Fighting MS in PA

After enduring the traffic hell that caused a 260 mile trip to take 8 hours, GoalieHusband and I were on the road again Saturday morning to meet up with the three QCats teams that had gone to Bethlehem to participate in another Hockey Fights MS tournament. We had two teams in the D division and one team in the C division. I was playing on the C team this time around. Bacardi had subbed for me in Friday night's game, which we won 3-1. I have to admit I was pretty nervous about playing with the C team, even though I knew I could handle it.

The first game on Saturday was one of those deceptively difficult ones- I only saw 5 shots. Fortunately I improved over my last experience in a game like that and came out of it with a shutout. Whew. It always feels pretty crappy to get scored on when you have so little to do, but that's exactly what makes it so hard to stay focused. I cleaned imaginary snow out of my crease, sang to myself, and yelled helpful things to my teammates, even though I'm sure they couldn't hear me anyway all the way down in the other zone.

The next game was slightly more challenging. I didn't count shots and neither did the scorekeeper but I'd estimate about 15. We won 6-2. The most challenging game of all though was the championship game, which we played Sunday morning. The team we'd faced on Friday was our opponent again in this game, and I was pretty nervous after hearing the others talk about how intense that game had been. It was everything I expected: physical, fast, and even a little chippy. We went up 2-0 but they answered back and the first period ended at 2-1. We traded goals a few times and with just a few minutes left in the third period, we were ahead 4-3. Until they scored.

Here's a little tip from your friendly neighborhood goalie. Skaters- when the other team scores, especially a crucial goal, it really makes the goalie feel lower than worm turds when you slam your stick on the boards/glass in frustration. Yeah, we know we screwed up. The puck's in the net, glaring at us like a giant accusation. We don't slam our sticks if you miss a wide open net or lose the puck on a breakaway. So even if it's only in frustration at yourself, knock it off, ok?

The format for this tournament was a five minute, 4 on 4 overtime, followed by a 5-person shootout if necessary. We didn't make it that far. We took a penalty about a minute into the overtime, and they scored with someone camped out all alone on the back door. I had twisted around to try to grab a piece of it, and after it went in I just flopped forward onto my stomach. Worst. Feeling. Ever.

Fortunately the tournament didn't end completely on that note. We had time for a nice relaxing lunch at the outdoor tables of the rink pub, and then headed in to watch the D division championship game. It's unusual for people to stick around on a Sunday afternoon once their game is over. But this one was different: it was Quarry Cats vs Quarry Cats. It was fun and bizarre all at the same time. (In fact, both teams came out in their away jerseys for warm-ups. The home team changed into their whites for the game, but that was pretty funny.) I'm just glad I didn't have to play. I hate playing against my teammates, as is well documented here. With less than a minute to go, we moved from the stands to the door in the boards, and joined the on-ice festivities. The "white" team won, but after they were presented with the trophy someone started handing out all the extra black jerseys to those of us from the stands. All three teams mashed together for the official tournament picture. It's awesome. One giant mass of happy Cats. I love us.

Fighting MS in Vermont - Part 2

After our 2-1 win and visit to the ice cream Mecca, we gathered again for our second game of the day. The sign in sheet had us listed as "away", and I distinctly remember asking the girl at the desk "That means we're dark, right?" She confirmed. Then I saw the name of the team we were playing. I'm not the only one who noticed it. Several other people in the locker room commented on it, and quipped that we might want to give the refs a heads-up, since this team apparently likes to body check them. Pants relayed some commentary she overheard while walking through the parking lot. Oh boy, we thought, here we go again.

And then we walked out of the locker room, in our dark jerseys, and the ref was standing there telling us to go back in and change, because the other team only had dark. Ok... this wasn't something they could come and tell us BEFORE we all got dressed? I mean, if you're a team with only one jersey, fine, I get it, but wouldn't you check with the other team in order to avoid a giant clusterfuck? It has definitely happened before, in fact it happened in our first game. They only had powder blue and asked what color we were, to make sure it wouldn't be confusing. Not exactly the most difficult concept in the world. 

So, we were a little miffed at being told just before getting on the ice, to go back and change. Then someone said "What about our socks? Do we have to change those too?" Everyone looked at me. They all know that, given the choice, I'd rather have all dark or all light socks in front of me, and all socks of the opposite side of the spectrum on the other. It's not a huge deal, but it definitely makes a difference. When you're primarily looking down, especially if you're down on the ice already, what you see are socks. When you see socks of one color or the other you know if it's a teammate or not. Is it a huge deal? No. Have I played a million games of open hockey and beer league games where everyone's socks are all different colors? Yes. But in this league, everyone's jerseys and socks tend to match, so that is what I am used to. However, I wasn't about to make a big deal out of it. With all of them looking at me expectantly, I kind of shrugged. I know changing your socks is an enormous pain in the ass, and I didn't feel like I wanted to ask that of everyone. The decision however, was taken out of my hands. Someone spoke up and told the refs to tell them if they want us to change, they have to wait for us to change our socks too. As we were in the locker room changing, a tournament person came in and said they were wearing light socks. The Captain made a split second decision and told everyone to put their socks in a pile - the other team could wear them. 

Looking back, it's a little silly. But clearly it was more gamesmanship than anything else. The Captain explained to the tournament rep that we have a history with this team, and told her about the game where one of their players checked a ref. She explained that if they were going to wait and then make us change, they could change too. By now, I was feeling like an idiot, because no less than three players had sliced their fingers open trying to get their socks off over their skates, one of them pretty badly. But I wasn't the one who had made the decision. Anyway, back out we went, onto the ice. I had just stepped onto the ice from the bench when I turned around and saw one of the opponents standing on our bench, addressing the few of us that were there. 

"I don't understand, what's the reason we all had to change our socks?" she asked. Someone explained that our goalie wants us to all have the same socks. We thought she honestly had come over to ask, so we answered. But the next few things she said made it clear she was there purely to give us a hard time. She started giving us an attitude about the socks. I asked her what took them so long to tell us about the dark jerseys. She huffed and said "We don't know you! We don't know what kind of jerseys you have!" I asked her if it was really that hard to ask. A couple people started talking at once, and one player told her to leave. She then demanded  in a very pissy voice "Where's your goalie?" I'd been standing no more than two feet in front of her, talking to her the entire time, so I opened my arms wide and said "Uhhhh, right here." She said something again about the socks and I, like an idiot, tried to explain. She said, as she turned to leave "Well then you should be a better fucking goalie". Since I never have been the queen of the comeback, I very wittily told her to go fuck herself. 

Were we a little obnoxious about the socks? Yeah, I can admit that now. But not without reason. Did they have to send someone over to our bench before the game to bitch us out? Well, I guess we shouldn't have been surprised. Initially, I was really steamed, but I took a few breaths and told myself not to let it get to me, and concentrated on kicking some ass. Imagine my delight when the final buzzer went off and I had stopped every single one of their shots. I couldn't stop thinking "Clearly I need to be a better goalie. I just shut you bitches out". Unfortunately in the handshake line I couldn't identify the one who'd come over to spout off at us. We didn't win- it was a 0-0 tie, but we still shut them down just the same. I've never had a shutout feel sweeter. 

Our Sunday morning game turned out to be the championship game. The way the tournament was organized, in our division, there was no actual "championship game". The winner was to be decided on a basis of points. But by Sunday morning, it was clear that whoever won our game would win the tournament. And they were just a step faster than we were. We hung in there for most of the game, with the score tied at 2, but in the last few minutes they just really turned it on and we ended up losing 4-2. I didn't even beat myself up over it though- I know I played damn well. We all did. We were just slightly outmatched.

All bullcrap aside, it was a great tournament, and we had a great time. I haven't even written about the fantastic awesomeness that was the Beer Festival... but really what is there to say except that I tried A LOT of beers and even loved some of them, but as luck would have it, I misplaced the program where I made all my notes. I'm actually kind of peeved about that. Anyone on the team will tell you I'm a huge beer aficionado (ok, snob) and I was very much looking forward to trying a lot of quality beers I'd never had. I can tell you though, that my favorite by far was Heady Topper. I was in that line no less than three times. And it was a pretty long line.

