Open hockey was unreal this morning. Apparently the entire Russian Federation came out (and were all on the same team, thanks guys), and combined with the guys who are usually there, the game was one of the fastest I've seen. I just about had that shark tank feeling, but then I settled in and actually stopped some shots. There was another female there today, a girl who's on her way to her freshman year of college in a New England school (after spending high school in a New England prep school). She's freakin' good. And sneaky. Usually she stands out a little bit- not today, she blended right in. And her team (white) had some of the most seamless passing and breakouts and plays around the net that I've seen in open hockey. Unfortunately half the time I was playing against them and couldn't really appreciate the beauty of it all that much. But I didn't do too badly.
So where does the righteous indignation come in? Off the ice. You see, I go to work after playing on Friday mornings. So I kinda need to get cleaned up after the game. So do a lot of the guys, but they have no problem with that, their locker rooms have showers in them. The "womens' locker room" is a modified closet, with no facilities. Normally, this is not a big deal. If we're on Rink 1, I just go over to Rink 2 where the figure skaters are flitting around and shower over there. But during the summer there are rugrats everywhere, because it's hockey camp season. So both rinks' locker rooms are packed to the gills. What I end up having to do is hunt around for a locker room that isn't being used at that moment (i.e. all the players are out on the ice) and shower in there as quickly as possible before the occupants return for their stuff. So far, that's worked for me.
Today, I almost got walked in on. I found a locker room that had bags in it but no people. I locked the door, put the garbage can in front of it (as Phantom instructs me to do), and took the quickest shower of my life. No shampoo even. Of course, while I was in the process, someone was banging on the door trying to get in. I dried off (mostly) and jumped into my clean clothes and was just leaving as one of the rink staff was coming toward the locker room with the key in her hand.
Now, I'm not a rabble-rouser. But my feminist leanings got all rankled when I thought about what a colossal pain in the ass it is for me to take a shower, when it's not even an issue for the guys. I could go to management and make a big deal about how there legally have to be equal facilities. But in all honesty, this is only a problem two months out of the year, and I'm not even there every single week because work sometimes interferes. (Imagine! Work interfering with hockey!) After bitching about it on Facebook and IM, I felt a little better. But I still think we should at least have a freakin' shower.
What the womens' locker room lacks in sanitary facilities though, it makes up for in entertainment. As I think I've mentioned before, the ref's/coach's room is on the other side of the wall. And there's a big hole in the sheetrock way up at the ceiling. (Yeah, no one's got a camera in there AT ALL...) So I get to hear all kinds of amusing "guy conversations". Today there were several dudes in there, by the sound of it. As I'm packing my gear away I hear...
Voice: Oh come on! Are you fucking kidding me?!?!? FUCK! [pause] Who stole all the goddamn toilet paper????
There was uproarious laughter from the other dudes, accompanied by more swearing from the poor soul stranded in the bathroom stall.
Dude: Hey Kevin how's it going in there?
Voice: Fuck you, man.
More laughter.
Yeah.... sometimes I'm glad I'm a chick after all.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Light at the end of the tunnel!
The off-season blows, but it's even worse when you yourself aren't playing either. Both my teams have been off all summer, and with the exception of a few tournaments there's been no competition, no weekly gathering of the team, no ebb and flow of hockey season. Open hockey is fun, and so is renting ice, but there's nothing like an actual GAME.
Fortunately, the end is in sight. The Hawks should be starting up at the end of September, and the Quarry Cats schedule is in the process of being finalized, but we have our first game (Oct 17th), and practices start in late September. On my birthday, no less. So, just a little over a month and I'll be on the ice at a minimum of three times a week. Ahhh.... can't wait. Gear, enjoy being dry now. 'Cause you won't know what that feels like again until next May. Awesome.
