 of whom were defensemen As a result most of our "forwards" were actually defensemen in forwards' clothing- including GoalieHusband. It was also our first game with the mixed group of "old" and "new" Hawks, so there was a bit of a different dynamic. The other team fared worse than we did, numbers wise (only 6 skaters!) but they still beat us 4-3. I'm actually not too worried about it. We played hard, and played as a team, which is something that had kind of been lacking in our last season. There was no yelling or grousing on the bench either. The new guys seem really cool and I'm sure it'll just be a matter of a few games before we all gel. Our next game is much earlier, so we should have better numbers.

I was surprisingly energetic all day at work, not dragging like I thought I'd be. I got home, had a PBJ, a quick nap, and GoalieHusband and I headed back out to the rink for Quarry Cats practice. Practices have been going great the last few weeks; the coaches are really organized and working towards specific goals with us. I can't wait to play an actual game and see how this all pays off. I think we're really going to be kicking some butt this season.

But the two best things about practice last night didn't happen on the ice. First off, as we were all changing afterward, there was a knock on the door. The coaches usually give us time to change and then come in to chat. They seemed a little early this week. I was on my way into the shower and half the room was in various stages of undress, so we yelled for them to wait. And then after I got out of the shower and was standing there in my towel, there was more banging at the door. Our "enforcer" (who I know will read this and be proud I called her that haha) got up and yelled "Not yet! We'll tell you when we're ready!" I dressed hastily and went to the door to let them in... and in comes GoalieHusband and the other two coaches with a tray of cupcakes with hockey-stick candles! They sang to me, I turned multiple shades of red, and we all pigged out on cupcakes and beer. Then we all headed over to the other ice surface...

One of our defensemen also plays on a men's team, which up until now had played at a different rink. They just started the fall season here at "our" rink, and had a game last night, so she did half our practice, and then headed over to play with them. Naturally we had to go over and support her team. The rest of her team and the team they were playing against were absolutely astounded by this small group of yelling, screaming, cheering, glass-pounding sweaty disheveled women. D-Girl wasn't embarrassed at all. Not one bit. ;) All she did was step on the ice and we went bananas. We heckled the other team's players. (Come on, if you're wearing 69 and take a douchey penalty you deserve to get heckled). One of the guys on the other team is someone GoalieHusband and I have played open hockey with several times, and he just turned and stared at us at one point. I grinned and banged on the glass at him. We greeted her with a cupcake and a bottle of beer when she got off the ice. Someone came over to us and asked "Are you D-Girl's family?" Well yes... in a way we are. Ha.

We bribed the rink worker with a few cupcakes and Twizzlers and he let us hang out back in the locker room again for a while. So, after a ridiculously late game on Tuesday, and smelly locker-room-party until late last night, I'm a little worse for the wear today. To make matters worse I left my wallet in my hockey bag, so it's going to have to be crappy office coffee for me, not the elixir that is Dunkin Donuts.

It's ok. It's all completely worth it. Back on the ice again with the Hawks on Sunday night.

I asked for it

Practice last night was... brutal. In a good way. I think I would have fared better if I'd eaten smarter during the day and drank more water. But I guess I wasn't expecting it to be as intense as it was. Coach has decided that he wants to really work on our conditioning. (See? I heard all of you groan!!!) Skating, skating, skating was the first order of business. Then we split up into forwards and defense, and I had continuous work for about 40 minutes straight. Lemme tell you, I was absolutely beat. The last 15 minutes or so passed pretty much in a haze, and I ended up with that bright-red-face-for-an-hour that happens when I really over exert myself. But, I lived to tell about it, and after wolfing down a Dunkin Donuts breakfast sandwich and still wanting more, I'm back to normal. Except that I'm not quite sure if I still have hamstrings. All griping aside, if practices keep up like this all season we're going to be kicking some serious ass.

Speaking of griping, allow me to complain for a moment about college kids working in pro shops. Who are obviously forwards. We got there slightly early, so I brought my skates into the shop for a sharpening. They didn't really look like they were doing much so I thought they were about to close, and asked if they could do a sharpening. The kid made a slightly affirmative noise, so I asked for them to sharpen the skates at 9/16ths. Kid looks at the skates...

Kid: Those are goalie skates?

Me: Yeah

Kid: We do those at a half inch.