Right now I'm on vacation, but we are back on the ice fighting the good fight this coming weekend - this time in Bethlehem, PA. And this time, we're bringing THREE teams. Heads up, bitches. Here come the Quarry Cats. 

Fighting MS in Vermont - Part 1

It's not every day your team makes it onto a newscast. But then again, it's not every day your team gets a chance to help raise money for MS research. This year the QCats brought two teams to the Hockey Fights MS tournament held in South Burlington, Vermont, and I was fortunate to be one of the goalies. I was very excited about it, not just because of the location (and, as luck would have it, the beer fest going on that weekend), but also because a good friend of mine was recently diagnosed with MS.

It was quite a drive but it was so worth it. It was a typical tournament schedule: one game on Friday, two on Saturday, one on Sunday. But given the duration of the drive to get there (between 5 and 6 hours, depending on traffic), many of us decided to head up a day early. We seem to always do poorly in the first game of a tournament, and most of us are pretty sure that's due to the "road legs" we all have from the long drive to get there. So, on a Thursday morning in the middle of a heat wave, The Mayor and I hit the road. The further we got into the Adirondacks, the more beautiful the scenery got. We had the extra treat of taking a ferry to cross Lake Champlain from NY to VT. It was easy to find- all we had to do was follow the "Jesus car" signs:

Even though it was one more night to pay for in a hotel, it turned out to be a really good idea to head up early. When we got there, we had plenty of time to relax. We parked ourselves in the Captain's room, and as people arrived they drifted in and before long we had a typical QCat party in full swing.

Our games weren't until Friday evening, so we had a full day to explore the beauty of Vermont. Most of the team went on a three hour schooner ride, on a gorgeous wooden sailboat. They tried and tried to get me to join them, and as much as I love the water in general, and sailing in particular, the prospect of spending three hours in the blazing sun on a 95 degree day did not appeal to me in the least. Even with all my teammates and a cooler full of refreshments. I knew I made the right choice, but I was pretty bummed out when everyone was gone and I was left to my own devices. I had brought a book and intended to spend a few hours reading by the pool, but as luck would have it, when I went out to replenish our cooler ice, I ran into someone from another team with whom we're all friendly.  She mentioned that she and some friends were heading out to take a tour of the Magic Hat brewery, which was only minutes away. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly.  To be honest, at first I said no, because aaaaaahhh people I don't know. But I told myself to knock it off and take her up on the offer, and I was glad I did. We visited not only Magic Hat, but another brewery, Fiddlehead, at which I bought a mini growler of Double IPA to bring home for the hubs.

Given that most of the team was out on their booze cruise, I was a little worried about the game Friday night. As a twitter friend pointed out, dehydration and heat stroke would probably make for a pretty busy game for me. I needn't have worried. I had three shots. And regrettably, one goal. Games like those are actually extremely difficult, because keeping your focus is a real challenge (as you can tell by that abysmal GAA).

Friday night was a pretty tame night, because we all had early games on Saturday morning, and my team's first game was in a rink a half an hour away. (In the middle of a cornfield. I shit you not.) It was a much more even affair, and we came away with a 2-1 win. With only two hours between the end of that game and the beginning of the next, we high-tailed it out of there so we had time to hit the Ben & Jerry's factory on the way back to the other, closer, rink. There wasn't enough time for a tour, but there was plenty of time to enjoy some delicious ice cream.

(I'm the one in the vulgar t-shirt. And championship hat.)

It turned out to be pretty good pre-game fuel, despite my reservations about having a belly full of dairy product before a game. Of course, the fire in my belly from the nonsense that went on before the game probably had a lot more to do with my overall performance. As luck would have it, we were matched up against a team we'd faced in a tournament earlier this year, one that played dirty, and had a player who, coming out of the penalty box at the end of the game, actually checked one of the refs.  We should have known we were in for some drama when the passive aggressive commentary started out in the parking lot when two of our players passed two of theirs. Were we entirely innocent in the shenanigans that followed? Probably not. But we decided to give back to them a little of what they gave to us. 

Day One wrap-up

A day that began with a mercy-kill shellacking ended with the Rangers clinching a playoff berth with a marvelous overtime goal by none other than Captain Cally. That dude is clutch. Since NBC was broadcasting a completely meaningless game in the "road to the playoffs", we Ranger fans resorted to finding a live stream online to watch a game that actually mattered. Two or three people were clustered around Spitfire's laptop, and with cheering that erupted with that overtime goal, you'd have thought it was an actual playoff game. But since we were all pretty much certain the Rangers' playoff chances would come down to the very last game - against the Devils - we were elated to have that monkey off our backs.

I know.... I'm not here to write about the Rangers. But that game, even the 10 minutes of it that we saw, was much more interesting to write about than our own.  We are in the unfortunate position of having been bumped up to a tier I'm not entirely sure we belong in, after last year's win. One would think you'd at least be allowed the chance to defend your title before being moved up a division,  but when you look at the fact that there are only 3 other teams in Tier 1, I suppose they had to move us in order to get four teams in the tier. I don't think the rest of the games are going to be this bad (God, I hope not), but yesterday was pretty painful. They were just everywhere. We were down 6-1 at the end of the first period, and managed to stop the bleeding for the most part in the 2nd and 3rd, but by then it was too late. They scored another goal in the 2nd (two, actually, but one was waved off because the net had come off), so with a 6 goal differential going into the 3rd, we went to running time. That, for me, was a blessing. I'm not sure how many shots I had. And with that many goals you can imagine how I feel about my game. All I know is by the time we got off the ice I could barely stand and was weak with low blood sugar. Poutine's husband told me "you played triple the game you usually play". Still, it didn't feel too good to lose like that. We did manage to get one more in the 3rd, but they came right back with a few of their own. The official score was 8-2. The actual score was 10-2. Ouch.

After the game, Flipper was in the rink bar and a guy walked up to her and said "You're #29, right? You have an A on your jersey?" Besides being slightly creeped out by this complete stranger's ability to recognize her out of her gear, she stayed long enough to hear him tell her that the other team had one former Olympian, a couple Division 1 players, and a couple UNH players. I'm not sure how much stock I'd put in that information from some random creeper at the bar, but it sure does make us feel better about the beating we took.

Right now it's slug-ville at our condo. Pretty soon I have to get my butt in gear and work on my stretching/mobility though. I've been keeping right on schedule with my training, but this vacation has thrown a bit of a monkey wrench into it. I had it all planned out; even though I was going to be away, I'd do some body-weight workouts to keep myself going. Except then I looked at the schedule and realized all our games are at 2pm (ish). I asked Maria if I should be doing workouts in the morning with a game that early in the day and she said no, probably not. I said I didn't want to get behind on my training, and she said "don't forget we train to win- so go and win some games". Duh. I had to laugh at myself. As dedicated as I am to this training program I completely forgot the whole purpose. So I guess I can give myself a few days off if it means I'll be better prepared for the games. Certainly don't need to deplete my energy stores, if the games are going to be like they were yesterday.

Today's opponent: Mass Attack. Yeah. All the teams in this tier are from MA. We're gonna need all the help we can get.

Just sayin'

Testing....

I re-read the posts from Nationals last year and got all wistful. And then I thought "wow I bet there's an app that will let me blog from my phone!" And then I thought "that could be dangerous....". So here's a test post from the Blogger app. Have to get everything all set. A week from tomorrow I will be in full on hockey vacation mode. Muahahaha this is going to be fun!

Things I Learned At Nationals

It's been about a week and most of us Cats still have that giddy feeling, though the real world has slowly crept in to bring us back down to earth. But before all the magic is gone, I figured I should record a few things I learned.

- Walking through the airport en masse in your hockey jerseys looks really badass.

- My hockey bag weighs 58 lbs, though how much of that weight is sweat is unknown.

- Geckos do not like to be picked up.

- An athletic sock makes a great beer cozy.

- A Bentley convertible is a chick magnet.

