I am in my bliss right now, with both teams' schedules picking up. For some reason the QCats schedule is always much heavier on the back end (that's what she said) than in the first few months. And now that the Cougar(hawk)s got our 6 bye weeks out of the way, we're playing weekly games. From Friday through Monday I had three games, two wins and a loss.
Friday night the QCats had a home game against a team we haven't played in a while. We weren't sure what to expect, as their organization has several levels and you never know which players are going to show up on any given night. As it turned out, we got the low end of the spectrum. Coach (aka "GoalieHusband") was delighted and said it was an awesome game to coach, and all the skaters were pretty jazzed about it too, but I was kind of bored. We won 3-2, and it shouldn't even have been that high. The first goal was courtesy of my d-man's stick blade. The second was probably due to a slightly slower than usual reaction on my part, with my head somewhat out of the game. I find it so hard to stay focused when you're only seeing a few shots a period.
Fortunately our next game was more exciting. It was a Sunday night away game, against a team we match up against fairly well. We were down 4 players; one injured, three with whatever germs are running rampant right now. We managed to get two extra bodies on the ice though, since gionta182 was free (even though she'd originally not planned to play), and our very own Assistant Coach hkygrl12 hit the ice with us. I don't really know what was going on that night, but our D was nowhere near as tight as is usually is. It might have been a combination of unfamiliar partners, and the other team's tendency to creep down really low. I've never yelled about my back door so much in one night. Also, the refs were fairly clueless. Icing was apparently optional, as was indicating whether it had occurred or not, and one was either completely oblivious, or purposely baiting me. With the score 2-0 and only a few minutes to go in the 3rd period, play was deep in our zone when the net came off slightly. It was the right post that got knocked off, and the near ref was right there to my right watching the play. I started saying "net's off", and when he didn't pick up on it, hkygrl12 joined in. It went something like this. "Net's off".... track track track skate.... "net's off!!" ummmm the other team has the puck, what's the deal here .... "HEY! Net's OFF!!!"..... "wtf THE. NET. IS. OFF!"
Yes, the other team had the puck the whole time I was yelling my head off. Apparently the bench was going bananas too, with the far ref right near them. He was craning his neck to see but I guess I was blocking his view. I told hkygrl12 later that if I didn't have a shutout on the line, I would absolutely have let my "inner Tuukka" out and shoved it WAY off myself, and taken the penalty. The funniest part though? After that play, and me adjusting the post myself, the play came back into the zone and suddenly there was a whistle. Everyone - including me- was looking around, looking for the ref for an explanation. "Net's off" he said, calmly putting it back into place.
And that is why I think he was f-ing with me.
Regardless, we won, and I got a shutout, one which I felt was pretty well-deserved. I worked hard for it and made some decent stops, and I guess I got a little too cocky about it, because the hockey gods handed me a slice of humble pie when I played again on Monday night.
This was a Cougar(hawk)s game, one I was particularly amped for, due to our opponent's reputation. Those who have been in the league for a while were indicating that this might be the "d-bag" team of this league. They pretty much lived up to expectations. They were also the "Italian Soccer Player" team, flamboyant dives being a specialty of theirs. Unfortunately we were pretty scrambly in the first period and although we did score first, they got 4 in that frame. I feel that I definitely should have had 2 of them; one being a bad bounce off my arm, the other being a complete paddle-down fail. The other 2 were pretty impossible though. And they only got 1 more goal for the rest of the game, early in the 2nd period. After that we shut them down. The end result was a score of 5-2, and a very humbled goalie. I was told that it's not unheard of for this team to score 8 or more goals though, so I wasn't pouting too much.
We've got another similar weekend lined up, with games on Friday and Saturday, and then a game on Monday night, which is a good thing because it gives me a nice outlet for all my pent up my-company-went-bankrupt-angst.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Beating the Eisbrechers
Knowing what a ice-time-whore I am, you know getting amped up for a game is never an issue. But when bragging rights are on the line, that just makes it even more fun. Our opponents on Saturday night were the Icebreakers (or as GoalieHusband calls them, the "Eisbrechers"*). One of their players is one who we've absorbed onto our tournament team, so we have a very friendly rivalry with them. They're also quite good, and I don't think we've beaten them in the past two years. All week I was looking forward to this game, and was determined to win.