Me: (wtf?) Uhh, yeah I don't want a half inch. Can you do them at 5/8ths then? (I'm thinking since not too many people ask for 9/16ths he couldn't figure out the math)

Kid: [shrug] sure, leave them there. (points to empty counter).

I can't say I was surprised when, 15 minutes later, I walked in and there were suddenly 2 pairs of skates in front of mine, and the machine wasn't even running. I told them since it seemed like they were pretty busy [ha!] and I needed to get on the ice, I was just going to take them. Yeah.... now I remember why I go elsewhere for my sharpenings.

Um... lets get on with it please?

Tick.... tock.... tick..... tock..... That's the soundtrack from the inside of my head while the days crawl by as I wait for my teams' seasons to start. I'm restless, antsy, always slightly aggravated. The fact that practices have started up for the womens' team is helping a little. We had a great practice last week, and I think it's only going to get better from there. Coach has decided to split into groups each week after some warm-up skating and puck-handling drills. Besides the head coach, there are two assistant coaches (one of whom is GoalieHusband hehehe), so we're going to break off into groups; forwards (working with Head Coach), defense (working with GoalieHusband), and ... me. I'll be working with the other assistant coach. I'm ecstatic about this because even though he's not a goalie coach, getting some individual attention can only help. He's already told me to let him know what I want to work on, since I know best what I need. (Hear that, glove hand? You're going to get your atrociously slow ass whipped into shape).

And as far as "things I need to work on" go, I've already gotten some feedback from Head Coach. This weekend there was a sort of last minute season kick-off party. Unfortunately because of somewhat late notice, not everyone could be there. It ended up being a small turnout, and we sat on the deck in the dark drinking beer, downloading ridiculous music, and talking. For the most part we didn't talk shop. But one thing that was discussed was getting the defense passing more. Including passing back to me. Waaaaiiiit a second. Hold the phone. Me? Play the puck? You really don't want that, Coach. Trust me. What's that saying? The thing you're afraid of doing is the thing you most need to do? Alright then. Bring on the pain.

I also have an update in the jersey number department. I mentioned that I was trying to decide which number to wear, and it was pretty much unanimously decided for me that I should wear Pi. I have no idea where that came from. I'm not a math geek. I think it's alternately hilarious and... well, kinda dopey. Right now I'm going with dopey.

Why I Hate Running, and... Oyster-Glove!

It's funny how things work out. Yesterday I was going to come here and bitch about my first morning of working out at home and how much of a complete goat rodeo it was. But I'm working on the budget for two offices at work (which I really should be doing right now, shhh), so I didn't have any time. Which is good for you guys, because now at least I have some happy stuff to write about as well.

I'm still going to bitch about running though. I played field hockey in high school, and one of the things I had to do all summer to be prepared for the start of the season was run. And run some more. And keep running. I absolutely HATED it. (I wasn't too keen on field hockey itself either but that's another story). With that albeit distant memory in mind, I figured I could walk at a really fast clip to get my cardio in. I don't mind walking. I left my house at 5:45 a.m. with a planned route in mind. Unfortunately I didn't take into consideration that whole "it's dark at 5:45 a.m. now" issue. Fortunately half of my route had streetlights, so I did that half first, and by the time I was done with that it was light enough to do the rest. The problem is, halfway through I got frustrated because I wasn't getting my heart rate up enough, so I decided to throw in the towel and try running. It wasn't too bad actually. Until my hip tightened up on me (not sure what that's all about). And I got an enormous blister on the bottom of my heel. Still, wasn't awful. What I slowly became aware of throughout the day though, is just how brutal running is on your body. Knees, back, everything hurt. And today I'm walking aroudn like an old lady because my calves and shins are so sore. So... I don't think I'll be running again. Walking with a flashlight maybe. Because I definitely don't mind the dark as long as I can see where I'm going (and if someone's going to jump out and steal me).

But all that pain went away later in the day when I realized that not only is the Quarry Cats season starting (first practice was last night), but there will be a Hawks season after all!!! I can't express how elated I am about this. I LOVE THIS TEAM. It's going to be interesting because we've lost several full-timers and have subsquently brought in a bunch of new guys to fill the ranks. They're all guys Doc has been playing with, and GoalieHusband even played on their team once when he did a stint in the instructional league after his knee surgery. They're good guys. I'm looking forward to getting to know them.

