How to Evaluate a Rink Shower

Last week I didn't feel much like writing and reporting the less than successful weekend the Cats (and I personally) had. White tied again, 4-4, in the exact same manner: a late goal to tie it. In fact, it was with 1.7 seconds left on the clock. See? Nothing to write home about. Red lost 3-2, and I felt I could have been better in both games. I sullenly asked what the point was of all the off-season work I did if I couldn't help my team win. Since finishing Ultimate Goalie Training, I've been dithering around with other workouts, mostly back to the start of "Goalie Workout Club", but I wasn't finding that challenging enough. So on Friday I decided to start UGT over again from the beginning. Let me tell you, Phase 1 was nowhere near the piece of cake I thought it would be. I don't know if it was coincidence or not, but last night I felt back to my old form. Confident, strong, and alert. There were a few saves I made that in previous games probably would have gone in. I'd been over thinking things and playing awkwardly. Now I feel much more confident and comfortable in my own skin. We faced off against a pretty challenging team last night and won 5-1. We played a really good game, including killing off almost 3 complete penalties. (The lone goal came at the very end  of the last PK, on a screened shot from the point). I was very happy with the way I played. Nice change of pace.

Today I'm in the net for Red, at a rink we love to visit because of the proximity to a Houlihan's, which we always end up descending upon after our game. It's pretty funny when the conversation in the locker room goes like this:

"Where are we next week?"

"We're at the Blades"

"Yes!!!! Beers and stuffed mushrooms at Houlihans!!!!"


Personally, I evaluate rinks partially by the likelihood of a decent post-game shower. I'm the only player on either of my teams who showers after a game or practice, and I think for the most part this has a lot to do with the distance of my drive home. Most of them live pretty close to the rink, so don't have the prospect of a long stinky ride home. I got into the habit of it when I used to play early in the morning before work, and it seems to have stuck.  A post game/practice shower is not only refreshing, it's extremely relaxing. Unfortunately, the facilities in a lot of rinks leave a lot to be desired. Perhaps men are a lot less picky about their showers, but I evaluate them based on the following criteria:


Is there actually a handle on the faucet or is it just a knob of hockey tape on the naked stem?
This could be a deal-breaker. The ability to turn the water on is pretty crucial.

Is the water at least lukewarm?
Some showers take a while to warm up, so this could be deceiving. I have showered in some pretty cold showers though, it all depends on how disgusting I am. This also helps train you to take quick showers.

Does it smell like a combination of pee and Axe?
If so, a high school team has been in the locker room the session just before you. A sturdy pair of shower shoes negates the risk.

Are there small insects rising up from the drains?
Yes? Well.... when you run the water you'll drown them, so this one can go either way.

Do the showers join two locker rooms, with access from the other room?
Not a concern for guys, I guess, but when you realize some dude could walk in on you, it's going to be a smelly ride home.

Are there suspicious brown smears on the walls?
I'm not sure how these get there, other than by someone holding their butt cheeks open and spraying like a cat, but if showers are in that condition, I will invariably skip them.

Other than the two professional facilities I've played in, most rink showers seem to fall somewhere in the middle of this spectrum. Sadly, my home rink doesn't pass most of these criteria, but most of the time I end up showering anyway. With my glasses off, I can't see much anyway, so as long as I don't touch anything I'm pretty good. (Except for the brown smears. That is just unacceptable.)

Game 1 of ???

If nothing else, it's going to be an interesting season. Oh wait. We're the Quarry Cats. It's ALWAYS an interesting season! For me though, it will be a little challenging and I have very mixed feelings. My partner, Bacardi, is unable to commit to the season this year because of some major life stuff going on. She's devastated, as I would be, but she just can't do it this year. The teams have conferred and we think we can keep her involved, playing whatever games she is able to, and I will cover the rest. There are only a few times in the season where it would be physically impossible for me to play both the Red and White game that weekend. But between Bacardi possibly being able to play, and a handful of other goalies (heeeey #goalieharem) we can ask, it should be just fine. Nobody wanted to just go out and get another goalie to take her place. That's not how we roll. And that is what makes this team so awesome. So what does that mean for me? Well, I am in the strange position of looking forward to the opportunity to play lots of games, but at the same time feeling terrible for my buddy. We are keeping in touch though, and I hope she doesn't hesitate to jump in when she can.

So, my very busy season started last night. The White team traveled to face off against the Hawks. Last season we beat them in the regular season (I got a shutout in fact), only to take them too lightly in the playoffs and lose to them in the semi-final. As a result I was looking to the game for a bit of personal redemption. It was that loss that had prompted me to bust my ass training all summer, and I was hoping to make a very good showing. Unfortunately I disappointed myself and, I feel, my team. I know that everyone was busy blaming themselves, and not me, but we tied 4-4 and two of those goals were pretty weak, so I am frustrated with myself. What was all that training for if I'm going to give up goals like that? I'm trying to be patient with myself- it's only the first game of the season.