There are some games I go into just feeling so confident and so "in the zone". I wish I could bottle that feeling and put it on the back of my net with my watter bottle. Saturday night was one of those games. The game was pretty even, but I came up with some big saves at key times to keep it that way. We scored first, getting an odd one that I couldn't see clearly but it was one I know the Icebreakers goalie rarely gives up and most certainly wanted back. I hung in there on my end, steadily turning away pucks. I think my best save was probably one that wouldn't even look that impressive to anyone on the bench. There was a lot of traffic in front, and I saw the release of the shot, and saw the puck coming at me end over end, but then it disappeared in the forest of players. Somehow I knew exactly where it would end up, dropped into a butterfly, and put it neatly into the corner with my stick. I love when I have that "spidey-sense" about a shot.
In the third period they tied it up, on a shot that I was set for, but bounced off lct29's calf. I was already going in one direction but reached out with my glove and tried to lean the opposite when when I saw it change direction. It was like a "NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!" slow motion kind of moment, but I wasn't even close. Flipper felt awful about it, but as I told her, it turned out ok so no big deal. Even though I teased her for breaking my shutout.
At the final buzzer we were tied 1-1 and the refs conceded us a shootout. A five person shootout, no less! We haven't had much luck with those this season, but feeling as good as I felt, I knew I'd have my end of it covered, no problem. And I did. I flat out stuffed all four shooters. And on the other end, we scored twice (hence why I only saw 4 shooters, not 5). It was one of the most fun games I've played. Unfortunately for our bragging rights, the tournament-player wasn't there. And she's one of their best players. So I feel kind of personally that I can't really wear the feather of that win in my cap until we beat them with her and a few other players who didn't make it that night. Still, it was a blast. I love, love, love shootouts. I'll take one of those over overtime any day.
*At GoalieHousehold, there exists quite a love of German industrial music. The band "Eisbrecher" is one of our favorites in that genre, and for some reason GoalieHusband can't seem to get the word "icebreaker" out without it turning into "Eisbrecher". I'm not sure if anyone on the team has even noticed it, or maybe they have and just pass it off as "one of those weird things Coach does". Regardless, here's the band's self-titled song off their self-titled album. Enjoy (and if you're curious about the lyrics there's a rough translation in the comments).
There are some games I go into just feeling so confident and so "in the zone". I wish I could bottle that feeling and put it on the back of my net with my watter bottle. Saturday night was one of those games. The game was pretty even, but I came up with some big saves at key times to keep it that way. We scored first, getting an odd one that I couldn't see clearly but it was one I know the Icebreakers goalie rarely gives up and most certainly wanted back. I hung in there on my end, steadily turning away pucks. I think my best save was probably one that wouldn't even look that impressive to anyone on the bench. There was a lot of traffic in front, and I saw the release of the shot, and saw the puck coming at me end over end, but then it disappeared in the forest of players. Somehow I knew exactly where it would end up, dropped into a butterfly, and put it neatly into the corner with my stick. I love when I have that "spidey-sense" about a shot.
In the third period they tied it up, on a shot that I was set for, but bounced off lct29's calf. I was already going in one direction but reached out with my glove and tried to lean the opposite when when I saw it change direction. It was like a "NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!" slow motion kind of moment, but I wasn't even close. Flipper felt awful about it, but as I told her, it turned out ok so no big deal. Even though I teased her for breaking my shutout.
At the final buzzer we were tied 1-1 and the refs conceded us a shootout. A five person shootout, no less! We haven't had much luck with those this season, but feeling as good as I felt, I knew I'd have my end of it covered, no problem. And I did. I flat out stuffed all four shooters. And on the other end, we scored twice (hence why I only saw 4 shooters, not 5). It was one of the most fun games I've played. Unfortunately for our bragging rights, the tournament-player wasn't there. And she's one of their best players. So I feel kind of personally that I can't really wear the feather of that win in my cap until we beat them with her and a few other players who didn't make it that night. Still, it was a blast. I love, love, love shootouts. I'll take one of those over overtime any day.
*At GoalieHousehold, there exists quite a love of German industrial music. The band "Eisbrecher" is one of our favorites in that genre, and for some reason GoalieHusband can't seem to get the word "icebreaker" out without it turning into "Eisbrecher". I'm not sure if anyone on the team has even noticed it, or maybe they have and just pass it off as "one of those weird things Coach does". Regardless, here's the band's self-titled song off their self-titled album. Enjoy (and if you're curious about the lyrics there's a rough translation in the comments).