- Manatees are very friendly and like to have their bellies rubbed.

- Having a lens fall out of your glasses is a great goalie delay tactic.

- A triple overtime game will draw every person in the rink into the stands.

- Eight pina coladas won't erase the pain of a fractured finger and severed tendon, but being a National Champion will, at least for a little bit.

- In a pinch, frozen broccoli can be used in place of ice cubes in a vodka tonic.

- Do we have the best team on the entire planet? Bitch, please.

NATIONAL. CHAMPIONS.

Flipper is crashed on the couch with a Stella. GoalieHusband is standing in the lanai watching bad golfers (with a Magic Hat). Flipper's husband is snoring in the easy chair. And I'm getting a quick blog post in before we all converge on the hot tub and ease our aching muscles and joints. (Also with a Magic Hat).

When we got up this morning and headed to the rink for our 8 a.m. game, we never imagined we'd still be playing at 10:20. When we were sitting in the locker room all groggy, we never imagined we'd have a player with a broken finger shoved in an ice bag after the 1st overtime, when they forced us off the ice to resurface it. (She refused a splint, because then she wouldn't be able to get her finger into her glove). But what was not ever a question in my mind, was that we would come out of this as champions. As we walked into the rink this morning, I turned to Flipper and said "You know we're going to win this, right?" She grinned and nodded.

We played the only team we lost to this weekend, ironically the team from Westchester NY, who we play all year long. When we played them on Friday afternoon, it was an extremely chippy affair which we lost 4-3 after scratching and clawing our way back from a 3-0 deficit racked up in the first few minutes of the first period. They came out strong, and we had a weak first period. But after that we got into the game and nearly tied it.  Finding out that they were the team we'd be facing in the championship game just made it that much sweeter.

At this point I'm so exhausted I can't remember many details, other than Jullee's broken finger, a concussion-prone player going hard into the boards in the 6th period and panicking us all when she immediately grabbed her head, only to buy us time, a few miraculous toe saves, and what felt like millions of amazing saves by the goalie on the other end. But three minutes and 58 seconds into that period, "Bentley" won the puck in a battle down in the corner off to the goalie's right, and dished it out  to "Poutine", who was waiting in the slot and slammed it home.  Players poured off the bench, and I booked down to the other end of the ice to jump into the pile. My joy was tempered by sympathy for the other goalie, who was on the ice just behind our jubilant knot of players, but I pushed that aside and celebrated with my girls. (I did end up turning to her and telling her I thought she played an absolutely amazing game, but of course she was in no mood to hear it right then). 

I have to say, USA Hockey does it right. They had a pile of white hats with the logo and "National Champions" on the side. They gave each of us an acrylic puck with the same sentiment, and a large duffel bag that says USA Hockey on one side and NATIONAL CHAMPIONS on the other. We have all decided that we are going to use those bags as our carry-ons on the plane on the way home.

Flipper keeps saying "Who's better than us?" and grinning and answering her own question with "No one!!!"

This one tastes really, really, good, and is going to last us a nice long while.

Ahhhhh.... vacation!

It's not even 8 a.m., and I'm flopped on the couch with my netbook, enjoying the peace and quiet of the morning. As a matter of fact, the only thing this relaxing scene is missing, is a nice cup of coffee. Pardon me, I'll be right back...

Ahhh, much better! So, here we are, in Florida for Nationals. Flipper (@lct29) and her husband and GoalieHusband and I are staying in a lovely 2 BR condo overlooking a golf course. It's the perfect arrangement, because although KK has a condo and generously invited as many people who wanted to, to stay there, it's pretty much organized chaos over there all the time. Which, in moderate doses, is fun. But the four of us like our quiet time. Flipper's husband is a morning person too, and yesterday when Flipper came out and saw us both sitting quietly on the couch reading, she said "Oh my God, I've walked into a library".

But this is pretty much the only place where we're quiet. I really have to apologize to the people on United flight 1223. We were pretty rowdy on the way down. Hey, the flight attendant announced us over the P.A. at the beginning of the flight. With an introduction like that, you're off to a great start. We also all wore our bright red jerseys, and turned lots of heads walking through the airport en masse. A few random Canadians even came up to talk to us.

Since our first day was a travel day only, no games, we made the trek from the airport to the condos and descended upon KK's living room for the Bruins game. I was itching to watch it, because there'd been a buzz on twitter that Rask might be starting. (Which I thought was insane, starting a goalie just back from injury in a Game 7, but hey, I didn't want to miss it.) There was pizza and beer and merriment, but it was all quite tame. Flipper's husband was surprised, and I think just a little disappointed, after having been warned for months that things can get a little crazy down here. But travel day is like that. We called it a night a few hours after the game ended, and most of us were laying on the couch like slugs, in various stages of drowsiness.

The next day we got a nice early start, since our game was in a rink over 60 miles away. (The great thing about the condos is comfy and inexpensive accommodations, but the drawback is a long drive to the rinks). Fortunately that was our only game in that rink. We got there ridiculously early, signed in, browsed the USA Hockey t-shirt table, and eventually made our way to the locker rooms to get changed. Everyone was greeted with a custom skate mat, with our logo and "National Cats 2012" on it. The player we call "Bentley", for the gorgeous powder blue luxury car she has down here, had had the mats made for us as a surprise. But it was like Christmas in that locker room, because not only were the mats handed out, but Flipper and her cohort had had t-shirts made, since they were such a big hit at last year's tournament. These shirts are just as awesome. Anything that says "GET IN THE CAR, BITCHES!" on the sleeve gets my vote.

It felt like an eternity, but we finally got onto the ice for our first game. We played against the Lady Everblades, a Florida team we hadn't faced last year. We played very well, and for most of the first period I didn't have much to do. We scored first, a gorgeous shot from the point that made the back of the net balloon out. Although I had long stretches of inactivity, there were several scrums and a few breakouts that kept me busy. Unfortunately on one of those scrums, they scored. There were just way too many of them in front of the net and although I made an initial save (or two?), they were successful on the ensuing scramble. I was pretty frustrated, because with so few shots, I felt I shouldn't be letting anything in. Fortunately, we scored again to gain the lead, and it ended at 2-1. There was a big cooler full of LaBatt's waiting for us in the locker room, and we hung out in there for quite a while afterwards. (Can I just say one thing about that locker room? Best. Rink shower. Ever.)

We headed back to the condos, with the plan of meeting up at a bar on the beach, but 30 miles into the trip, GoalieHusband realized he'd left his keys at the rink, and still had the locker room key in his pocket. Since we aren't playing any more games at that rink, we had to head back to get them. Note to self: If you're not the driver, don't hand your keys over for the locker room key. Way too easy to forget. We got back with just enough time to hit the supermarket for a few necessities (read: beer) and head over to KK's for the Rangers and Devils Game 7 double-header. As Flipper put it, we had the trifecta of hockey awesomeness, with a win for the Cats, Rangers and Devils all in the same day.

Now I'm just waiting for the others to wake up, and we'll head over to Waffle House for some breakfast with the rest of the group. Game time today is 4:45. Tomorrow we play at 10 a.m. Sunday, if we make the championship game, is at 8 a.m. Good thing the goalie's a morning person, eh?

Ants in my pants

I get all agitated the day or so before I go on vacation. GoalieHusband says I have ants in my pants. And goalie pants are big. They fit a lot of ants. Fortunately I've been focused so much on work that I haven't thought much about the trip, but now as departure looms closer I'm in full fidgety mode. I'm not packed yet, but I'll have plenty of time to do that tonight, as I wait around for game time.

Yep, the Silverhawks have a game tonight, at 11:20pm. Normally with such a late ice time I'd take a nap in the evening. No chance of that today. I'll be packing my clothes, and four games' worth of underthings, but my gear is going to have to wait. We'll get home probably a little before 2 a.m., and I'll hang the gear up in the basement, but it's going to get all packed up all over again several hours later. Wooooo is that bag going to be ripe. I didn't even get a lock for it this year; hockey stank is in a theft deterrent class all its own.

