Rest

Rest.

That's what I thought that I was going to be getting in these next few weeks, with the gap between the summer and winter leagues.  However, it looks like that won't be the case.  My phone started ringing yesterday with guys asking me to play for them in their leagues, in their playoff games.  I have a hard time saying "no" when it comes to hockey, I always have, and I always will.

I will manage to get some rest though.  I won't be playing five straight days anytime in the near future (or at least in the next two weeks).  I need the rest, desperately.  Yesterday morning everything hurt, everything ached...  Perhaps that's just my bodies way of reminding me that I really am not as young as I think I am.  I recognize that I can't do all of the things that I could do when I was younger and just expect to bounce back right away, "Five straight days of hockey, no fucking problem..."  I wish that was still the case.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not half dead over here, but I'm not sure if I am half alive either...

The funny part about trying to get a little rest is, well, I hate it.  Yeah.  I fucking hate not playing hockey.  When I don't play I feel like something is missing from my day.  I hate not being in a rink, going through all of my absurd pre-game rituals and superstitions...  I miss competing, I miss that camaraderie among the guys, giving each other shit endlessly...  I realize though, that I do in fact need the rest, my body is screaming at me to take a few extra days off.  I hear it, and I will, but there is a funny thing that happens when you get older, it takes longer to get back into the swing of things.  The more time I take off, the longer it will take for me to get back into that grove again...

Just the same though, I do need the rest, but I'll be honest, I can't fucking wait to get back into it once the winter league gets going again.  

You win some, you lose some...

Well, it was, hmmm, what was it exactly?  

A good game?  No.  A bad game?  No.

I was dirty, it was chippy, their mouths were non stop, and they proved that they are hands down, the team with the least amount of class in ANY league that I have ever played in.  The end of the game turned into a bench clear with about forty seconds to go, and in an effort to prove what little class they had, they started yelling at our fans in the stands.

Seriously.  Yelling at mothers, girlfriends, sisters...  Classless.  One of their players actually picked up the puck and threw it at one of our wingers.  Who the fuck does that?  Classless. They weren't even going to line up and shake hands, as has been the custom for decades in hockey.  They have one player on that team that I respect, I called him over to shake his hand, and it was then that they realized that they should in fact line up and shake hands.  When the goaltender from the losing team is the first guy, in the middle of a bench clearing tussle (because it wasn't a brawl) to extend his hand and say, "Good game," that's when you know that its time to man up, to stop being a bunch of little punks and return the afore mentioned sentiment.  

(For people who know me, for my teammates, for the players on the teams that I compete against, they know that I am fiercely competitive and may just be one of the biggest sore losers on the planet.  I accept that about myself, I hate to fucking lose, at anything, to anyone. Ever.  For me, when someone says, "It's just a game, and that I shouldn't care about losing" needs to fuck off.  There is only one kind of person in the world that is ok with losing.  A loser.)  

Just the same, I love the game of hockey, I respect the game of hockey and its traditions.  The line, the hand shake, it's one of hockey's greatest.  You spend an hour kicking the shit out of each other, and then, at the end, you line up, and shake hands, and say "good game" whether you want to or not.  At the end of a game like that I'd rather line up and tell them all to fuck off and punch them all in the teeth sure, but that's not our team, that's not the way that we play.  So we manned up, we shook the hand of the team that beat us, because when that final buzzer sounds, that's what you do.  And we did.

So we didn't win.  I wanted to sure, our team wanted to, but we didn't pull it out last night.  

Winter League starts in 3 weeks...   

Overtime

We won.

The first round of the playoffs are over, and they ended in a rather stunning fashion.

It might have been one of the best games played in that rink all summer.  It was a tight, hard fought contest from start to finish.  About thirty seconds, maybe a little more than that, forty five maybe, we scored the first goal.  Four minutes later they scored on a breakaway that I thought that I had, but it just skipped off my glove into the net.  They scored the second goal on a tipped shot, through a screen from the point on the right wing boards.  We tied it up a few minutes later, only to have the lead slip away again when they broke in on a two on one and scored on a bang-bang play, high on the stick side...  I know that it doesn't sound good at this point, but not to worry.  The first ended 3-2 for the bad guys.

We managed to tie the game on a brilliant singular effort that may have easily been one of the nicest goals that I witnessed all summer.  Jake, one of our centers, cut across the bottom of the right wing circle, turned two defense men inside out, and then leaning forward, shot across his body and over the shoulder of the opposing goaltender.  

The game ended tied 3-3, bring us to overtime.  Now, there is nothing better than sudden death, win or go home overtime.  While we were waiting for the overtime period to begin, I kept reminding the guys to stay loose, stay relaxed.  

Thirty seconds in to the overtime the game ended on an absolutely filthy wrap around goal.  Jubilation ensued.

