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!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Silverhawks debut (again), and watching Rinne
Back when the core of us who shifted from outdoor roller hockey to indoor ice, we joined the Instructional League and were given the name Silverhawks. The league at that time gave out new names to each team each season, and most seasons we had some form of "Hawks" in our name. Now that the leagues have gotten so skewed and the D league is ridiculously faster than it used to be when we moved up, we're back in the Instructional League (which is also quite a bit faster than it used to be), and when we needed a name, Silverhawks seemed the natural choice. We didn't want to stick with "Hawks", because we'd end up with "Hawks AIL" on the schedule since there is still a Hawks in the D league. Plus it has the added advantage of conveying our old fart status.
I was really nervous going into our game on Monday night. I haven't been in the role of team organizer before, and this season that task fell to me. We have three groups of people forming this team; former Hawks, a few Quarry Cats, and a few guys no one knows that the rink put on our team to give us enough players. Being the mother hen that I am, I was nervous about everyone getting along, and hoping that the "new guys" would be cool and not d-bags. We lucked out in that department; they seem like good guys. We had to scrounge around for some extra yellow jerseys, since not everyone had one, but we made it work.
Unfortunately our first game was kind of what I expected it would be, with everyone getting used to each other. We lost 7-1, and I think I've played better. A few of those goals my head just wasn't focused the way it should be. But I'm not beating myself up over it. I think we have a decent team, and once everyone becomes more familiar with each other I think we'll do just fine.
And speaking of obnoxious yellow jerseys, I've found another goalie that I just love to watch. Until it's Tuukka-time again, I'll have my eye on Pekka Rinne. He is just pure energy. I am pretty sure he's made of lightning. The other night while watching the Predators I was transfixed, and tweeted "Does Rinne ever stop moving?" One of the things about Rask that I've never quite been able to put my finger on is the way he moves. Rinne has it too, only with more electricity. But it's not wasted energy, he doesn't wear himself out. Rather it's like he feeds off it. It's a kinetic chain of goalie awesomeness. I was pretty satisfied with myself when just a few minutes later, goalie scout extraordinaire @TheGoalieGuild tweeted similar observations in his article "Rinne and the Trait of Constant Motion". (Go read it. He explains it way better than I ever could). Anytime I'm on the same page as Justin I feel pretty smart.
These playoffs have featured some really excellent goalie-watching. Unless you're watching Pittsburgh/Philly, that is. But hey what those games lack in goaltending they make up for in bloodshed, and we all need hockey to go back to the goonery of the 70's/80's, right? But that would be another post. For now I'll just leave it here, and be excited that I have 7 playoff-filled days before I get on a plane for Nationals. Only a week away! It seems like an eternity, with my focus still largely on work crap. I am so looking forward to this trip. Yay hockey!
I was really nervous going into our game on Monday night. I haven't been in the role of team organizer before, and this season that task fell to me. We have three groups of people forming this team; former Hawks, a few Quarry Cats, and a few guys no one knows that the rink put on our team to give us enough players. Being the mother hen that I am, I was nervous about everyone getting along, and hoping that the "new guys" would be cool and not d-bags. We lucked out in that department; they seem like good guys. We had to scrounge around for some extra yellow jerseys, since not everyone had one, but we made it work.
Unfortunately our first game was kind of what I expected it would be, with everyone getting used to each other. We lost 7-1, and I think I've played better. A few of those goals my head just wasn't focused the way it should be. But I'm not beating myself up over it. I think we have a decent team, and once everyone becomes more familiar with each other I think we'll do just fine.
And speaking of obnoxious yellow jerseys, I've found another goalie that I just love to watch. Until it's Tuukka-time again, I'll have my eye on Pekka Rinne. He is just pure energy. I am pretty sure he's made of lightning. The other night while watching the Predators I was transfixed, and tweeted "Does Rinne ever stop moving?" One of the things about Rask that I've never quite been able to put my finger on is the way he moves. Rinne has it too, only with more electricity. But it's not wasted energy, he doesn't wear himself out. Rather it's like he feeds off it. It's a kinetic chain of goalie awesomeness. I was pretty satisfied with myself when just a few minutes later, goalie scout extraordinaire @TheGoalieGuild tweeted similar observations in his article "Rinne and the Trait of Constant Motion". (Go read it. He explains it way better than I ever could). Anytime I'm on the same page as Justin I feel pretty smart.