I also had a nice warm-fuzzy moment at QC practice when the coach announced to the team that I will officially be their full time goalie this year. Yay stick-taps and cheers. Guess it's time to think about jersey numbers. I'll take suggestions, but here's the problem. These numbers are already taken: 33, 34, 35. No way in hell will I wear 30 because even though Lundqvist wears it*, if I play goal in NJ with a 30 on my back everyone will think it's because of MAAARRRTTTYYYYYY and we can't have that. So, that leaves a few possibilities: 1 (it is a "goalie number" but I've never really liked it), 26 (personal reasons), 37 (I like 7's), 39 (Hasek), 40 (Rask, but I'm really not a big fan of that number in general).

This also means that finally, finally at long last, the wheels of hockey season have begun turning. Practice on Wednesdays. Games on Saturday, Sunday/Monday. Open hockey here and there (have to keep up with that, because that's how I stay sharp). Which means the gear will almost never completely dry out. I've taken to describing the bliss of this carousel of hockey as "oyster glove" time, thanks to a fellow goalie on Twitter who once commented "man I love it when putting my glove on feels like sliding my hand into a warm oyster." Which is allll kinds of wrong and disgusting, but that's what makes it so great. So bring on the warm, damp, smelly gear, bitches. I revel in it. Ha!


*30 isn't "really" Lundqvist's number anyway. He's only wearing it because 35 is retired. Just sayin'.

THIS is why I play hockey

Monday morning open hockey was one of those sessions that makes me grin like an idiot behind my mask and just revel in how much I love playing hockey, and love being a goalie. The group of high-skilled guys who end up at our rink every summer when their partially-outdoor rink shuts down was there, as usual. I absolutely love playing with these guys, there's nothing more exhilarating than being in the middle of a really fast, really intense game. It always brings my level of play up a few notches. (Almost always. Sometimes I just flat out suck ass.) Also, it being a holiday, the benches were so full there wasn't room for me to sit on my off-shift. I know the skaters hate that, but I love it, because that means the intensity of the game doesn't wane over the course of the two hours as guys tire out.

The energy level was really high, GoalieHusband was out there with me, and I was kicking ass. So much so that Ringleader even complimented me towards the end of the session. That's high praise- he doesn't throw compliments around. I realized after my first shift what a difference attitude makes. Yes, I know, this is nothing new. I know GoalieBrain already knew this, but sometimes it just takes something to hammer it home once in a while.

On Friday morning, while I was on the bench waiting for my first shift, Ringleader was alerting the other D to one of the opposing forwards. "Don't let him shoot, and if he does, stay out of his way," he warned them. "He's got a pro-quality shot." Naturally, right after he said that, the guy let a blistering wrister loose. Okay, I thought. Duly noted.

Unfortunately, the warning to the D (and seeing evidence right afterwards) had the effect of making me play scared against this guy. I'd see him coming down the wing with the puck and flinch inwardly, thinking "oh shit...", and of course, he scored. Every time. (Well, every time but twice. Once I got lucky and it glanced off my shoulder, and once towards the end of the game I managed to get in front of it and not be killed.) But yesterday was totally different. When I saw this guy was there again, I resolved to specifically play him more aggressively than necessary, to overcome the fact that I was playing way too timidly against him.

It worked like a charm. First shift, the first shot I saw was from this guy. I stepped right up on him and made the save. The D in front of me said "wow! great save!" I was thinking it was a pretty routine save, but the fact that I'd grown some balls was what made it pretty cool. I took another shot from him again soon after, with the same result. I wonder now if that set the tone for the morning, and I played with more confidence because of that. I also had no worries rattling around in my head, for the first time in a little while, so I'm sure that made a difference as well.

Those guys are going back to their other rink soon, and I'm really going to miss playing with them. There's one guy in particular that is just amazing to watch. I didn't even know his name until this week, because everyone simply refers to him as "The Big Russian". Of the several Russians in this group, this guy stands out. He's huge. He looks like a pro out there, not only because of his skill, but because of his size. He's built like a brick shit-house, as GoalieHusband learned this weekend after unwittingly slamming into him and bouncing off like a sack of corn. (And GoalieHusband is pretty big himself). He sometimes wears a practice jersey from a KHL team, so I wouldn't doubt if he was in their system over there at some point. I know it's bordering on goalie sacrilege to be in such awe of a forward, but I could really watch this guy all day.