So that's it, we won, and now we are in the finals, and will be playing my least favorite team, the Jailhouse.  The whinny little fuckers with their D1 players...  It will be a very difficult team to beat, but their goaltender and defense can be victimized if we pressure them as we should and isolate their key player.

So, Friday night, at 8 p.m. in Orleans, at the Charles Moore Arena, we'll be playing our second championship game of the year, as we we in the winter league championship game also.  We've been there, and yeah, it's just another men's league game, but for us, it does mean something, this is why you play organized sports, for the bragging rights, because that's all you'll come out of the season with.  That, and the camaraderie of your teammates, that bond, those friendships.  That's what getting this far, battling through the season, through single elimination playoff game that winds up in overtime, and coming out on top wins you, friendships that are unbreakable, almost like family...

Bearing down

In three days, the OMHL playoffs for the summer season begin.

We found out who our opponent will be last friday afternoon.  There was a bit of confusion as three teams tied for second place in terms of points. When we left the rink wednesday night after our win over the Jailhouse, we were under the impression that we would be playing them again this wednesday night in the first round of the playoffs.  With the three way tie however, that changed.  Now we'll be playing the team known as Top Gun.  They're a good young team, with a very solid goaltender.  

To tell you the truth, I was very happy to hear that was who our first round opponent was going to be, because I honestly don't want to see that Jailhouse team again unless I absolutely have to, which would be in the Championship game, provided that we both make it that far.  I like the first round match-ups though, and with the experience on our team, I like our chances.  Our guys have all been there before, and a lot of them played in competitive college hockey programs...  So a few men's league playoff games won't phase them.  Now some of the younger teams might get a case of nerves pre-game, I've seen it myself a few times, and with a team with our experience, it works in our favor.  

So for the next few days I'll be thinking about how their guys play, where they like to shoot, what their moves are, their preferences in our zone.  It's like I said, they are a good young team, and they've got all the moves.  The thing about them is that they play like a team, they don't have any standout players and the stick together, and stick up for each other.  They'll be a tough team to beat, but we're all looking forward to the challenge of playing them.  If we play our game, play smart and hard, and bear down every shift of that game, we'll be fine.  If we don't bear down, we're fucked, plain and simple.

Tough vs Dirty

We had our last regular season game of the OMHL summer session last night.  It was interesting to say the least.  Now, I thought about giving an overview of the game, as I would regularly do, but there is a little something else that is on my mind about our opponent from last night...

The team that we played is full of punks and cry babies.  I have never heard a team bitch and gripe as much as they do. With every whistle from the ref came screeching and whining about the call, or non-call for that matter.  I honestly wish that they (the refs) use the zero tolerance policy as it is spelled out.  Which is basically, "Open your fucking mouth in my direction and sit down for a minute and a half."  Seriously.  These fucking clowns need to shut the fuck up.  I'm tired of it, my teammates are tired of it, all of the other teams in the league are tired of it.  

The part that really kills me about these clowns is that they are a one trick pony.  They've got a kid on the team that is currently a starting first line winger for Northeastern University.  The nights that he shows up, he controls the game, and the nights that he doesn't show up, forget it, those retards couldn't find the opposing teams goal with a fucking map and a sherpa to guide them there...  Like I said, one trick pony.  

Last night was our third time facing them, with our previous two games not only ending up in the loss column, (for us) but also ending in a may-lay both times, because not only do they whine like a three year old kid that just had his lollypop taken away, they are, hands down, the dirtiest team in the league.  Now, there is a difference between being dirty, and being tough.   A tough team will get into it with you face to face, a tough team plays hard, but clean, and always to the whistle. They'll play with honor and dignity, and they are not afraid to take their medicine when it's their turn to take it.  Now a dirty team, well, that is just a team full of spineless rats, a team full of shitheads that will hit you when you're not looking, spear you the minute the refs turn their heads, they'll try to kick your skates out from under you, and when it comes time for them to have to take a little of that very same medicine, they bitch and whine about it like a couple of girls from Kentucky fighting over the last prom dress at the local Wal-Mart. 

Now, we are a tough team, we play hard, but we don't take any shit, and if you feel the need to square up with one of us, be ready, because we won't be fucking playing around.  The team we played last night, dirty little fairies.  A bunch of rats and cock suckers.  I'm tired of it, our team was tired of it, and we let them know it last night with the beating that we handed them.  It was a big win for us in a lot of ways, first, they had their full compliment of players, which includes the one trick pony.  Second, they beat us the previous two times that we played them.  Third we were down 2-0, and 3-1 early, but came back to win 7-5. (Although we should have won 6-3, but with 2 minutes left they pulled their goalie and went for broke, they got it to within one, but we managed an empty netter to seal the deal.)  Was the game chippy, hell yeah it was, but that is how games like that, against teams like those tend to go.  We decided early on not to take any shit from them, and we didn't

