I hate "abandoning" my blog. Especially after something like the "goaliespeak" post, which (so far) has had 206 hits. Up 'til then I think the most hits a post has had has been around 35, so although I am somewhat ashamed to admit it, that made me feel a little proud that so many people found their way to the blog, and apparently stuck around, if the uptick in hits on other posts is any indication. I briefly considered making it a point to write something every day, so as not to lose anyone's attention. But I like keeping it real, and if I have nothing to say, I have nothing to say.
Particularly during times like these. I find that any time I start to succumb to stress, my natural instinct is to head for cover. Facebook, Twitter, my goalie message board, even blogging all seem overwhelming. I know I've alluded to it here a few times, but things at work are downright awful. I've been with this company for 15 years, and started here straight out of college. I don't know any other job or industry. Many of these people, though I do bitch about them, are like a fucked up extended dysfunctional family in some ways. And just over a month ago, we entered Chapter 11 as part of the process of being acquired by another company. It's been bad here for a long time, but never this bad. There was a round of layoffs last week, with another looming this week. We no longer exist as a company but we haven't been purchased by anyone yet. This extended period of limbo, of not knowing who will get to stay and who will be cut loose, is extremely trying for all of us. Coming to the office every day gets harder and harder when you have nothing to do and no direction and no word from anyone, but know bad news is coming at some point. That my paycheck actually hits my bank account on payday is no small miracle, and for that I am very thankful.
As a result I have been running on autopilot lately. It's gotten progressively worse over the last week or so. The only way to get through it (other than drinking heavily, which I will not allow myself to succumb to) is to just numb out. That, and live from hockey game to hockey game, though I have to admit after the final week of 5 times on the ice in 6 days, I may be a tad burned out. BUT.... the Cougars have a game tonight, and a tournament is a mere four days away. I've managed to shake myself free of the inertia enough to focus on those things and enjoy what I can. It took me until just this afternoon to come to that realization. Maybe it's the Buddhist CD I'm listening to in the car. Maybe it's my brain finally screaming awake after a period of being zoned out. Whatever it is, I'm back. At least for a few days. And I SWEAR, this time I will blog the tournament as it happens. I know, I know, I say that every time. But I have to really do it. There are so many funny little details that get left out when I do a post-tournament wrap-up. It should be an interesting experiment.
So..... LET'S GO COUGAR(HAWK)S!!!! This is a playoff game. (I know! Already???!) This season went far too quickly and I'm going to miss playing with these idiots next season, so I know I have to grab hold while I can. BOO. YAH.
Showing posts with label navel-gazing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navel-gazing. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, November 14, 2011
Where to start?
I have to apologize (yet again) for pulling a disappearing act. Can I blame the 5 days without heat or power? That was one factor, sure, but that only happened a week and a half ago. I just haven't felt much like writing in here when all there is to say is to rehash the same old thing about the league the Hawks are in. It's also been a bit of a rocky road for yours truly, for the last month or so. It's never fun to admit weakness but I have some mental issues that I deal with and although they're normally well corralled, certain things in "real life" tend to bring them out. And that's when I go into hiding.
But things are looking up now. I've had a few games with the Hawks, all with the same result, so there isn't really much to say on that front, but that will be changing soon. The Cats had their first game back in mid-October, and then were back to practice only until this past weekend. And what a weekend it was. I looked forward for weeks to this weekend, it being a double-header on Sunday. The first game was a Cats matinee (ok, 5pm, but that feels like a matinee to me. Hell that feels like a morning game to me).
I was so ramped up to play that I pestered and pestered GoalieHusband and we arrived at the rink a good 2 hours before game time. It was ok though, because the C team had played earlier, and I knew we'd be able to hang with them until it was time to suit up. We spent a little while outside with the grill, potato chips, and beer (no beer for me though, I was sipping a pre-game coffee), and then it was time to get ready. I brought my stuff into the locker room and discovered, much to my dismay, that there was a bag already in there. In my spot.
I'm not a neurotic goalie. I don't get too kooky over many things, but one thing I am pretty anal about is my spot. I started sitting there because it has the most room, and let's face it, I have the most shit. But now it's just sort of... a given. I even went to the first practice of the season a little early, because I knew we had some new players and I wanted to make sure I had my spot before they got there. I wandered back outside, agitated, and told GoalieHusband and Flipper (who had just arrived) "There's someone in my spot". I think I said it a few times. Honestly, if the person had been there, I would have just asked if they minded moving over, that it's a goalie thing and I'm anal about my spot, but no one was there and it threw me off. #RainMan Flipper went in and took care of it I guess, because after I got back in there, my spot was nice and empty.
It didn't throw my game off though. I had that surging, strong, balls-out feeling that I sometimes get when I'm really in the zone. I felt like I could feel every muscle fiber firing. I was so in the zone that when we gathered at the bench between periods and GoalieHusband gave his pep talk and observations, and then turned to me and said "Goalie. What do you see?" I completely froze. Everyone was looking at me expectantly. And I did have something I wanted to say. But all I saw was eyes. Shit, shit, they're waiting for you to say something. "Umm... I did have something to say but I forgot it", I admitted. Fortunately only a few seconds of laughter passed before I remembered I wanted to warn them about the cherry picker the other team had been placing on the blue line.