These playoffs have featured some really excellent goalie-watching. Unless you're watching Pittsburgh/Philly, that is. But hey what those games lack in goaltending they make up for in bloodshed, and we all need hockey to go back to the goonery of the 70's/80's, right? But that would be another post. For now I'll just leave it here, and be excited that I have 7 playoff-filled days before I get on a plane for Nationals. Only a week away! It seems like an eternity, with my focus still largely on work crap. I am so looking forward to this trip. Yay hockey!
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
The twilight of the Cougarhawks
I have to hand it to @hkygrl12 and @eco_panda, they have put together quite an awesome team. It was a ton of fun to play with those guys (and gals) this season, and all of us are bummed that we won't be together again for the Spring session. The Cougars have several (about 5) regulars coming back to the team and so there isn't enough room for all of us to stay. So last night was our final game together, a consolation game between two losing teams of playoff games. Which is to say, it didn't mean much, and started out as just a ton of fun. I even wore my brand spanking new glove that I'd had for all of about 3 hours, figuring a game that didn't "mean" anything was as good a time as any to try it out.
And it was a smashing success. It needs some more breaking in, but I think it will definitely be ready for Florida. It needs to mold to my hand a little more but once it does it will be perfect. I'm already a little in love with it, because it makes awesome saves all by itself. Seriously. It's got a little goalie-brain of its own in there. I made a wicked save toward the end of the game, one that got lots of cheers from the bench. Cheers, and then jeers. The jeers were for GoalieHusband, who had deflected it perfectly from its trajectory, which I had covered, to one that was going up and over my shoulder. But The Glove flicked out and snatched that sucker out of the air like a frog slurping up an unsuspecting fly. It surprised even me. The puck even nestles perfectly in the pocket, getting a nice little goalie hug. See? I told you I'm in love with it
As for the game, it started out perfect, exactly the kind of game I was expecting and looking forward to; a laid back affair that was fun, yet still competitive. There was even quite a bit of jawing between some of us and one of the refs, a drinking buddy of ours from a few years back. Unfortunately the other team didn't seem to have quite the same expectations. I think they thought our game was the prelude to the Stanley Cup playoff games about to begin. They were chippy, even with each other, and there was no end to their bitching and moaning. More than once, my D and I looked at each other with a "what is WITH these guys?" look on our faces. One guy was particularly consistent with the complaining and yapping, aimed at one of my D for standing up for me. He yapped as he set up for the face off, continued yapping at the drop of the puck, and followed her into the corner, still carrying on. I took that opportunity to inform him that I hadn't heard that much bitching since I was in a women's locker room. I don't think he heard me though. He was too busy chasing eco_panda and trying to insult her by calling her "DUUUUDE". Because that's so highly offensive.
Though we'd gone up 4-2 at one point, we ended up tied 5-5 at the end, and when the buzzer went off, we were on the penalty kill. There was some discussion as to how to resolve the tie, and though I was praying for a straight shootout (knowing our guys would smoke the other goalie... sorry goalie gods), they gave us a 3 minute OT first. Unfortunately they took advantage of the extra man and scored before the power play was over. Dang. Not how I wanted to end that game, not at all. We made up for it in the parking lot afterwards though, as anyone who saw my tweets can attest. I was the unofficial secretary of MBN that night, chronicling all the new rules we had to create based on the crassness of the conversations (thank you GoalieHusband).
It will be interesting playing against this team next session. As Cap put it, at least we know there's one more team that's not a bunch of complete d-bags now. I have taken the reins in organizing what will be known as the Silverhawks, a nod to our first ever instructional league team. There aren't enough of us to have a full team, so we'll have a few free agents added to the roster, but hopefully they won't be d-bags either. I'm actually kind of nervous about the whole thing. I've never stepped into this role before, and I'm anxious about the team not doing well, or people not getting along. I guess we'll see - the season starts next week already. Hope that glove is ready for more action.