Friday, February 24, 2012
How To Speak Goalie (or at least how to understand yours)
By popular demand (ok, two requests), here are the results of the homework assignment I mentioned a few weeks back. As noted, I always assumed that everyone knew what I meant when I yell my clipped directives during a game, but it was brought to my attention this weekend that perhaps that's not the case. I'm pretty sure my D knows all my phrases and sayings and what I mean, but a back-checking forward might not necessarily know exactly what I'm trying to communicate. Apparently. This concept is foreign to me. I thought everyone spoke Goalie. Since that might not be the case, GoalieHusband asked me to come up with a list of things I say on the ice and intrepretations for them, and mention them at a team meeting we had before practice one night.
So here goes. Remember, I'm sure my D knows all this. This is mostly for forwards, so we'll keep it simple. *wink*
The self-explanatory:
"Man on!" (Alternately "On you!", "One on!"): Pardon me. There is an opposing player approaching you who will likely try to remove the puck from your possession.
"On you! On you! Hard, hard, HARD!!": There is an opposing player approaching you at great speed, but I am not about to make the mistake of yelling "Hard on!" as I did once before. In a men's game.
"Time!": There is no one else near you, you may take your time deciding what you want to do with the puck. Stop and have a beer if you like.
"Little time!": Someone is approaching you, however you have a small amout of time before you get creamed.
"SCREEN!!!": You have a lovely ass but I don't need it in my face right now. MOVE.
The perhaps slightly less obvious:
"You got help!": I see that you and an opposing player are fighting for the puck along the boards, and wanted to inform you that one of your teammates is approaching and can lend you some assistance.
"Up high!": Please note that there is a player up towards the blue line who is wide open and may drift down towards the crease while I'm over here on the other side of the net.
"Back door!": YO!!! While I'm tracking the puck over on this post, there's a player camped out on the other post just waiting for a pass. (Contrary to post-game supposition on Sunday, my yelling "back door" does not mean I am 'presenting'. Just sayin'.)
"Two-One!, Three-Two!", etc.: The proportion of players crossing the blueline in comparsion to defenders skating back. Don't ever let me yell "THREE ONE!" more than once in a game. I do not like having to yell "THREE ONE!"
"HEADS UP!!!!": Perhaps this was not the most opportune time to make a line change, as the other team has the freakin puck and I am the only one out here wearing this jersey.
My on-ice communication pretty much consists of the above phrases, peppered here and there with some expletives when necessary. There's a whole other system of communication between me and my posts but that's different. No one needs to know about that except me and my posts, and I think we're doing just fine.
So here goes. Remember, I'm sure my D knows all this. This is mostly for forwards, so we'll keep it simple. *wink*
The self-explanatory:
"Man on!" (Alternately "On you!", "One on!"): Pardon me. There is an opposing player approaching you who will likely try to remove the puck from your possession.
"On you! On you! Hard, hard, HARD!!": There is an opposing player approaching you at great speed, but I am not about to make the mistake of yelling "Hard on!" as I did once before. In a men's game.
"Time!": There is no one else near you, you may take your time deciding what you want to do with the puck. Stop and have a beer if you like.
"Little time!": Someone is approaching you, however you have a small amout of time before you get creamed.
"SCREEN!!!": You have a lovely ass but I don't need it in my face right now. MOVE.
The perhaps slightly less obvious:
"You got help!": I see that you and an opposing player are fighting for the puck along the boards, and wanted to inform you that one of your teammates is approaching and can lend you some assistance.
"Up high!": Please note that there is a player up towards the blue line who is wide open and may drift down towards the crease while I'm over here on the other side of the net.
"Back door!": YO!!! While I'm tracking the puck over on this post, there's a player camped out on the other post just waiting for a pass. (Contrary to post-game supposition on Sunday, my yelling "back door" does not mean I am 'presenting'. Just sayin'.)
"Two-One!, Three-Two!", etc.: The proportion of players crossing the blueline in comparsion to defenders skating back. Don't ever let me yell "THREE ONE!" more than once in a game. I do not like having to yell "THREE ONE!"
"HEADS UP!!!!": Perhaps this was not the most opportune time to make a line change, as the other team has the freakin puck and I am the only one out here wearing this jersey.
My on-ice communication pretty much consists of the above phrases, peppered here and there with some expletives when necessary. There's a whole other system of communication between me and my posts but that's different. No one needs to know about that except me and my posts, and I think we're doing just fine.
Monday, February 20, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Seriously, wtf WAS that?