We fly out tomorrow afternoon, and I'm bouncing off the walls with excitement. We'll be settled in our condos in plenty of time to catch the Bruins game, which is a damn good thing, because there's a slight possibility Rask might be playing. (If him being the first player on the ice for practice this morning is any indication, that is. I'm not familiar with Bruins goalie pecking order in terms of getting on the ice.) Even better, our first game, which is on Thursday, is in the afternoon. Which means when the Rangers/Sens game starts, my ass will be firmly planted in front of a TV. I will join in with the partying after the game is over- no way am I missing this one! Hopefully Flipper and her husband (with whom we're sharing a condo) will be amused, and not annoyed, by all the shouting that is sure to occur.

As I did on the April Showers trip, I will be taking the GoalieHousehold netbook along, and posting about our games and revelry. But first things first. The Silverhawks face off against PBR. Yes, that is really their name. We seriously can not lose to a team named after a crappy beer. Really, why not just call your team "Urine Colored Water"? Then again, our name isn't so spectacular either, since it makes it sound like we're the house team for the old age home.

Alright. Focus. First Silverhawks, then flying (aaaaah!), then tournament (and playoff hockey!). BOO YAH!

Pure Poetry

Last year we stayed in a teammate's condo when we were in Florida for Nationals. It's a fantastic arrangement. There's just no way you're not going to have fun when a whole team is crammed into two condo units. One unit had a very large screened-in patio in the back, facing a lake. In the lake there was an alligator. No lie. I saw it myself. This is why no one was allowed to sleep on the patio. There were also, despite all the screens, dozens of geckos running around in the patio, to my complete delight. This was all well and good when we were just hanging out, but as the week wore on we began spreading our equipment out in the sun to dry. Several people were concerned that they'd pack up their gear and get to the rink only to have a gecko pop out of the bag. Or worse, find a gecko corpse in the bag, having been asphyxiated by the hockey stank. 


The condos, as great as they were, were unfortunately quite a distance from the rink. It was a roughly 45 minute drive each way, and to amuse ourselves during the commutes, @lct29 (Flipper) and I began composing haikus. This kept us entertained for several car rides, and we still crack up even now when we think about them. Here were our two best:


Oh mini lizard
Stay out of my hockey bag
No dirt naps allowed!
                    -by me
 
Governor concerned
Beer supplies dwindling
Liver rest needed!
                    -by Flipper


The practice of making up haikus stuck, and we still will randomly email them to each other, usually when we are at our most stressed out. Flipper even was on a haiku-a-day streak for quite a while, but both of us had kind of forgotten about them for the last month or so. Until today. In the midst of my harsh return to reality at work, towards the end of another draining day in which I'm expected to continue working when no one knows anything about anything, I got an email from Flipper. She must be having the same kind of day I am, because she chronicled the entire tournament, using haikus. I got her permission to share the joy with all of you:


Game on Friday Night
Decide to hit road early
No slug-Cats on ice!!!!
 
Cats win the first game
Goalie kicks ass in shoot-out
Friday night curse ends!!!
 
Sleepy Cats on ice.
BUT Goalie loves the morning!
Hell's Belles fall to Cats.
 
Second game of day
Cats win a nail biter
See it on You Tube!
 
New game ritual
Meow mix song with Goalie*
Hey...it really works!
 
Cats like to party!
But we like to win games more
Early night for most.
 
Another shut out
Claudia gets a hat trick
The Cats win it all.




*We have a tradition that before the start of each period, we get into a group at the bench, someone yells "Cats on three! 1 - 2- 3 " and we all yell "CATS!" Once in a while as we're skating away someone will add a "meow!" which sometimes sounds suspiciously like "beer!". Well this weekend, I was moved by the Hockey Gods to sing the "Meow Mix" song to Flipper as we skated back to our positions on the ice to start the period. From that point forward, we sang it after every "CATS" chant. I know it was divine inspiration, because we won all our games. So from now on, we must always sing the "Meow Mix" song to each other. It cracks us up to no end, which is probably a good thing. I find myself wondering if it will catch on, and the entire team will start doing it. I think if that happens, the refs will surely find some kind of penalty to give us for making their ears bleed.

Safe words, and post-tourney bliss

I would have blogged about our third game on Saturday night, but I was spent. (And we were partying). It was incredibly intense. We scored first, but then they got two goals I beat myself up pretty badly about. It held at 2-1 for quite some time, well into the 3rd period. I was thinking to myself, we CAN NOT lose this game, we just CAN NOT. Play was mostly in the other end, but the two goals against came off breakouts by the same speedy little forward both times. But with 3 minutes left, we scored to tie it. And then with about a minute left, we had a breakaway of our own and scored for the win. The whooping and hollering sounded like a championship game itself, but the relief was immense. Those two goals put us into the final game, to be played at 9:50 Sunday morning. With that in mind, we enjoyed ourselves at the Saturday night league-hosted party, but kept our merriment to a compressed schedule. I'd say most of us were in bed by 11pm.

That's not to say there wasn't plenty of blog-worthy ridiculousness. All day I've been remembering things I wanted to blog about, but 4 hours behind the wheel aren't conducive to note-taking. The best story though, certainly can not be forgotten. There was a raffle of gift baskets as a fund raiser for the tournament and their selected cause (a local young girl with leukemia), and one of our players had put a copious amount of tickets into the "spice" undergarments basket. (It's a womens' line of hockey undergarments. These particular items were a sports bra and coordinating velcro shorts in a saucy red and black tiger print).  Our player, we'll call her "M", was lucky enough to win the basket. Now, "M" and another player, "F", are both openly gay and can be quite graphic about their exploits. They're also two of the biggest horn dogs on the team. "G", a happily married heterosexual mother of two, who is just a little shy when it comes to hearing all their stories, got caught between them. M was holding her prize, and G got sandwiched between M and F, in slightly more than a friendly hug. The next thing you know, G is yelling "baseballs!!!! baseballs!!!" and M and F are literally rolling on the floor with laughter. Apparently, "baseballs" was G's 'safe word'.

At this point I had the following thoughts: "G has a safe word???? Wow, I am totally lame in comparison". And then "Wait.... G has a safe word and both M and F know it?!?!? Whoa..."  Fortunately for my self-assessed coolness-factor, we found out the next day that G had said previously that she needed a safe word for when M and F start getting into "uncomfortable" territory. One of them told her "baseballs" would do. I know, it makes the story much less lurid, but it made me feel a little better.

This was revealed in the locker room as we prepared for our championship game. M was conspicuously absent for quite a while, and when she arrived, we understood why. Someone had been indulging in juuuust a tad too much Scotch the night before, it would seem. M was not in good shape. I guess she sweat it out of her system though, because she ended up having a good game. We all did... although I didn't really have to do much at all. I'm not positive of the shot total, but I'd be stunned if I had more than 12 or 15. We went up 2-0 very quickly, within the first 3 minutes or so. Their goalie seemed awfully shaky, and we took advantage of that. At the end of the first it was 3-0, and we scored another in the second. An empty net goal in the third sealed it, and we won by a score of 5-0.

We were pretty surprised. We'd been expecting a game similar to our first one; somewhat chippy, and pretty challenging. We hadn't faced this team previously in the tournament, as the final was the top team from each of two separate divisions. Given that our previous games were all quite close, we're confident we won't get boosted up to the next level based on that final game score alone. We played in that level last year, and scored one goal  in all three games combined. So, while this game was a pretty easy one for me, I was happy to be playing on a Sunday morning, instead of packing up the hotel room in a leisurely fashion and lingering over the breakfast buffet.

Now I'm home, and I've uploaded the post-game celebration pictures to Facebook and basked in all the comments and "likes". I cooked GoalieHusband and I a nice dinner and we're watching the Ranger game on DVR. (No one spoil it please). What a fantastic weekend, and so sorely needed. We don't want it to end. But it's back to the office tomorrow, although I'll have a pretty damn good picture to put on my desktop monitor. And in four short weeks, it's time for the debauchery of Nationals down in Florida. Tournament season RULES!