Fortunately, the end is in sight. The Hawks should be starting up at the end of September, and the Quarry Cats schedule is in the process of being finalized, but we have our first game (Oct 17th), and practices start in late September. On my birthday, no less. So, just a little over a month and I'll be on the ice at a minimum of three times a week. Ahhh.... can't wait. Gear, enjoy being dry now. 'Cause you won't know what that feels like again until next May. Awesome.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Real Life
For those of us playing in beer leagues or at drop-ins, hockey is a hobby but also an escape. For the most part I don't know what the other guys do for a living, unless it's part of their nickname. We've got one guy who is a doctor and is known simply as "Doc". (Hockey players are so creative). I honestly don't even know what his name is- everyone just calls him Doc.
Yesterday while I was taking my turn hanging out on the bench, the ringleader of these open hockey sessions (who talks a blue streak and is pretty entertaining) was trying to pump up our team, since we kept losing. (We play to 5 goals and then re-set).
Ringleader: Alright boys, we gotta get back in this. Come on Doc, go at it like it's cataract surgery!
Random Guy: He's an eye doctor?
Ringleader: I have no clue. Hey doc! What kind of doctor are you?
Doc: Oncologist. Pediatric oncology. (Doc jumps onto the ice for his shift)
{silence}
Ringleader: Damn. There's nothing funny about that.
Me: No... there's not.
Ringleader: Yeah that just took the wind out of my comedic sails. Nothing I can say to that.
So hats off to you, Doc. If anyone needs an escape, for sure it's you.
Yesterday while I was taking my turn hanging out on the bench, the ringleader of these open hockey sessions (who talks a blue streak and is pretty entertaining) was trying to pump up our team, since we kept losing. (We play to 5 goals and then re-set).
Ringleader: Alright boys, we gotta get back in this. Come on Doc, go at it like it's cataract surgery!
Random Guy: He's an eye doctor?
Ringleader: I have no clue. Hey doc! What kind of doctor are you?
Doc: Oncologist. Pediatric oncology. (Doc jumps onto the ice for his shift)
{silence}
Ringleader: Damn. There's nothing funny about that.
Me: No... there's not.
Ringleader: Yeah that just took the wind out of my comedic sails. Nothing I can say to that.
So hats off to you, Doc. If anyone needs an escape, for sure it's you.
Friday, August 13, 2010
The big C team mystery
People... really, this is not a big deal. I feel like a dope even writing it now, it's such a non-issue. I honestly did just think that last post was too long and that I'd lost most of you by then anyway, so didn't want to add another paragraph.
The tournament was a mixed C/D level, so we had a few C players on our team. After the last game, when most people had left but a few of us hard-core idiots were still in the stuffy locker room drinking beer and eating cheez-doodles, one of the C team women was talking to me about the tournament in general, and about my play. She was extremely complimentary (which made me all shy and uncomfortable), and she said she wanted to roster me on the C team next season. Initially I said no, not understanding what she meant, because I know they have a goalie already, and the D team doesn't. And I'm not going off and leaving the D team with no one. But she just meant she wanted to put me on the roster in case something happened to their regular goalie, just as an insurance policy. (Apparently the rules are stricter in their league and you can't sub someone who's not on your roster.)
See? I told you: no big deal. Except if you know me you know one of the things I do best is worry about stuff and make it a bigger deal than it is. So part of me is worried about the prospect of possibly having to go do an away weekend (their away games are mostly out of state), and what if I play like crap.
So I'll just tell that part of my brain to shut the hell up, and take it as a compliment that they want to roster me as a backup.
The tournament was a mixed C/D level, so we had a few C players on our team. After the last game, when most people had left but a few of us hard-core idiots were still in the stuffy locker room drinking beer and eating cheez-doodles, one of the C team women was talking to me about the tournament in general, and about my play. She was extremely complimentary (which made me all shy and uncomfortable), and she said she wanted to roster me on the C team next season. Initially I said no, not understanding what she meant, because I know they have a goalie already, and the D team doesn't. And I'm not going off and leaving the D team with no one. But she just meant she wanted to put me on the roster in case something happened to their regular goalie, just as an insurance policy. (Apparently the rules are stricter in their league and you can't sub someone who's not on your roster.)