There were several high points though. I made lots of good saves, and our two rookies each got a goal. One is a teammate from the Red team last season who tried out for White this summer and made it. When she scored a beautiful goal with a shot over the other goalie's shoulder and into the top of the netting, I whooped and hollered with the rest of the team. The other was a girl who had the unusual distinction of earning her nickname at the very first game. Before it, in fact. Her name is Gabby, but she will be forever known as "Pete" now. We already had a Gabbie on the team, and were trying to figure out how to make the distinction. "Old Gabbie" was immediately rejected. "Classic Gabbie", "Vintage Gabbie" and "Pre-existing Gabbie" were floated but when new-Gabby said "You can call me anything you want. You can call me Pete for all I care," that was the end of that. When Coach (i.e. GoalieHusband) came in to read off the lines, and got to her, everyone interrupted him and said "No, her name is Pete!". He paused, confused, and said to her "P-e-a? Or just 'P'?" We all giggled and yelled "No, PETE"! He shrugged, crossed something out on his pad and said "Ok then. Pete it is." So, naturally, when she scored, everyone went nuts and yelled "Peeeeeeeete!"

All teams are off today. Blue played last night as well and won, 7-2, with only 8 skaters. Monx77 netted one after a long and frustrating season off due to injury, which only made that victory sweeter. Next weekend the double-duty starts for me. Red on Saturday and White on Sunday. But before that, practice on Wednesday. A dry glove? What is that?

Fighting MS in PA

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go Goalie, Go

Three and a half months ago, after a bitter bitter loss in the league playoffs, I found UGT 3.0 VIP and signed up, vowing to do everything within my power not to feel like that ever again. My track record with workout programs for the year prior to that wasn't the best- I'd start out with great intentions and a week later I'd find all kinds of excuses and reasons not to get my butt out of bed and into the gym. But this program seemed different. There were interactive elements to it that I thought would help with not only my motivation, but my accountability. The way I felt about this program was similar to the way I felt when I first started playing goal: I was absolutely, positively determined not to sabotage myself. And it's been very difficult at times, but it's paying off. I can feel a big difference on the ice, and quite honestly off it as well. I'm about 3-4 weeks behind the rest of the group that started at the same time as me, but I've had a tournament each month since starting that I've had to work around. I just completed Phase 3 and am about to start Phase 4, when I get back from vacation and the upcoming tournament this weekend.

This program is designed for professionals. It's progressive, the workouts are long (60-90 minutes), basically, it's hard. There have been times when I've wondered if I'm being ridiculous, a late 30's beer leaguer with a full time job trying to keep up with (very much younger) guys who have nothing to do but train all day and be in great shape for training camp. At one point I even emailed Maria, asking how I'd know if the program was just too hard for me. She said it's only too hard if you don't make the time for it and keep your commitment to it. Well, ok then. That little flame of self-doubt squelched, I banked on my competitiveness and pushed on. When I did the final workout in Phase 3 I felt triumphant. As I tweeted, I really thought that phase would be the death of me. I was really dragging, and in desperate need of some recovery days. Fortunately, that's when my vacation started. It's been several days of complete sluggy bliss, lounging about on the beach, reading, just being flat out lazy. Imagine my surprise when, in the midst of my best impression of a slug, I got an email from Maria informing me that she had chosen me as this month's "All Star".  I was flabbergasted. Of the hundreds of athletes she trains, and of those God knows how many are pros, she chose me??? I read the email out loud to my husband and brother-in-law (who happened to be sitting right there). I told my sister and my cousin. I may have squealed a little.

This morning was the end of my recovery period. I had a body-weight workout all ready to go, my clothes laid out to jump right into and get going. When I rolled over to shut off the alarm on my clock I saw it - the email going out to everyone, with the article about... me! Tough to beat that for motivation. I was out there on the porch, facing the water, kicking my own ass. I'll be at it again Friday morning, too. I have a tournament to play in this weekend, and I'm playing in the highest division. Behind 8 skaters. I'm going to need all the help I can get. Go goalie, go.

Fighting MS in Vermont - Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fighting MS in Vermont - Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How I lost my coffee privileges (and how I'll win them back)

There's nothing I like more on my way to work than a nice hot cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. Especially after a workout (which is probably horrible for you but oh well). Unfortunately for the next 30 days I will have to forgo that particular pleasure, because I have to keep a promise to myself.

Last month when I started UGT, I expressed concern that I wouldn't stick with it. That I'd get going real good and then just flop. Maria suggested I set a goal, and also define something I'd sacrifice if I didn't meet the goal. So, I said I'd do the whole month of workouts, and if I didn't, no Dunkin on my way to work, for a month. I know. I heard you gasp. (But I didn't say no Dunkin, ever. Just clarifying).

As I mentioned yesterday, I fell short of that goal. In reality what I meant was get through the whole month without slacking, but that's not what I said. And I completely forgot a out the tournament when I was making that proclamation. So... no Dunks for me for the next month.

So now I have the chance to win it back. Here's my goal for this month, right here on the Internet where I can't back out of it. I will do the complete month of workouts- if for some reason I miss one I will make it up before moving on to the next phase. Barring major health issues though, I'm only giving myself 3 extra days. What I don't want is to end up 7 weeks later still derping along, not finished with 4 weeks worth of workouts. This stuff is progressive, so taking too long kind of defeats the purpose.

Setting the alarm for 5 a.m. #gogoaliego #accountability