I've been on this team for two years now, and the only times I've/we've ever gotten completely blown out is when we've gone to this one particular rink. The first time there were local TV crews there filming for some kind of special on women's hockey, so of course they brought all their ringers (gotta look good for the cameras, right?) and killed us 8-2. They didn't blow us out the next time we played there, but the relentlessly chippy and obnoxious play was the same. And then there was last night.
I don't even know how to describe last night other than a complete cluster fuck. At times I just stood there shaking my head and laughing in complete amazement. It seems they brought their ringers again, as well as their Class A Whiners. The first period, we played like we had our heads up our asses. We managed to get out only down 2-0, but there were two 3-on-0s (two!!!) not to mention several other odd man rushes. (I made the save on the first 3-on-0. Not so lucky the 2nd time around). Fortunately after that we played a little better. Unfortunately, a few bad deflections and one silver platter give-away by me resulted in the second period ending with us down 6-0. That was also when the real bullshit started heating up. At one point, one of their larger players completely flattened our smallest one at center ice. The nasty play just got worse from there.
I should mention here that the ref (yes we only had one, why bother getting two, it's just a women's game) was completely useless. We might as well have played without one for all he was doing. Aside from not calling penalties, except for the blatant center ice hit, he also seemed to forget that he was supposed to signal whether there was to be an icing or not. I lost count of the number of times one of my D would be trucking back to get a puck, and I'd be looking up at the ref, who was doing absolutely nothing, and have nothing to tell my D. Sometimes he'd blow the whistle when the puck crossed the line, sometimes he wouldn't. It was a gamble. He clearly didn't give half a crap about the game at all and was just there to collect his fee.
The third period is when it really started to get ugly. I missed what started the first fight, because I was once again trying to determine if the puck coming into my zone was an icing or not, when I heard a big commotion and looked up towards the benches to see "Pants" and another player rolling around on the ice. They were soon joined by several other players, from both sides, and separated. Even though I didn't see how it started, it was amazing to me that the other bench was screaming and yelling and carrying on, long after the players were separated and had gone to their respective benches. The ref was standing in front of their bench trying to talk to them and they were just all going completely ballistic. I later asked Pants what had happened and here's what she said: "What happened with mine was I got fed up with the way they were playing. So I just started playing the same game they were playing. It appears that they can dish it out but can't take it. After I leveled a couple of them by just playing their game the one decided to skate from mid ice and check me. So I threw a punch and there you go!"
The ref did not throw Pants out. He didn't even put anyone in the box. He just told us to continue playing 5 on 5, and that he would "start calling penalties now". Oh! Really! That would be great, thanks for noticing the game has gotten totally out of hand! By then, word must have gotten around the rink that the chicks were fighting, because there was quite the crowd gathered around my end of the glass. Several little kids were banging on the glass behind me and yelling; I was expecting them to break out in a sing-song chant of my last name at any moment, given that the score was 6-0 at that point.
The game continued, with tempers on both sides still flaring. A few minutes later, one of their players had a semi-breakaway. I made the initial stop and was sprawled and covered the puck when the player gave me a pretty good whack. Gionta182 was just a few strides behind her, saw that, and took her out. Two or three players from the other team were suddenly there and piling on, and I heard Gionta182 yelling "don't hit my fuckin' goalie!". I'm not gonna lie, that made me feel pretty damn good. Eventually they were separated, and Gionta182 skated over to the bench to get her stuff, since the ref had suddenly decided to pay attention and threw her out of the game. The girl she had taken down skated by on the way to her bench and oh so "accidentally" brushed Gionta182 on her way past. Gionta182 turned and shoved her, and she fell to the ice. She came up swinging. It was at that point that I think Gionta182 decided not to even bother- this other girl was half her size. It was actually kind of amusing, like watching a small dog yip at a German Shepherd's heels.
A few players were so frustrated at that point that they suggested leaving. Coach put it to us for a vote and the majority decided hell no, we're not quitters, we're going to finish the game, get the hell out of there, and never come back. The general consensus in the locker room later was that this repeated bullshit was not worth driving as far as we did (an hour and a half for me) and paying $28 in tolls. Our Captain was working that night and wasn't at the game, but texts were flying afterwards and she concurred; this team is definitely being crossed off our list. I believe we have a home game scheduled against them, but it won't be hard to get an extra game from one of the other teams we play, in their stead. Enough is enough.