See? I told you: no big deal. Except if you know me you know one of the things I do best is worry about stuff and make it a bigger deal than it is. So part of me is worried about the prospect of possibly having to go do an away weekend (their away games are mostly out of state), and what if I play like crap.
So I'll just tell that part of my brain to shut the hell up, and take it as a compliment that they want to roster me as a backup.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Better late than never
I'm a complete convert to the world of tournaments. (Except for that whole being away from home thing... I'm like an 8 yr old at her first sleepover sometimes, I swear.) Summer Sizzler this past weekend was my second "away" tournament and it was just as much of a blast as the first one was. The schedule was a tad more compressed though; we had 4 games in 26 hours. But there's actually something kind of cool and exciting about that.
Here's how it shaped up:
Game 1, Saturday at 1pm. We completely bulldozed this team and won by a score of 5-1. I was starting to worry that maybe we were the "ringer team" of the tournament, but as it turned out, we definitely weren't. The team we beat was the weakest.
Game 2, Saturday at 7pm. This team was a tad better than us, and faster than us. But we completely battled and stepped up all our games and fought to a 3-3 tie. On a personal note, this was my best game. When you're late getting back into the locker room because you're talking to friends, and you come in and everyone cheers and claps for you... you know you did something right.
Game 3, Sunday at 9:45 am. Ohhhh man was this one hard to wake up for. After 2 hockey games and a night of socializing, getting out of bed was the last thing we all wanted to do when that alarm went off. We met nice and early for breakfast and then headed over to the rink.... to get our butts spanked 3-1. The score was actually 3-0 up until about 40 seconds left. When the bench started calling for me I thought they were nuts, but then I realized that goals for count in a tie breaker so figured what the heck. And damn if we didn't score 10 seconds after I hit the bench. Nice!
Unfortunately, if we'd won that game we'd have gone to the championship. The loss put us in the bronze medal game which was...
Game 4, Sunday at 1pm. Guess who we played again? The team we tied the night before. We battled just as hard but I guess they battled harder, because we lost 3-1.
We had a fantastic time though, and that's what counts. Team bonding included: speculating about the theology of and yes, mocking, the end-of-the-world nutjobs having a convention at our hotel. Their cars were plastered with stickers, magnets, and neon pizza-delivery-style signs broadcasting the date of the end of the world and admonishing us all to "fear God". Cult- I mean, church- members were all wearing t-shirts proclaiming the same date and asking if God loved us. Pretty frightening stuff when we saw little children all running around in the same t-shirts. Then again, at the rink I saw children sporting Carcillo jerseys, and that's pretty damn scary too.
We also all had a great time making derisive comments about Pink Sock Girl. This chick played on the team we tied in Game 2 and were beat by in Game 4. She was whiny enough to put Sidney Crosby out of a reputation, and a cocky swaggery biotch. She was one of those players who has to wear one different color sock in an attempt to be studiously indifferent and therefore oh so cool and way better than everyone else. (Ok, she was way better than everyone else. But the Pink Sock tactic is like wearing a mirrored visor. Everyone knows you're a douche immediately). I had a grand time chirping at her, since for the most part I owned her. She did get two goals; one in the first game that made me realize what I was up against, and the 2nd in the 2nd game which was a complete garbage goal that anyone could have had. In between? I stuffed her more times than I can count, and knew I was in her kitchen when she loudly complained every time I made a save. You may be good, sweetheart, but you're not guaranteed a goal.
I also had an interesting conversation with one of the C team members (this was a combined C/D level tournament). But since this post is already too long, and it's a little too early to speculate about (no I'm not going to be playing on the C team) I'll just leave it be for now. I'm sure it'll come up in the future.