And it was a smashing success. It needs some more breaking in, but I think it will definitely be ready for Florida. It needs to mold to my hand a little more but once it does it will be perfect. I'm already a little in love with it, because it makes awesome saves all by itself. Seriously. It's got a little goalie-brain of its own in there. I made a wicked save toward the end of the game, one that got lots of cheers from the bench. Cheers, and then jeers. The jeers were for GoalieHusband, who had deflected it perfectly from its trajectory, which I had covered, to one that was going up and over my shoulder. But The Glove flicked out and snatched that sucker out of the air like a frog slurping up an unsuspecting fly. It surprised even me. The puck even nestles perfectly in the pocket, getting a nice little goalie hug. See? I told you I'm in love with it
As for the game, it started out perfect, exactly the kind of game I was expecting and looking forward to; a laid back affair that was fun, yet still competitive. There was even quite a bit of jawing between some of us and one of the refs, a drinking buddy of ours from a few years back. Unfortunately the other team didn't seem to have quite the same expectations. I think they thought our game was the prelude to the Stanley Cup playoff games about to begin. They were chippy, even with each other, and there was no end to their bitching and moaning. More than once, my D and I looked at each other with a "what is WITH these guys?" look on our faces. One guy was particularly consistent with the complaining and yapping, aimed at one of my D for standing up for me. He yapped as he set up for the face off, continued yapping at the drop of the puck, and followed her into the corner, still carrying on. I took that opportunity to inform him that I hadn't heard that much bitching since I was in a women's locker room. I don't think he heard me though. He was too busy chasing eco_panda and trying to insult her by calling her "DUUUUDE". Because that's so highly offensive.
Though we'd gone up 4-2 at one point, we ended up tied 5-5 at the end, and when the buzzer went off, we were on the penalty kill. There was some discussion as to how to resolve the tie, and though I was praying for a straight shootout (knowing our guys would smoke the other goalie... sorry goalie gods), they gave us a 3 minute OT first. Unfortunately they took advantage of the extra man and scored before the power play was over. Dang. Not how I wanted to end that game, not at all. We made up for it in the parking lot afterwards though, as anyone who saw my tweets can attest. I was the unofficial secretary of MBN that night, chronicling all the new rules we had to create based on the crassness of the conversations (thank you GoalieHusband).
It will be interesting playing against this team next session. As Cap put it, at least we know there's one more team that's not a bunch of complete d-bags now. I have taken the reins in organizing what will be known as the Silverhawks, a nod to our first ever instructional league team. There aren't enough of us to have a full team, so we'll have a few free agents added to the roster, but hopefully they won't be d-bags either. I'm actually kind of nervous about the whole thing. I've never stepped into this role before, and I'm anxious about the team not doing well, or people not getting along. I guess we'll see - the season starts next week already. Hope that glove is ready for more action.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
You Be The Judge
Yesterday, I informed my friend that I am not a complete goalie whore, and had a story to prove it. Her response? "I know you're not, because you don't slobber over Maaaaaarrrtyyyyy". She has a point. However, that didn't stop me from telling her my story. But she had a completely different take on it, so I bring it here for you all to be the judge.
I've known for a while now that I really need to invest in a new glove. Mine is, in addition to it's layer of slime on the inside, completely discolored with sweat on the outside, missing several key pieces of lacing, and rusted where there are metal eyelets. This is not a high quality glove. I got it on clearance maybe 4 years ago, in an effort to replace the one I'd bought without thinking, which was slightly smaller than a satellite dish. It served me well, but it's past time to upgrade. So, off GoalieHusband and I went to the local Hockey Monkey, for a little shopping.
I'm not completely married to a brand, but I do tend to like Vaughn. My pads, pants and blocker are all Vaughn and I love them. Naturally, I figured I'd be in the market for a Vaughn glove as well. Since I have dainty girly hands, senior size is too big (hence the satellite glove), so we were looking at intermediate sized gloves. I went straight for the Vaughns, but they didn't fit quite right. The break in the palm was just a tad off. I tried a few other brands and styles, one of which fit perfectly. I didn't settle on it then and there though. The problem? It was a ghastly bright yellow-orange. The tag said "Bauer RX8 SE - Bruins". For a split second my brain went "OOOOOOOOO! Bruins!" and then the logical part took over. That glove would just look hideous with the rest of my gear (and jerseys).