I don't even know how to describe last night other than a complete cluster fuck. At times I just stood there shaking my head and laughing in complete amazement. It seems they brought their ringers again, as well as their Class A Whiners. The first period, we played like we had our heads up our asses. We managed to get out only down 2-0, but there were two 3-on-0s (two!!!) not to mention several other odd man rushes. (I made the save on the first 3-on-0. Not so lucky the 2nd time around). Fortunately after that we played a little better. Unfortunately, a few bad deflections and one silver platter give-away by me resulted in the second period ending with us down 6-0. That was also when the real bullshit started heating up. At one point, one of their larger players completely flattened our smallest one at center ice. The nasty play just got worse from there.
I should mention here that the ref (yes we only had one, why bother getting two, it's just a women's game) was completely useless. We might as well have played without one for all he was doing. Aside from not calling penalties, except for the blatant center ice hit, he also seemed to forget that he was supposed to signal whether there was to be an icing or not. I lost count of the number of times one of my D would be trucking back to get a puck, and I'd be looking up at the ref, who was doing absolutely nothing, and have nothing to tell my D. Sometimes he'd blow the whistle when the puck crossed the line, sometimes he wouldn't. It was a gamble. He clearly didn't give half a crap about the game at all and was just there to collect his fee.
The third period is when it really started to get ugly. I missed what started the first fight, because I was once again trying to determine if the puck coming into my zone was an icing or not, when I heard a big commotion and looked up towards the benches to see "Pants" and another player rolling around on the ice. They were soon joined by several other players, from both sides, and separated. Even though I didn't see how it started, it was amazing to me that the other bench was screaming and yelling and carrying on, long after the players were separated and had gone to their respective benches. The ref was standing in front of their bench trying to talk to them and they were just all going completely ballistic. I later asked Pants what had happened and here's what she said: "What happened with mine was I got fed up with the way they were playing. So I just started playing the same game they were playing. It appears that they can dish it out but can't take it. After I leveled a couple of them by just playing their game the one decided to skate from mid ice and check me. So I threw a punch and there you go!"
The ref did not throw Pants out. He didn't even put anyone in the box. He just told us to continue playing 5 on 5, and that he would "start calling penalties now". Oh! Really! That would be great, thanks for noticing the game has gotten totally out of hand! By then, word must have gotten around the rink that the chicks were fighting, because there was quite the crowd gathered around my end of the glass. Several little kids were banging on the glass behind me and yelling; I was expecting them to break out in a sing-song chant of my last name at any moment, given that the score was 6-0 at that point.
The game continued, with tempers on both sides still flaring. A few minutes later, one of their players had a semi-breakaway. I made the initial stop and was sprawled and covered the puck when the player gave me a pretty good whack. Gionta182 was just a few strides behind her, saw that, and took her out. Two or three players from the other team were suddenly there and piling on, and I heard Gionta182 yelling "don't hit my fuckin' goalie!". I'm not gonna lie, that made me feel pretty damn good. Eventually they were separated, and Gionta182 skated over to the bench to get her stuff, since the ref had suddenly decided to pay attention and threw her out of the game. The girl she had taken down skated by on the way to her bench and oh so "accidentally" brushed Gionta182 on her way past. Gionta182 turned and shoved her, and she fell to the ice. She came up swinging. It was at that point that I think Gionta182 decided not to even bother- this other girl was half her size. It was actually kind of amusing, like watching a small dog yip at a German Shepherd's heels.
A few players were so frustrated at that point that they suggested leaving. Coach put it to us for a vote and the majority decided hell no, we're not quitters, we're going to finish the game, get the hell out of there, and never come back. The general consensus in the locker room later was that this repeated bullshit was not worth driving as far as we did (an hour and a half for me) and paying $28 in tolls. Our Captain was working that night and wasn't at the game, but texts were flying afterwards and she concurred; this team is definitely being crossed off our list. I believe we have a home game scheduled against them, but it won't be hard to get an extra game from one of the other teams we play, in their stead. Enough is enough.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Goalie lexicon, black socks, and furry gloves
Hey guys, guess what it's stream of consciousness night. Meaning, I have no unifying thread but just needed to share these few things with you all. Because I know you're clamoring to find out what's rattling around in my brain.
First up - Goalie Lexicon
Some might think being married to the coach gets you extra perks. Not really. What it really gets you is homework. After Sunday's scrimmage it became evident that not everyone (and by "everyone", I mean "forwards") understands what the heck I'm yelling out there all game long. I know, it came as a shock to me too. Not everyone speaks Goalie. So, GoalieHusband asked me to come up with a list of things I shout on the ice and what they mean, to clear up any possible uncertainty.