The weekend was just what I needed, because both teams are off for the summer. But it also had the effect of really whetting my appetite for actual games, and now I'm just chomping at the bit to get back into a regular schedule. I love open hockey and scrimmages, but it's just not the same as when there's a big lit up scoreboard and a real competition. Once again I say: bring it.
Here's how it shaped up:
Game 1, Saturday at 1pm. We completely bulldozed this team and won by a score of 5-1. I was starting to worry that maybe we were the "ringer team" of the tournament, but as it turned out, we definitely weren't. The team we beat was the weakest.
Game 2, Saturday at 7pm. This team was a tad better than us, and faster than us. But we completely battled and stepped up all our games and fought to a 3-3 tie. On a personal note, this was my best game. When you're late getting back into the locker room because you're talking to friends, and you come in and everyone cheers and claps for you... you know you did something right.
Game 3, Sunday at 9:45 am. Ohhhh man was this one hard to wake up for. After 2 hockey games and a night of socializing, getting out of bed was the last thing we all wanted to do when that alarm went off. We met nice and early for breakfast and then headed over to the rink.... to get our butts spanked 3-1. The score was actually 3-0 up until about 40 seconds left. When the bench started calling for me I thought they were nuts, but then I realized that goals for count in a tie breaker so figured what the heck. And damn if we didn't score 10 seconds after I hit the bench. Nice!
Unfortunately, if we'd won that game we'd have gone to the championship. The loss put us in the bronze medal game which was...
Game 4, Sunday at 1pm. Guess who we played again? The team we tied the night before. We battled just as hard but I guess they battled harder, because we lost 3-1.
We had a fantastic time though, and that's what counts. Team bonding included: speculating about the theology of and yes, mocking, the end-of-the-world nutjobs having a convention at our hotel. Their cars were plastered with stickers, magnets, and neon pizza-delivery-style signs broadcasting the date of the end of the world and admonishing us all to "fear God". Cult- I mean, church- members were all wearing t-shirts proclaiming the same date and asking if God loved us. Pretty frightening stuff when we saw little children all running around in the same t-shirts. Then again, at the rink I saw children sporting Carcillo jerseys, and that's pretty damn scary too.
We also all had a great time making derisive comments about Pink Sock Girl. This chick played on the team we tied in Game 2 and were beat by in Game 4. She was whiny enough to put Sidney Crosby out of a reputation, and a cocky swaggery biotch. She was one of those players who has to wear one different color sock in an attempt to be studiously indifferent and therefore oh so cool and way better than everyone else. (Ok, she was way better than everyone else. But the Pink Sock tactic is like wearing a mirrored visor. Everyone knows you're a douche immediately). I had a grand time chirping at her, since for the most part I owned her. She did get two goals; one in the first game that made me realize what I was up against, and the 2nd in the 2nd game which was a complete garbage goal that anyone could have had. In between? I stuffed her more times than I can count, and knew I was in her kitchen when she loudly complained every time I made a save. You may be good, sweetheart, but you're not guaranteed a goal.
I also had an interesting conversation with one of the C team members (this was a combined C/D level tournament). But since this post is already too long, and it's a little too early to speculate about (no I'm not going to be playing on the C team) I'll just leave it be for now. I'm sure it'll come up in the future.
The weekend was just what I needed, because both teams are off for the summer. But it also had the effect of really whetting my appetite for actual games, and now I'm just chomping at the bit to get back into a regular schedule. I love open hockey and scrimmages, but it's just not the same as when there's a big lit up scoreboard and a real competition. Once again I say: bring it.
Things You Don't Normally Hear On The Ice
Yes yes, I'm remiss in blogging about the tournament this weekend. I will do it, I promise. I just had to tell a story from last night's scrimmage because I'm still laughing about it.
This summer the women's team coach has been renting ice and having a pretty open scrimmage- i.e. not just women's team members. It's pretty much the coach's teenage sons and their friends, some women's team members and whoever they feel like inviting. So the skill level is a real mix, because of course you have the kids flying around all over the place, slamming each other into the boards, etc. (which actually is quite fun to watch. I love watching really good players just horsing around. They make it look so effortless... which, I guess it is. Anyway...)