I am not one of those goalies who is all nutso about their gear being perfectly matched. My pads and blocker are both Vaughn, yes, but my pads have a maroon graphic whereas my blocker has black. So it really wouldn't bother me if the glove was white with black, black with silver, etc. But..... gold??? Talk about an eyesore. And imagine that with my black and red, or predominately red Quarry Cats jerseys. Ewww. It would look right at home with the gold-yellow Hawks jersey but we never know from season to season what we're doing, so that's not something to bank on.
And so, I didn't buy it. It was the only one in the store, so I went online and ordered it in a different "colorway". I got the Chicago 2 color... closest to what wouldn't look awful with the rest of my gear and jerseys. I told my friend this story, and pointed out that I could have just scooped it up because it was "Tuukka-colored" but did not, and therefore I am not a complete goalie whore. Do you know what she said? She said "That doesn't prove you're not a goalie whore, that just proves you're a chick who is worried about her gear not matching."
Now. I know plenty of boy goalies who are pretty particular about their gear. Not all of them, mind you, but most of them. So I leave it to you readers to decide. Proof of logic trumping fandom? Or proof that I'm really just pretty girly after all?
(I do feel the need to point out that neither Rask nor Thomas uses a Bauer glove, so I'm not sure what the deal is with the whole "Boston" thing. Rask uses a Vaughn and Thomas uses a Piku..... but somehow I don't think this statement is helping my "I'm not a goalie whore" cause that much so I'll just shut it right now....)
I've known for a while now that I really need to invest in a new glove. Mine is, in addition to it's layer of slime on the inside, completely discolored with sweat on the outside, missing several key pieces of lacing, and rusted where there are metal eyelets. This is not a high quality glove. I got it on clearance maybe 4 years ago, in an effort to replace the one I'd bought without thinking, which was slightly smaller than a satellite dish. It served me well, but it's past time to upgrade. So, off GoalieHusband and I went to the local Hockey Monkey, for a little shopping.
I'm not completely married to a brand, but I do tend to like Vaughn. My pads, pants and blocker are all Vaughn and I love them. Naturally, I figured I'd be in the market for a Vaughn glove as well. Since I have dainty girly hands, senior size is too big (hence the satellite glove), so we were looking at intermediate sized gloves. I went straight for the Vaughns, but they didn't fit quite right. The break in the palm was just a tad off. I tried a few other brands and styles, one of which fit perfectly. I didn't settle on it then and there though. The problem? It was a ghastly bright yellow-orange. The tag said "Bauer RX8 SE - Bruins". For a split second my brain went "OOOOOOOOO! Bruins!" and then the logical part took over. That glove would just look hideous with the rest of my gear (and jerseys).
I am not one of those goalies who is all nutso about their gear being perfectly matched. My pads and blocker are both Vaughn, yes, but my pads have a maroon graphic whereas my blocker has black. So it really wouldn't bother me if the glove was white with black, black with silver, etc. But..... gold??? Talk about an eyesore. And imagine that with my black and red, or predominately red Quarry Cats jerseys. Ewww. It would look right at home with the gold-yellow Hawks jersey but we never know from season to season what we're doing, so that's not something to bank on.
And so, I didn't buy it. It was the only one in the store, so I went online and ordered it in a different "colorway". I got the Chicago 2 color... closest to what wouldn't look awful with the rest of my gear and jerseys. I told my friend this story, and pointed out that I could have just scooped it up because it was "Tuukka-colored" but did not, and therefore I am not a complete goalie whore. Do you know what she said? She said "That doesn't prove you're not a goalie whore, that just proves you're a chick who is worried about her gear not matching."
Now. I know plenty of boy goalies who are pretty particular about their gear. Not all of them, mind you, but most of them. So I leave it to you readers to decide. Proof of logic trumping fandom? Or proof that I'm really just pretty girly after all?
(I do feel the need to point out that neither Rask nor Thomas uses a Bauer glove, so I'm not sure what the deal is with the whole "Boston" thing. Rask uses a Vaughn and Thomas uses a Piku..... but somehow I don't think this statement is helping my "I'm not a goalie whore" cause that much so I'll just shut it right now....)
Monday, April 2, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
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!
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!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
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? ;)
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? ;)
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