Two down, one... two?... to go

The down-time between games on Saturday: it's never enough time to really take a good nap, but it's just enough to make you wish you could. So here I am, blogging after a nice burger (protein!) and beer (carbs!) and the hotel restaurant.

Friday night's game was a very intense one. It was fast, and it got progressively chippier as the game went on. The other team scored first, a goal I really wanted back. It started out as a screen, but I yelled and Flipper moved out of the way just in time for me to pick up the shot, but I didn't get my pad down in time and it slipped underneath it. Very frustrating. That score held through the second, and most of the third, but fortunately The Mayor managed to poke in a rebound no one else seemed to see. Hallelujah. I would have felt like complete and total ass if we'd lost that game on that one goal. It would have completely sealed the "Friday night game curse" for me. But, as there are no ties in this tournament, we went straight to a shootout. No problem. I was definitely in the zone, and I knew I had it. I stuffed all three of their shooters, and our last shooter scored, off a series of sweet moves that had the goalie going too far to her left. It was an easy goal at that point.

I can't even express how relieved I was that we got that Friday night game monkey off our backs. And I was very happy to have had a hand in our comeback, after allowing that crappy goal.  I think I grinned all the way back to the hotel. After showers, we all met up in one of the rooms, which had  been upgraded to a suite, so there was plenty of room for us to all hang out. It was subdued revelry though, as we had a game at 11:00 the next day.

Which was today. Everyone was all pumped up, going into a Saturday game that actually meant something. (If you lose on Friday night, the chances of making the final game are virtually nill.) We wore our black jerseys again, since we felt so bad-ass in them the night before. We ended up winning, by a score of 2-0, but it was nerve-wracking for me. The play was in the other zone most of the time, and we kept getting close calls, but nothing was going in. Then they had a breakaway on me and I pulled one of those toe saves that everyone on the bench loves. After that, it was still pretty one-sided on our part but we still couldn't score. Finally, in the third period, we got one. And I had a sneaky feeling that we were going to need two, that something weird was going to happen, a strange bounce or completely bad luck. There was one save I made where the puck bounced up strangely, but fortunately it landed on the side of my pad, instead of out in the middle of the crease for anyone to pick off.

So, we have one more game this afternoon, and if we win, we have the final game tomorrow morning. Which is at some obnoxious time like 9a.m. But first we have to win this afternoon. The team we're playing lost to this morning's opponents 1-0, so it could be a pretty close game. And afterwards is the big party here in the hotel atrium. Flipper and The Mayor have a room right on the ground floor, with a sliding door opening onto the patio of the atrium, so we'll be in perfect position to refresh our beer without having to pay an arm and a leg at the bar. And there may even be some swimming, since the pool is open this year. I wonder if they'll have the mechanical bull again???? Beer, swimming, and bull-riding. What could possibly go wrong? ;)

On The Road Again

Ever since I was about 5 years old, my family has been making annual pilgrimages to Cape Cod for a week in the summer. My mom's side of the family is from there, so we have a big 'ol reunion every year. It's a blast. One year, when my sister and I were still living at home in the summers, during our college years, we had to take two cars because my Dad had to leave halfway through the week to go to work. My parents were in one car, my sister and I were in the other. It was the mobile equivalent of the "kids' table" at Thanksgiving dinner. That trip remains to this day one of the best in my memory.

One thing that made it especially memorable was our method of communication between the two cars. My Dad had the brilliant idea to purchase a set of walkie-talkies. They were clearly intended to be nothing more than toys, as they were both bright yellow plastic, one with a red knob on the end of the antenna, the other with a yellow one. They didn't work unless the cars were very close to each other, and to conserve battery life, we left them switched off until we needed to communicate. The signal to turn your walkie-talkie on was someone from the other car waving their walkie-talkie out the window. It was nothing short of fantastic.

Fast forward holy crap is it really something like 20 years- and Flipper (@lct29) The Mayor and GoalieHusband and I are on our way up to a tournament in Massachusetts.  Flipper and The Mayor are in one car, and GoalieHusband and I are following behind. Cell phones have eliminated the need for ridiculous walkie-talkie displays out the car windows, but the content of the messages wasn't much more mature. In response to an "Are we there yet????" text, The Mayor proceeded to text us every two miles to tell us how many more miles of the trip were yet to be traveled. There were also several Beavis & Butthead-esque exchanges, as well as lots of speculation as to where exactly my hands were, if they weren't both on the steering wheel.

I'm not sure I believe in coincidences, but let's just pretend for a moment- by coincidence, my sister happened to call just as we were heading up I-495. I told her where we were, and that I'd been thinking about that trip we made up to the Cape so many years ago. She laughed and said "Oh, the time we were rocking out in the car the entire time?" Yep. That was the other thing that made it so memorable. A complete performance of Bohemian Rhapsody at as high a decibel level as that 1995 Neon would allow.

So here we are. Relaxing for a bit before heading over to the rink for our first game, which is at 9:40. We're aiming to get there early, so we have time to check in, and oggle all the gift baskets available for "auction". (It's a tricky-tray type thing.) I just remembered that last year there were several Bruins baskets. One of them had several Tuukka-signed items in it. I bought tickets for it, but didn't win. If there is anything even remotely Tuukka-associated this year, I'm buying butt-loads of tickets for it. That puppy will be MINE.

Time to log off for now... lines are being arranged, and I have to bring my jersey in from the balcony over the pool where I hung it the minute we got here.

GO CATS!!!

Get 'Em Next Time

It feels so weird to be writing about a tournament in February that I can't figure out how to get started. Perhaps my brain is warming up for the writer's block I'll have later when I finally force myself to sit down and work on my resume. (If I keep ignoring it, it'll go away.... right???)

The weekend started off with what could have been quite a disaster. Flipper (aka lct29) and The Mayor stopped at my office to pick me up, and we were barely 2 minutes into our journey when I spilled the entire cup of coffee I'd just purchased- all over my feet. If you've ever bought coffee at a Dunkin Donuts, you know they serve it at approximately 387*F. We were just pulling out of the parking lot and I let up a howl that had Flipper wondering where the nearest hospital was, and in my panic, I thought if I could just get out of the Jeep the pain would stop, so I opened the door and swung my legs out. That was when logic kicked in and I realized, duh, just take off your socks, idiot. With several people behind us, we couldn't just stop, so we pulled into a gas station next door to assess the damage.

I felt absolutely awful about dumping a whole cup of coffee into Flipper's car, but fortunately what didn't end up on my legs and feet all went on the floormat. There was a large angry red patch on my foot, but no blisters were forming, so we counted our blessings and I kept an ice pack from the cooler on my foot for the next hour. It did end up blistering, but not until sometime overnight. What saved me from a certain 3rd degree burn was the fact that I was wearing socks. Pretty ironic considering I'm a big proponent of being barefoot. Perhaps I need to reconsider that, at least when I've got a scalding hot cup of coffee in my hand.

Coffee mishap notwithstanding, it was an otherwise uneventful trip. We got to the hotel with plenty of time to spare, and made our way over to the rink early so there'd be time to figure out where we were going, and sign in, and all that fun stuff. I don't know if it's the stress of travel, or traffic or what, but we always seem to have a bad first game in our tournaments. I figured we'd be ok, with all the extra time we had, but that was not the case.

We definitely could have beaten the team we played, but all of us seemed to be a step off. We ended up losing 4-2, and I'd like just about all of those goals back. Monx77 was busy beating herself up over a turnover that resulted in a goal, but that certainly wasn't the deciding factor in the game. We just.... crapped the bed. That's the only way to describe it. The other team was ridiculously chippy and bitchy, too. So much so, that one player got called for unsportsmanlike conduct - mid game - for yapping at the ref. Apparently she'd been warned already but just kept at it. They took lots of penalties, and we only took one. And when we did get called for that penalty, their entire bench erupted in cheers. So, not the classiest team we've ever played.

That was Friday night, and since it was a late game we knew nothing would be open afterwards, food-wise, so Pants had brought up an entire sandwich and salad and cookies spread. We feasted in her room, all 13 of us jammed in there, listening to music and drinking beer and flinging ping-pong balls at each other in a modified version of "carpet pong". Gionta182 supplied us with a box of 36 balls, so for an all-female team, there were an awful lot of balls flying around.