Oh, and I found out how old Ringleader really is: 57. Wow. I'll be happy if I'm playing for another 5 years. Still playing at 57? That would be awesome.

This is hard to type

Firstly, I should warn you, I'm a little loopy on wine and coffee flavored tequila. (Hey my husband said the combo was ok... hope he's right). I figured what more appropriate time to post about the drunk guy at open hockey this morning. Yes, Ringleader, from the "wow that pediatric oncologist just killed my comedic inspiration" post showed up this morning, and I could have sworn I heard him say during warm-ups "hey... I'm drunk... is that going to bother anyone?"

I figured... no that's not what I heard. It's 7:30 in the goddamn morning. He must have said something else. But no. When he came off the ice after his first shift and said "I might throw up on someone. I'm drunk.", I realized my ears were working after all. Turns out it was his birthday today. And he apparently really tied one on the night before, got about 2 hours sleep, and was still drunk when he showed up to play. (Which begs the question, how did he get there... but we'll pretend he didn't drive.)

Since there were 3 other goalies besides me, I got quite a bit of bench time. So here's a conglomeration of Ringleader quotes from the bench. Happy 41st birthday. (Which is total bullshit. If he's 41, I'm 19).

"Wow it's like a battle of wits. Nitwits."

"Look at Vladdy, he looks like a real pro" (someone trips Vladdy and he goes sprawling on his stomach) "Now he looks like an idiot."

Now this one requires some setup. We were rolling 5 D for most of the game. One of the forwards left early, so Ringleader decided that meant one of the D had to go up, so there would only be 4. The consensus on the bench was that one of the guys out on the ice at the time should go up, since no one else wanted to. Of course, they knew that guy wouldn't want to either. They discussed telling him his game was so well-rounded that he should play forward.

Then Ringleader told my husband: Ok. I'll go out next. When he comes off you tell him.

Husband: Nice, I like the way you're passing the buck.

Ringleader: Hey, I'm grooming you for the GM position.

It turned out one of the other guys volunteered to move up to forward. The words were barely out of his mouth when Ringleader said "WTF are you doing sitting with us then. Get out of here!"

Also, I learned that apparently, open hockey on Thanksgiving morning features water bottles full of beer being passed around the bench. You bet your ass I'll be showing up this year.

The Summer of My Discontent

Posts in here have been pretty sparse mostly because with both teams off there hasn't been much to write about. Summer always sucks, primarily because it's the off-season, but also because I absolutely positively detest the heat and am miserable for months. But this summer was worse than usual, because of a few different factors, some of which are personal and I'm not getting into those. But one thing that really made me antsy was the lack of Hawks hockey. One thing we could always count on during the off-season was "well, at least we still have our games". But this year for whatever reason, there weren't enough people who could or would commit to a game every week over the summer. There's been lots of frustration with the fact that our games are so late, so I'm sure that had a lot to do with it, as well as people's vacation schedules. (I continue to be somewhat baffled by this. Since when have our games EVER been early? I remember one season where we had a few 7pm Sunday games but that was a long time ago and was never repeated. This is just when our league has ice time.)

When the decision was made I had a pit of nervous "what if everyone doesn't come back in the fall?" anxiety in the back of my mind. But I shoved it aside. Surely it's just that people have much more interesting things to do all summer, though I can't possibly imagine what those things could be. What's more interesting than hockey? The beach? Puh-leeze. So I gritted my way through the summer, somewhat sated by a few tournaments, looking forward to the day when we'd all be gearing back up for a season.

Only.... that hasn't happened yet. What has happened instead is a complete lack of interest on most of the team's part. At last count we had 7 full-time people, and a few other people who said they could sub for a game here or there. That's including the new guy we drafted from open hockey (the aforementioned "Doc"). To say it was a complete let-down for me would be a gross understatement. Coupled with this bombshell was the fact that I had to give up my gym membership (which was pretty expensive as gym memberships go) in the interest of tightening the purse-strings a little. Now, no gym, which also means no yoga class, and now no Hawks?! Does not compute.

A glimmer of hope has been offered, though. It turns out Doc plays on a team one level under us (yes, that's actually possible!), and several of his guys have been itching to move up. So maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to fill in the gaps, and we'll have a season after all. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much though. At the very least if we still don't have a season we'll probably rent some ice a few times. That'll be better than nothing.