The game itself was a very exciting one, for the spectators anyway. And we had quite a few of those. My parents were there, as was a friend of mine with her husband and three kids. For me, though, the only thing that saved me from a batch of healthy self-goalie-hatred was an overtime goal by the one and only "Pants". We went up early, but the other team came back. We managed to hold them at 4-3 until the last minute of the period, when they, naturally, pulled their goalie. With 11 seconds left (ELEVEN FREAKIN SECONDS), they had a shot that I'm 99% sure was going wide, but in my puffed-up over-confidence I went out to play it, and it took a bizarre bounce over my pad and into the net.
I was seriously pissed. I'm not sure how she did it but gionta182 convinced the refs that we were supposed to get an OT period, and although the girls were totally gassed, we pressed and pressed (and I made a few saves), and about 2 minutes into it we scored. Out of respect for the other goalie, I don't cheer when we score. But I cheered for that goal. What a relief. So now we are 1-0-1 (W-L-T) on the young season. And not only that, but we may have gained two converts. Two of my friend's kids, who have been to one other game, now want to play hockey. *JOY*. One is a 10 yr old boy, the other is a 6 yr old girl. All I need to do is get that girl into goal, and the circle of hockey continues. ;)
An hour and a half (and a lot of potato chips and 1 beer) later, I was back on the ice again with the Hawks. With 15 minutes to go before our ice time, we only had a small number of skaters, so we went back outside and dragged hkygrl12 kicking and screaming (ha ha ha) into the locker room with us.
***maalivahti will be with you in a moment, there's a shootout on tv****
She wasn't the only guest; GoalieHusband was on the ice as well. It was great to play with both of them, with my team. I didn't have very high expectations of the game, and in fact I told a teammate "I just played at 5:00. I'm either going to be really good, or really bad".
Well, I guess it was the former. What's that, you say? Didn't you lose 9-3? Why, yes we did. However, the (very unofficial) shot count for the night was 75. That's what a guy from the other team estimated, and two teammates of mine independently came up with that number as well. I certainly don't disagree. I would have given a very conservative estimate of 60, but 75 doesn't sound out of the question. I have never been that exhausted in a game, ever. The only other times I've ever felt like that was after an ass-kicking with my private coach, or after 4 hours in the brutal summer sun back in the "outside on the asphalt" days. But I hung in there. I wish I could see some of those saves now, in retrospect, because I played most of that game in a fog. I do remember several saves that shocked not only me but the other team. I got countless "good save, keep" taps on the pads from them. (This is not to minimize the good words from my own team, but when it comes from the other team, you know they're not just pumping your tires, so to speak). In fact, after the handshake line, one of the other guys skated back around to find me, pointed at me, and said "MVP".
So, 75 shots. "Where was your D?" will be the first question in most people's minds. They were there, busting their asses just as much as I was. And we scored a power play goal, something I don't think we've done in about 3 seasons. All this to illustrate; we are playing at 110% every night and still getting killed, blasted out by 6-9 goals each game. It's time to face the facts. This is not the league for me. Am I a "D league" player? You bet your ass. Are the rest of the guys in this league? Not by a long shot. And after about three years of trying to rectify the situation with the rink, and nothing changing, I'm done. I'm going to the "AIL", where I'll actually have a chance at not getting blown out every single night, and a chance at it being fun again. A few teammates have made the same decision, so at least it won't be a complete dissolution of the team. And I suspect that when the others hear of our move, a few will do the same. By no means can the whole team make that move; it would be beyond unfair for about 5 of those guys to come to the AIL and I don't think they would.
So it's kind of an end of an era for the Hawks. I'm not sure how many of us will be together next season. It's sad, after all these years together, but enough is enough. I'm done with the hit my confidence is taking, with the long, self-loathing rides home from the rink. And knowing some of the guys will be right there with me makes it that much easier. Change can only come when the pain of not changing outweighs the pain of changing.
But things are looking up now. I've had a few games with the Hawks, all with the same result, so there isn't really much to say on that front, but that will be changing soon. The Cats had their first game back in mid-October, and then were back to practice only until this past weekend. And what a weekend it was. I looked forward for weeks to this weekend, it being a double-header on Sunday. The first game was a Cats matinee (ok, 5pm, but that feels like a matinee to me. Hell that feels like a morning game to me).
I was so ramped up to play that I pestered and pestered GoalieHusband and we arrived at the rink a good 2 hours before game time. It was ok though, because the C team had played earlier, and I knew we'd be able to hang with them until it was time to suit up. We spent a little while outside with the grill, potato chips, and beer (no beer for me though, I was sipping a pre-game coffee), and then it was time to get ready. I brought my stuff into the locker room and discovered, much to my dismay, that there was a bag already in there. In my spot.