We had two games on Saturday, and we played extremely well in both. The first was a 3-1 (I think???) win, and the second was a shutout for me, 5-0. If we'd played like that we'd have easily beaten Friday night's team. And that team was the one that ended up going on to the championship game, too. Those two things combined kind of stuck in our craw. Even though we had a great time and had two really strong games, we were all pretty bummed about not playing on Sunday. Discussing it on the ride home, Flipper and The Mayor and I decided it seemed to have a lot to do with playing right after traveling up there. (It was about a 4 1/2 hour trip). We have another tournament in just over a month, and we all decided that if we can, we'll take Friday off work and head up in the morning, so we're up there and settled way before game time. I know that would make a huge difference for me - I always seem to be janky and just not quite right when playing right after a road trip.  So the verdict for this one was: lots of fun, but we know we can do better, and are looking forward to the chance to prove it.

Rampin' up for tourney time

Given the fact that morale in my office is so awful right now, and we seem to be in the eyewall of the "things have to get worse before they get better" storm, I'm really looking forward to the coming tournament to take me away from it all. The last few years, "tournament season" hasn't started until April. We're getting a head start on it this year though, with a tourney in northern Massachusetts this weekend. I'm plodding through the week with my focus on that, and so far it's getting me through.

It should be an interesting one, as we have two tournament virgins coming along this time. Last night after practice, it was all we could talk about in the locker room. The two "virgins" asked what they should pack to wear, would we be going 'out on the town'? The Mayor told them to bring their nicest hoodies and sweats/pajama bottoms. The only "going out" we'll be doing will likely consist of beer or food runs, or possibly a meal in an establisment that wouldn't frown on a large group of smelly women in t-shirts and jeans. Ok, they might frown at the smelly part. And the raucous laughter that is sure to come from our table. But other than that- it's carpet pong and stupid drinking games in someone's hotel room. Oh yeah, and a bunch of hockey games.

Our first game is Friday night, and we've got several carpools heading north that afternoon. Mine will consist of lct29 and The Mayor, and I think by the time we get to the hotel our cheeks will be aching from laughter. We've got two games on Saturday, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and if we're lucky we'll play on Sunday in the championship game. We're bringing the red jerseys, since we got the stink-eye off them at the last tournament. Sadly, we'll be coachless. Both Hkygrl12 and GoalieHusband are unable to make the trip due to their schedules. I told GoalieHusband it's a good thing he's on twitter now because I usually tweet up a storm at tournaments. Now he can follow along with the idiocy his wife and "his girls" are creating. I'm sure he's oh so thrilled.

Just over 24 hours to go before departure. Time to dive back into the "real world" and get some work done. The ice is waiting.

Overdue...

See, I warned you about the burn-out. This post is now quite anti-climatic but I feel an obligation to write it so I can get on with more current posts. Plus, I threw that teaser in the last post, and I'd really be an asshole if I didn't come through on that.

After our first game that Sunday, which was at 9am, we knew we'd be in the final, which wasn't until 3:30. Flipper and I had already checked out of our hotel room, so we made a Dunkin Donuts run, came back and hung around in the rink snack bar for a bit, browsed the pro shop, and eventually went out to her car to have a snooze. We put the seats back, and ended up chatting like little girls at a sleepover for about an hour. Pretty soon though, we were lulled by the relentlessly pounding rain and both fell asleep for a good long while. Much needed, let me tell you.

We were one of the first ones in the locker room, as usual, and as players started filtering in, it was obvious everyone was already tired. We were pumped though, excited at the challenge of meeting up with the youngin's again. We were awfully amused at their age, which couldn't have averaged much more than 17, and one of the gals quipped: "Most of them probably haven't even had their period yet!" to which someone else responded "Yeah, and some of us don't have our period anymore!!!" The entire room lost it. Well, except for our own two youngins, a pair of 18 year olds who have come on other tournaments with us. I think it's a fair assumption to say they were horrified.

And here's where goldfish-brain kicks in. The details of the game at this point, I'm embarrassed to admit, are somewhat cloudy. I remember going up early, and the score staying at 2-1 for quite some time. Then they tied it, and it seemed like it stayed that way for an absolute eternity. I was wondering if we'd have another OT and shootout like we had in Ithaca, but with just a few minutes left, they started taking penalty after penalty, and we scored not once, but twice more. It was a very close game though. I played very well- I seem to play better with each game in these tournaments, almost like I'm saving my best for last. I'm not sure how that happens, but it does. Maybe the more exhausted I get, the better I play.

When the final buzzer blew, there had been a scrum in tight and I had just gotten to the puck to cover it. The horn sounded, and the girls on the other team let out a whoop and holler and hugged each other. I was momentarily confused. That 4-2 on the scoreboard was in our favor, right? Did I miss something? I'm not entirely sure what that celebration was all about but I cared for about three tenths of a second, and then I was swarmed with happy teammates. There are a few things as a goalie that just sort of define elation. One is the thunder of teammates' sticks against the boards in appreciation of a great save, and another is the pile-up at the end of a win as big as this one. It felt so great to be able to beat those kids.

Lined up on the blue line, awaiting our medals and trophy, we were all smiles. Well, we were until I embarrassed the hell out of Flipper. The announcer had asked who the captain was, and since our captain hadn't been able to make the trip, she and the other alternate looked at each other, each wanting the other to do the honors. Finally Flipper decided to go, and at the same time I turned to clap her on the back of the shoulder, which is when she tripped over my pad and did a faceplant on the ice. I. Felt. Awful. The ref even quipped "ok, not her". Oof. Yeah, with a bunch of cameras there, no one saw that. Not at all. Sorry, Flipper!!! You can trip me next time ok?

We got a nice shiny trophy, and each got pretty snazzy "gold" medals. And I was awarded the MVP puck for our team. Wow. I was really honored. And it's a pretty cool puck, too, because it has a mini plaque on it that says "Summer Sizzler 2011 MVP" or something to that effect. We took about a zillion pictures on the ice, and when we got back into the locker room I updated FB immediately: "could die of happiness right now". (Hey, family and friends were following along at home. I had to post right away. Don't call me an addict.)

Not a bad way to end "tournament season" at all.

Burnout? ...and overdue Tournament Blog

I'm finding that I am increasingly less inspired to blog than I used to be. I don't know if maybe it's burnout, but it seems like all my posts are the same. With this latest tournament, I have lots of cool things to write about, but it feels like it's just going to be the same post as all my other tournament posts have been. Maybe the key is writing more in the moment, rather than a few days after the fact. Maybe it's the fact that I update Twitter and Facebook in "real time" that makes me feel like writing a blog about it is old news. Regardless, I need to write about this one before much more time goes by.

I was looking forward to this tournament with a lot more anticipation than some of the others. I think it might be because it was our last one of the "season", and because I knew my sister was bringing her family to come watch me play. We also had the added excitement of facing the ringer team from our last tournament, the team we were supposed to have played in the championship game that was cancelled because of compressor malfunction.

Most tournaments we've done have had games stretched over two and a half days; Friday through Sunday. This one squeezed the same number of games into a much shorter time span. Our first game was on Saturday at 1pm, and our final (fourth) game ended up being at 3:30 pm on Sunday. There's something about the compressed schedule that made it a little more exciting as well, although it was also exhausting. It's Tuesday and I'm still recovering.

I just had a good feeling about this tournament from the start, despite the fact that it changed from a "C/D" level of competition to a "B/C/D" level. It seemed odd to all of us that they'd combine such a wide range of skills, but I think it was because they didn't have enough teams to create more than one division. Fortunately we had quite a decent mix on our roster as well, and thought we'd be pretty competitive. I think we were all looking forward to our first game, against the "ringer team" that had beaten us 9-1 in the previous tournament. Going in with a few ringers of our own, we figured we had a chance to at least give them a better fight this time around. Even so, I think we mostly expected to lose, and decided we might as well wear our red jerseys and get some use out of them.