One of the women brought her 17 year old son, and at one point they were both on D in front of me. Now, she's pretty small, but she's feisty and absolutely hates to get pushed around, so she's not shy about pushing back. So here we are, the puck's in our zone, and she's tussling with a dude at the top of my crease. Her son comes out of nowhere to gang up on the guy, yelling "GET OFF MY MOM, BITCH!!!"
She and I busted out laughing. Even as the kid and the other dude skated away, she was still by my crease, both of us in fits of laughter. Between that and an older brother constantly beating on his younger brother, it was a pretty amusing night. Plus, I got to stop lots of pucks. Not a bad ending to a ridiculously stressful day at work.
This summer the women's team coach has been renting ice and having a pretty open scrimmage- i.e. not just women's team members. It's pretty much the coach's teenage sons and their friends, some women's team members and whoever they feel like inviting. So the skill level is a real mix, because of course you have the kids flying around all over the place, slamming each other into the boards, etc. (which actually is quite fun to watch. I love watching really good players just horsing around. They make it look so effortless... which, I guess it is. Anyway...)
One of the women brought her 17 year old son, and at one point they were both on D in front of me. Now, she's pretty small, but she's feisty and absolutely hates to get pushed around, so she's not shy about pushing back. So here we are, the puck's in our zone, and she's tussling with a dude at the top of my crease. Her son comes out of nowhere to gang up on the guy, yelling "GET OFF MY MOM, BITCH!!!"
She and I busted out laughing. Even as the kid and the other dude skated away, she was still by my crease, both of us in fits of laughter. Between that and an older brother constantly beating on his younger brother, it was a pretty amusing night. Plus, I got to stop lots of pucks. Not a bad ending to a ridiculously stressful day at work.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Kind of adorable, yet kind of creepy
My apologies for lack of posts. No hockey to speak of, plus vacation, plus coming back and getting sick right off the bat means I'm totally out of the loop. I did manage to get to the gym on Monday morning though, before the cold germs took over. (I thought maybe I'd sweat them out. Didn't really work so well, they're determined little bastards.) There are a handful of little old geezers who are at the gym every morning when I'm there. They're kind of cute. Walking around with their canes, using the weight machines, talking the ears off of anyone who will listen. I generally just smile at them as I walk by, since I am the type of gym patron known as "Ipod Chick". I'm there to work out, not to socialize.
Monday, though, I had the incredibly strange, yet somewhat hilarious experience of two of the geezers trying to pick me up. At the same time. I think they have an act they do at the old age home that has all the old biddies roaring. Not sure why they thought it would work on me though. I was going through my lower body circuit and got to the last machine (yeah yeah, I know, weight machines are evil. I was taking it easy just coming back from vacation) when the first Geezer caught my attention.
Geezer 1: Can I ask you something?
(Oh boy. Here it comes, he's going to ask about my weird shoes or about my tattoo).
Me (turning off my ipod): Sure...
Geezer 1: Well, me and my buddy [indicates Geezer 2] were wondering something. And we thought who better to ask than a woman, right? Since women have all the answers.
Geezer 2: Or at least ya act like ya do! har har
Me (laughing politely): Oh really? Oh, ok sure, go ahead.
Geezer 1: Well when you get to our age you need to take all kinds of pills for all kinds of stuff...
(oh god please do not let this be going where i think its going)
...and well my friend over here has a really bad stomach infection...
(ew... wtf?)
Geezer 2: Yeah! I have this horrible infection in my stomach, and the doctor gave me antibiotics for it. So I took them, but I had this really bad headache at the base of my skull, and I felt all feverish. (looks at me expectantly...)
Me: Um... so you want to know why you had a headache?
Geezer 2: Yeah!
Me: Well... did you call the doctor who gave you the pills?