I'm not a neurotic goalie. I don't get too kooky over many things, but one thing I am pretty anal about is my spot. I started sitting there because it has the most room, and let's face it, I have the most shit. But now it's just sort of... a given. I even went to the first practice of the season a little early, because I knew we had some new players and I wanted to make sure I had my spot before they got there. I wandered back outside, agitated, and told GoalieHusband and Flipper (who had just arrived) "There's someone in my spot". I think I said it a few times. Honestly, if the person had been there, I would have just asked if they minded moving over, that it's a goalie thing and I'm anal about my spot, but no one was there and it threw me off. #RainMan Flipper went in and took care of it I guess, because after I got back in there, my spot was nice and empty.
It didn't throw my game off though. I had that surging, strong, balls-out feeling that I sometimes get when I'm really in the zone. I felt like I could feel every muscle fiber firing. I was so in the zone that when we gathered at the bench between periods and GoalieHusband gave his pep talk and observations, and then turned to me and said "Goalie. What do you see?" I completely froze. Everyone was looking at me expectantly. And I did have something I wanted to say. But all I saw was eyes. Shit, shit, they're waiting for you to say something. "Umm... I did have something to say but I forgot it", I admitted. Fortunately only a few seconds of laughter passed before I remembered I wanted to warn them about the cherry picker the other team had been placing on the blue line.
The game itself was a very exciting one, for the spectators anyway. And we had quite a few of those. My parents were there, as was a friend of mine with her husband and three kids. For me, though, the only thing that saved me from a batch of healthy self-goalie-hatred was an overtime goal by the one and only "Pants". We went up early, but the other team came back. We managed to hold them at 4-3 until the last minute of the period, when they, naturally, pulled their goalie. With 11 seconds left (ELEVEN FREAKIN SECONDS), they had a shot that I'm 99% sure was going wide, but in my puffed-up over-confidence I went out to play it, and it took a bizarre bounce over my pad and into the net.
I was seriously pissed. I'm not sure how she did it but gionta182 convinced the refs that we were supposed to get an OT period, and although the girls were totally gassed, we pressed and pressed (and I made a few saves), and about 2 minutes into it we scored. Out of respect for the other goalie, I don't cheer when we score. But I cheered for that goal. What a relief. So now we are 1-0-1 (W-L-T) on the young season. And not only that, but we may have gained two converts. Two of my friend's kids, who have been to one other game, now want to play hockey. *JOY*. One is a 10 yr old boy, the other is a 6 yr old girl. All I need to do is get that girl into goal, and the circle of hockey continues. ;)
An hour and a half (and a lot of potato chips and 1 beer) later, I was back on the ice again with the Hawks. With 15 minutes to go before our ice time, we only had a small number of skaters, so we went back outside and dragged hkygrl12 kicking and screaming (ha ha ha) into the locker room with us.
***maalivahti will be with you in a moment, there's a shootout on tv****
She wasn't the only guest; GoalieHusband was on the ice as well. It was great to play with both of them, with my team. I didn't have very high expectations of the game, and in fact I told a teammate "I just played at 5:00. I'm either going to be really good, or really bad".
Well, I guess it was the former. What's that, you say? Didn't you lose 9-3? Why, yes we did. However, the (very unofficial) shot count for the night was 75. That's what a guy from the other team estimated, and two teammates of mine independently came up with that number as well. I certainly don't disagree. I would have given a very conservative estimate of 60, but 75 doesn't sound out of the question. I have never been that exhausted in a game, ever. The only other times I've ever felt like that was after an ass-kicking with my private coach, or after 4 hours in the brutal summer sun back in the "outside on the asphalt" days. But I hung in there. I wish I could see some of those saves now, in retrospect, because I played most of that game in a fog. I do remember several saves that shocked not only me but the other team. I got countless "good save, keep" taps on the pads from them. (This is not to minimize the good words from my own team, but when it comes from the other team, you know they're not just pumping your tires, so to speak). In fact, after the handshake line, one of the other guys skated back around to find me, pointed at me, and said "MVP".
So, 75 shots. "Where was your D?" will be the first question in most people's minds. They were there, busting their asses just as much as I was. And we scored a power play goal, something I don't think we've done in about 3 seasons. All this to illustrate; we are playing at 110% every night and still getting killed, blasted out by 6-9 goals each game. It's time to face the facts. This is not the league for me. Am I a "D league" player? You bet your ass. Are the rest of the guys in this league? Not by a long shot. And after about three years of trying to rectify the situation with the rink, and nothing changing, I'm done. I'm going to the "AIL", where I'll actually have a chance at not getting blown out every single night, and a chance at it being fun again. A few teammates have made the same decision, so at least it won't be a complete dissolution of the team. And I suspect that when the others hear of our move, a few will do the same. By no means can the whole team make that move; it would be beyond unfair for about 5 of those guys to come to the AIL and I don't think they would.
So it's kind of an end of an era for the Hawks. I'm not sure how many of us will be together next season. It's sad, after all these years together, but enough is enough. I'm done with the hit my confidence is taking, with the long, self-loathing rides home from the rink. And knowing some of the guys will be right there with me makes it that much easier. Change can only come when the pain of not changing outweighs the pain of changing.
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