Color us all kinds of surprised when we ended up beating them 4-3. It was a good close game, and in all fairness, they didn't have the exact same team and neither did we. They were missing one or two of their flashy end-to-enders, and we had some reinforcements from the C team. It was a good game, and we were elated to not only have beaten them, but have gotten the stink off our red jerseys.

For our next game, the second of the day, we were up against a team we'd played last year. I was looking forward to this game almost as much as I was to the first game, because for this one we were going to have fans. My sister and brother in law live about an hour from where we were playing, and they brought my nieces (ages 7 and 4) to see us play. I was ecstatic. I was even happier when we scored first, since given the wide range of competition level I wasn't sure if we'd be blown out in front of my family or not. That first goal took a little tiny bit of pressure of me (in my own mind). Unfortunately, they scored three quick ones right after that. I'm pretty sure all three of them were by the same player, one who apparently had a knack of making me look like a traffic cone. Very frustrating goals. It became apparent very quickly during the game that the average age of these players was somewhere around 18, at a very generous guess.

Toward the end of the 3rd period the score was 5-6, and they took a delayed penalty. I sprinted (as much as a goalie can sprint...) to the bench and the door was barely closed before everyone erupted in cheers. I whooped and hollered and I think I may have actually jumped up and down a little. Nothing like a tying goal with about a minute to go! I went back out to my net, but we couldn't manage a complete comeback. Still, a tie against what amounted to a U19 team felt like a pretty sweet win to all of us.

When I came off the ice to greet my family, my nieces were shy about coming up to me. "Go give her a hug", my sister prompted. I knelt down to make it easier, and the older one observed "it's really hard to hug you!", her arms barely making it around my chest protector. They were very enamored with my gear, and when I asked to pose for a picture with them, they insisted on each holding one of my sticks. My brother in law took what I think might be the most adorable picture on the entire planet:




The five of us went out for a bite to eat afterwards, and it was good to see them all, even if the girls were a little punchy due to it being WAY past their bedtime. But they weren't the only ones staying up late. After my sister dropped me back at the hotel, I figured @lct29 and I would call it a night pretty early, given our hectic day and our 9:00 ice time the next morning. I should have known it wasn't going to work out that way. Naturally we all ended up crowded into one room, yapping and laughing and playing drinking games. We had our college girls with us again, and they obliged me when I requested we play the game they taught us at the last tournament. Only about half of us played, but the other half had just as much fun watching us make idiots of ourselves. By 1:30 though I was ready to go, knowing we had to be up early the next day. I think @lct29 was ready way before that, but she waited for me to finish the game. (For the record, we have discovered that we make excellent roommates, and I think it's a pretty much foregone conclusion that if the QCats are on the road, we're rooming together. Yay for awesome roomies.)

Once again, I've rambled on far too long, so I will stop here and save the last two games for another post. Here's a teaser for you: our final game was against the "U19 team", which generated possibly the best locker room quote in the history of tournaments.

Catching up

I'm writing from the beach. I love the ocean but I'm not a typical beach person- I hate the sun and the crowds, but every year my family rents this cottage on the shore and I can sit inside if I have too much sun, and listen to the crashing of the waves and relax. Most years I'm fidgety because I'm missing hockey. One year we even left in the middle of the week to drive back home and play, and come back.

But not this year. This year, I sorely need this break. Maybe I've been making up for lost time since I broke my knee, but I've been going at full tilt. Hawks games, open hockey, five tournaments, rent-outs, subbing here and there, and keeping up with training when I can - I'm exhausted. I haven't written since that ridiculous foggy game, but since then we had another "Goat Rodeo", a Hawks game, I subbed for @gionta182's team, and we just finished a tournament, sort of.

The Hawks game, the final one of the season, was a 6-0 loss, but one after which we all felt really good. Sounds crazy, right? But as with most games, the score doesn't tell the whole ("hole") story. We went up against a team that was undefeated, the team that's moving up to the next division. A whole week ago now, I can't remember exactly how many skaters we had, but it wasn't many. Nine at the most? They had a full bench. And we lost 6-0 but every single person on the team left absolutely every last ounce of energy and will on the ice. I've never seen us so satisfied after a loss that lopsided, and it was well deserved.

Two days later I subbed for gionta182, and her team also was very short on players. And I was short on mojo. Big time. I had probably the worst game I've had in about two years... I can't even explain what happened because I haven't figured it out. I'm going to chalk it up to fatigue. But I let in some ridiculously soft goals, in succession, shot after shot. Fortunately after the first period I got my shit together. But that was just flat out awful. The worst part about it was feeling like I let gionta182 and her whole team down. But I've gotten over that now.

Whatever it was, it only lasted partly through the next game and now is gone. The next game was the first of our most recent tournament, and we faced a team of cheaters. There were two divisions. We were in the lower of the two, and this team would have skated circles around the teams in the higher division. They weren't even really a team, just a group made up of ringers. At the end of the first period it was 6-0 and I had that horrible sinking feeling, that "oh no, it's happening again" feeling. I pulled myself together, and they dialed it way back, and we got out of the game with a score of 9-2.

The next two were much better. The second game was a 7-2 victory, and the third was by far my best performance in a while; a 1-0 shutout. Maybe it was partly emotion that kicked me into high gear in the zone, as we had a scary moment in the first period when one of our players got hurt. She went into the dashers with her chin, head snapping back and back twisting strangely as she fell. An ambulance was called but she insisted on coming off the ice on her own. Play resumed but after a few minutes trying to recoup on the bench, she wasn't doing very well, so when the EMTs arrived, she was taken to the hospital. We learned later she had one broken rib, and given how dizzy she was I wouldn't be surprised if she had a concussion as well. She's kicking my ass in Words With Friends though, so she can't be all that befuddled right now.

When we got off the ice after that 3rd game, knowing that that win guaranteed us a spot in the championship game, against Ringer Team, we unanimously decided to wear our red jerseys. Now, these jerseys were purchased at the beginning of last season, a fun "3rd jersey" to complement our regular ones, but they seem to be cursed. We have never won a game in them. We even wore them in an exhibition game against a team we usually beat, hoping to get the stank off them, but we lost that one too. At first no one listened to gionta182 when she insisted they were cursed, but now no one wants to wear them in a game that means anything. But with a game against the Ringer Team, we figured we had nothing to lose. I know a lot of us were looking forward to it; coming off two very strong games, we were in a position to give them a little more fight than we had in that first game, and I knew I was going to play a lot stronger than I had.

Unfortunately, we never got our opportunity. It's almost comical at this point, really. Recall that we decided the night before to wear our red jerseys in this championship game. The game wasn't until 1:30, so I was lounging in my hotel room when the phone rang at 10:30. It was gionta182, calling me from the rink parking lot. There was a sign on the door saying that due to "unforeseen ice conditions", the rink was closed. Closed?!!? But.... we had a championship game to play! I contacted the QCats' tournament organizer and informed her, and she discovered she had an email saying the rink compressors had died and the game was canceled.

Given that the previous three days had been over 100 degrees, I'm not surprised. This wasn't one of the better rinks we've played in (which is putting it very diplomatically) and I'm sure it wasn't well prepared for keeping two ice surfaces frozen in temperatures like that. Although we knew we didn't stand much of a chance, it was a huge disappointment. I know I'd been looking forward to one last challenge, and leaving without playing the championship game was pretty anti-climactic. However, GoalieHusband and I had delayed our vacation for the tournament, so when all was said and done, we arrived here at the beach earlier than we thought, which gave us some time to spend with relatives we'd otherwise have missed.

So you know what this means. Not only is the Red Jersey Curse real, it apparently extends to mechanical equipment as well. We better get the schneid off them before we travel to Florida again next year. They've been designated as travel jerseys, but at this point, I'd be afraid to get on a plane wearing one.

But there's another tournament and a whole hockey season ahead of us before we have to worry about that. Right now, I think I'll just lay on the beach (under an umbrella, of course) for the week and read. My body is giving me all kinds of signals that I need to slow the f*** down and recuperate for a bit. I've learned I ought to listen to it.