Geezer 2: No... this was over the weekend. I'm going to call him later this morning.
Me: Well I don't really know. I know sometimes antibiotics can cause stomach upset. But I've never heard of a headache.
Geezer 1: See! She did know something!
And now it gets really weird... I'm not sure where this came from but Geezer 1 went on a tangent about cooking.
Geezer 1: Are you married?
Me: Yes
Geezer 1: Well I bet when you make dinner, you don't really give your husband a choice do you? Its either "yes" or "no", right?
Me: Well, he pretty much eats anything, he's pretty easy going.
Geezer 1: Oh!!! Well you trained him good!
Me: Not really....
Geezer 2: Hey! Is your husband's nickname 'Lucky'?
Me: No....
Geezer 2: Well it should be, if he's married to you!
Me (nervous laughter)
Geezer 2: Ok now you can pay me for being so nice to you!
Me: What? I don't have any money (more nervous laughter)
Geezer 2: Ah, that's ok your smile is good enough.
Ok.... what the hell just happened there?!?! I seriously wasn't sure whether to be flattered or freaked out. These dudes are there ALL the time too. I guess I'm going to have to be nice and chit-chat with them. Or, just completley avoid them. What the hell, I could make their week if I winked at them, right? ;)
Monday, though, I had the incredibly strange, yet somewhat hilarious experience of two of the geezers trying to pick me up. At the same time. I think they have an act they do at the old age home that has all the old biddies roaring. Not sure why they thought it would work on me though. I was going through my lower body circuit and got to the last machine (yeah yeah, I know, weight machines are evil. I was taking it easy just coming back from vacation) when the first Geezer caught my attention.
Geezer 1: Can I ask you something?
(Oh boy. Here it comes, he's going to ask about my weird shoes or about my tattoo).
Me (turning off my ipod): Sure...
Geezer 1: Well, me and my buddy [indicates Geezer 2] were wondering something. And we thought who better to ask than a woman, right? Since women have all the answers.
Geezer 2: Or at least ya act like ya do! har har
Me (laughing politely): Oh really? Oh, ok sure, go ahead.
Geezer 1: Well when you get to our age you need to take all kinds of pills for all kinds of stuff...
(oh god please do not let this be going where i think its going)
...and well my friend over here has a really bad stomach infection...
(ew... wtf?)
Geezer 2: Yeah! I have this horrible infection in my stomach, and the doctor gave me antibiotics for it. So I took them, but I had this really bad headache at the base of my skull, and I felt all feverish. (looks at me expectantly...)
Me: Um... so you want to know why you had a headache?
Geezer 2: Yeah!
Me: Well... did you call the doctor who gave you the pills?
Geezer 2: No... this was over the weekend. I'm going to call him later this morning.
Me: Well I don't really know. I know sometimes antibiotics can cause stomach upset. But I've never heard of a headache.
Geezer 1: See! She did know something!
And now it gets really weird... I'm not sure where this came from but Geezer 1 went on a tangent about cooking.
Geezer 1: Are you married?
Me: Yes
Geezer 1: Well I bet when you make dinner, you don't really give your husband a choice do you? Its either "yes" or "no", right?
Me: Well, he pretty much eats anything, he's pretty easy going.
Geezer 1: Oh!!! Well you trained him good!
Me: Not really....
Geezer 2: Hey! Is your husband's nickname 'Lucky'?
Me: No....
Geezer 2: Well it should be, if he's married to you!
Me (nervous laughter)
Geezer 2: Ok now you can pay me for being so nice to you!
Me: What? I don't have any money (more nervous laughter)
Geezer 2: Ah, that's ok your smile is good enough.
Ok.... what the hell just happened there?!?! I seriously wasn't sure whether to be flattered or freaked out. These dudes are there ALL the time too. I guess I'm going to have to be nice and chit-chat with them. Or, just completley avoid them. What the hell, I could make their week if I winked at them, right? ;)
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