You'd think things like "TIME! TIME!" would be pretty obvious, but it was really eye-opening to me to see all the light bulbs go on over people's heads as I ran through the things I yell most frequently on the ice. Good call on GoalieHusband's part, because I had no idea that what made perfect sense to me in my head didn't necessarily translate in a forward's brain.
Next - The Black Sock Effect
For the most part, I'm a big ol' honey badger when it comes to what socks I wear on the ice. Or, I used to be. I'm the goalie, who cares what color I wear, right? But somewhere around the end of last QCats season I got a bug up my ass about having white socks to wear when we wore our home white jerseys. (I have lots of dark colors, but no white). It festered for a while, because I really felt stupid going out to buy socks to match my jersey. I mean, that's like a totally girl thing to do. But eventually it got the best of me and I ordered white socks. I used as my justification the fact that the Cougar(hawk)s also wear white, so I figure between those games and QCat home games I'll get lots of use out of them. I happened to tweet about buying them, and gionta182 responded that as an opposing forward, she can't wait to play me when I'm wearing white socks (she's on another team in the same league as the Cougar(hawk)s). I had no idea what she meant, until she explained; if the goalie's wearing white socks, and the puck is somewhere on her and she doesn't know it, it's a lot easier to find and jab at it than if she's wearing black socks. I sort of wrote this idea off until I noticed something- Rask wears black socks. Even when the Bruins are wearing yellow ones. So maybe there's something to this after all. Regardless, I'd already informed gionta182 that when we play her team, I'm definitely wearing the black socks, just for her.
Finally - There's No Explaining Taste (or lack of it)
A few days ago the team got an email from our former coach, with whom we are still in touch, and invite to team parties. The subject was "Attention! Front Office Mandate!" and all it contained was a link, and the words "Do it.". A link to these:
There are a lot of times I'm really thankful that I'm a goalie and not a skater, and this is definitely one of them. I'm not sure how many people are going to take him up on his directive, but I know Flipper said she would order them specifically for use in tournaments. Now that is going to be a sight.
First up - Goalie Lexicon
Some might think being married to the coach gets you extra perks. Not really. What it really gets you is homework. After Sunday's scrimmage it became evident that not everyone (and by "everyone", I mean "forwards") understands what the heck I'm yelling out there all game long. I know, it came as a shock to me too. Not everyone speaks Goalie. So, GoalieHusband asked me to come up with a list of things I shout on the ice and what they mean, to clear up any possible uncertainty.
You'd think things like "TIME! TIME!" would be pretty obvious, but it was really eye-opening to me to see all the light bulbs go on over people's heads as I ran through the things I yell most frequently on the ice. Good call on GoalieHusband's part, because I had no idea that what made perfect sense to me in my head didn't necessarily translate in a forward's brain.
Next - The Black Sock Effect
For the most part, I'm a big ol' honey badger when it comes to what socks I wear on the ice. Or, I used to be. I'm the goalie, who cares what color I wear, right? But somewhere around the end of last QCats season I got a bug up my ass about having white socks to wear when we wore our home white jerseys. (I have lots of dark colors, but no white). It festered for a while, because I really felt stupid going out to buy socks to match my jersey. I mean, that's like a totally girl thing to do. But eventually it got the best of me and I ordered white socks. I used as my justification the fact that the Cougar(hawk)s also wear white, so I figure between those games and QCat home games I'll get lots of use out of them. I happened to tweet about buying them, and gionta182 responded that as an opposing forward, she can't wait to play me when I'm wearing white socks (she's on another team in the same league as the Cougar(hawk)s). I had no idea what she meant, until she explained; if the goalie's wearing white socks, and the puck is somewhere on her and she doesn't know it, it's a lot easier to find and jab at it than if she's wearing black socks. I sort of wrote this idea off until I noticed something- Rask wears black socks. Even when the Bruins are wearing yellow ones. So maybe there's something to this after all. Regardless, I'd already informed gionta182 that when we play her team, I'm definitely wearing the black socks, just for her.
Finally - There's No Explaining Taste (or lack of it)
A few days ago the team got an email from our former coach, with whom we are still in touch, and invite to team parties. The subject was "Attention! Front Office Mandate!" and all it contained was a link, and the words "Do it.". A link to these:
There are a lot of times I'm really thankful that I'm a goalie and not a skater, and this is definitely one of them. I'm not sure how many people are going to take him up on his directive, but I know Flipper said she would order them specifically for use in tournaments. Now that is going to be a sight.
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