Have a good week or so, folks. I doubt I'll be writing much in that time frame. Our next tournament is the second week in August, and the new Hawks season starts somewhere around that time. Until then... zzzzzzzzzzz....

Tournament Recap

I've come full circle with tournaments now. This tournament was the first one I participated in last year, and it got my feet wet as far as the whole tournament vibe goes. I went from the nervous almost-bystander to one of the "old standbys" on the team. And this tournament always seems to mean a little more to me, not just because there's someone's memory we're playing for, but also because I will never forget the day when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of ponytails hanging out of the helmets of the players out there on the ice.

I was really, really pumped for this tournament. Nervous, too, as we were going to be missing a few key players. If that happens in the middle of the season, there are a few players from the C team who fill in for us. But since the C team had their own division to worry about, we couldn't borrow any of their players. We did have one guest though, hkygrl12, who used to play on the C team but hadn't played for the QCats this season. It was great having her on the team. Even if I did have to make a save on her. ;)

The first team we faced was one who we used to play, but left this season for an "actual" league, so we had no idea what we'd be up against. Had they gotten better, playing in the "real" league? We needn't have worried. We played very well, and much of the game was spent in their zone. The D played great, and I earned myself a shutout, in spite of hkygrl12's late 3rd period deflection, which I pounced on and we laughed about. It felt good to get that win under our belts, as we had gone 0-3 in the tournament last year.

GoalieHusband coached that game, but due to his work schedule he missed our second game, which was at noon the next day (Saturday). Fortunately our former coach, Coach D, filled in for that one. We knew it was going to be a difficult game, because we were familiar with this opponent. As a matter of fact, two of their players had come to Florida with us. And each time we played them during the season it was always a very tough game.

If it wasn't for the "epic awesomeness" of the final game in the tournament, this one would have been the most memorable for me. On some level, really, it is, in that I personally had an excellent game and have several things to lock away in the goalie vault for future use when I'm feeling like a crappy goalie. Coach D even told me it was the best game he'd ever seen me play. What was the final score? 5-1, and not in our favor. In truth, it was a closer game than it sounds by that score, thanks in part to yours truly.

Prior to the game, in the locker room, Coach D mentioned something about me playing the puck, and I proudly volunteered that I'd actually done it quite a few times in Friday night's game. He told me he liked that, and I should keep it up. (You know where this is going, don't you...) So of course, when I thought I saw an opportunity for me to jump up and clear the puck, I figured I should take it. I don't know exactly what happened to the D, but they must have had as big a brain fart as I did, because lct29 said as soon as they came off the ice, Coach D said "you two are in time out". And, knowing they screwed up, they actually stood facing the wall, with their backs to the ice (grinning at each other, of course). I wish I had seen that. It might have made me laugh and forget that I just really made a blunder. I'd gone out to just about the half boards to get the puck, and instead of pushing it past the opponent coming down the wall, pretty much pushed it right towards her. I scrambled back to the net, and I think she passed to another player who was coming down the middle, who took the shot. All I know is, I got there just in time to get a skate on it... and have it bounce into the net behind me.

UGH.

Fortunately I redeemed myself by not letting it get to me, and continuing to play a really strong game. Even though we lost, I actually felt pretty good coming off the ice, because I felt some more of that shift I talked about in my review of the last Hawks game. I just felt like I was in that at-home goalie place. You know when you're away at a hotel for a while, and come back home and snuggle into your own bed, and your whole body just goes "ahhh.... HOME."? It's kind of like that. Only on ice. And with a lot more sweat. I had a save on a wide open back door chance that I definitely have on the personal highlight reel in my head. When we set up for the ensuing face-off, I heard Coach D yell my name from the bench. I looked up, and he flung both arms out wide. I had no idea what he was trying to say, maybe that I'd really flung my legs out? I just gave him the nod and focused on the puck drop. After the game I asked him about that and he said "You just absolutely amazed me with that save". *inner happydance*

That game absolutely wiped me out, but the day was far from over. I stuck around at the rink for the rest of the day, because I had to put in another shift at the table, smiling and being all kinds of helpful and friendly, and selling raffle tickets and t-shirts. GH showed up soon after that, and we caught two periods of gionta182's game before heading outside to set up for the BBQ. As successful and fun as the two womens' divisions of the tournament were, I think the co-ed "AIL" division was just the opposite. It's unfortunate that teams have to resort to bringing junior players to an adult instructional level tournament, but I guess that's what happens when there's absolutely no system of checks and balances at the rink. I think I'll just say that's not what this tournament is about, and that it really does a disservice to Michele Polis' memory, and leave it at that. Gionta182's team did a fantastic job of staving off the onslaught from the ringers, though. Major kudos to her and her team, and to her goalie, who I was really impressed with. I wonder if rebound control is contagious. If it is, maybe I absorbed some from watching him. He just gobbled up every single puck.

The BBQ was a success, with GH as Grill Master just like last year. The rain fortunately held off until just after we finished announcing the raffle winners. Alas, I did not win the coveted Henrik Lundqvist signed stick. I did however walk away with a $50 gift certificate to a hockey store in the area, so now maybe I'm that much closer to replacing my shoddy sticks. The Lundqvist stick went to a former QCat member, so hey, at least it's still in the family.

With all that the day took out of me, and a game at 9 a.m. the next day, I definitely didn't have it in me to burn the midnight oil. I have to admit I was a lame old fart and headed home at a (somewhat) sensible time. I'm glad I did, too. Even though there was no realistic way we'd make it into the final, we really needed to win the next game.

Sunday morning's game was against a team we play very frequently and subsequently are on quite good terms with. This is the team that invited us to play at the Devils practice ice at the Prudential Center a few weeks ago. An exhibition game in which we wore our red jerseys, thinking we'd get an easy win and get the curse off of them. Except that we lost. It used to be that this team was, let's just say, not the biggest challenge. And that's kind of what is in everyone's mind going into games against them. But they've gotten quite a bit better over the last year (as have we), and I think we've lulled ourselves into a false sense of confidence a few times. That exhibition game was definitely one of them.

Given that history, it was really important to all of us to get this win. And what a game. We definitely spent more time in their zone than they did in ours, but their goalie is always very good down low and she stopped almost everything. I have to admit, back there in my crease, not being able to do anything to help the team, I started to get a little frustrated. It was obvious that all it would take to beat this goalie was a few high shots, and in the last two practices, at least three players consistently went high on me. I kept wondering where those shots were.

Well, the Mayor found one. With the score tied 1-1 near the end of the third period, she took a perfect shot that went over the goalie's far shoulder and into the top corner of the net. The cheering on the ice and the bench was never so loud. We knew we weren't getting into the finals, but this was a big victory for us. We didn't let up and we were rewarded. I turned to grab my water bottle for a drink and noticed the clock. 45 seconds left!!! I hadn't realized it was that close to being a frustrating, kiss-your-sister tie. Seymour Cock made it to this tournament as well, and he was unanimously awarded to the Mayor for that awesome goal.

But that's not all there was to the game. I mentioned earlier that we have a good relationship with this other team. There are some teams we play where the games become a little chippy from time to time, but this team is not one of them. So, in the first period, when I looked up and saw one of our quietest, most un-ruffled players literally tackle an opponent at the red line, I was stunned. Even more so when they proceeded to have an actual fight (as much as you can with a cage on). They were rolling around throwing punches, and it took the two refs several attempts to separate them. Even then they were still swinging and trying to get at each other. I still don't know quite what started it. GH says our player was coming out of the zone hard, and the other girl got in her way and she just bowled her over and things went from there, but there has to be more to it than that. Even playing on men's teams, where things can get pretty hot under the collar, I've never seen a fight like that. Both players were obviously ejected. The best part though? The other team's player was hands down their best. Kudos to "Irish" for taking a ringer out of the mix.

So, I'd say it was a great tournament. Complete with great saves, great timely goals, errant defensemen put in "time out", an honest to goodness fight, and great times with great people for a great cause. In the words of the Mayor, "I love us".