I would have to say that about four minutes into the game, I may have, um, accidentally set the tone for the game from that point on.  I went behind the goal to play the puck, and in an attempt to fire it high off the glass and out of the zone I accidentally caught one of their wingers in the throat with my stick.  I have to say this, it was an unpleasant sound.  Hollow.  Anyway, he's a little guy, possibly a borderline "little person," and when he came down the on the forecheck, he came in low.  Honestly, I never even saw him, and when I went to clear the puck out my follow through hit him right in the throat.  Whatever.  Big fucking deal.  It's not like I killed him, and like I said, it was an accident.  I've been hit in the throat a few times myself, and let me tell you, it's not much fun.  That being said though, I had an awfully hard time mustering up any remorse or even the slightest bit of guilt for it, and if you're wondering why it's because it was an accident.  Yep, I slept like a baby last night.  It's not my fault the kid is 5'2", or whatever ridiculously pathetic height he actually is.  I thought it was cute though, when we were going through the handshake line, that he felt the need to call me a "winner," to which I could only respond, "Well, yeah actually, tonight I am..."  Little prick.

It felt good to beat them, and it felt even better knowing that they blew it.  

So next week playoffs for the OMHL start, and just like in Dennis, it will be a one and done format, so if we fuck up, we're out, and if we don't, we keep playing.  

Playoffs, PLAYOFFS!?!?!?

So we had our playoff game for the Dennis Men's League last night...

I picked a bad night to play my worst hockey of the summer.  There is no doubt in my mind that had someone rolled a beach ball at me, it would have gone in.  In a word, I was "terrible."  I thought that the guys played great, they had a ton of chances at the offensive end of the ice, but were a little snake bit.  Four of five posts, a crossbar, and a goalie that WAS making the SAVES he was supposed to make.

I'm not going to sit here and try to come up with excuses about why I played so badly, or what went wrong, the fact is, I played horribly.  I let my team down, fortunately though, they didn't seem to care all that much.  Also, there was a little extracurricular activity with about three and a half minutes to go (we were tied at the time), but the penalties that we received put us down a man for the remainder of the game.  They scored twice in those last few minutes and that was that.

Anyway, I am going to put it out of my mind.  It happened, it's over, time to move on to the next game.  No sense losing sleep over it.

Two a days...?

So I managed to get to the rink yesterday afternoon to give those suspenders a try.  I like them.  They didn't take nearly as long to get used to as I thought that they would, HOWEVER, there was some, uh, chaffing.  You have to understand that I am one of the few players out there (that up until yesterday afternoon)  don't wear an undershirt beneath my gear.  I tried it once, but I get too hot, it makes me crazy.  Here's the thing about the suspenders, I like them enough to actually start wearing something under my gear, because like I said before, I can do without the chaffing.

So I picked up an Under Armor sleeveless compression shirt, which I promptly tried out at a 9:50 NESMHL game at Bavis in Rockland.  

I didn't expect to play a second time yesterday, but when I got off the ice in Orleans at a little after 4 p.m. I had a text message asking me (begging really) if I could skate at 9:50 that night.  Normally, I would have said no thanks, especially considering that I knew that I would be working  today (something that almost never happens on a Saturday).  However, me being me, it's almost impossible for me to say no to a request which involves me playing hockey, especially for this particular team in that particular league.  

Now, the team that asked me to skate for them is a solid team, it has a few grizzled veterans, a couple of young guys, and a few guys right in the middle, age wise anyhow, but all of them can play, and play smart.  They made the game easy for me last night, I swear I only saw five shots in the first period.  There is a funny thing that happens when a team skates with a goaltender that they don't normally skate with and aren't used to having behind them.  They play with a lot more defensive tenacity.  I would say that it takes about a period and a half for that to wear off, for both the goaltender, and the players to get comfortable with each other.  Hell, trust takes time, they need to trust me, and I need to trust them.  Over the long term, I'd say it takes roughly three to five full games to really understand how to play with each other.  There is without question a learning curve.  Anyhow, we were able to score in the first 15 seconds of that period, giving us a 1-0 lead heading into the second.

The second period saw the pace pick up quite a bit.  Both teams started pouring it on.  My opposition managed to get one past me about halfway through the second on a very nice bang-bang play.  The right winger was able to move the puck into the zone and set up down low just below the goal line, my left defenseman moved in, but the winger was able to swiftly pass the puck into the slot were the center was waiting (and more than likely drooling) to fire the puck into a (almost) wide open net.  I still feel that I should have been able to better anticipate the pass out of the corner and make the save, but just the same, it was a nice shot.  We managed to score again about a minute and a half later, and then again with less than ten seconds left in the period, giving us a 3-1 lead headed into the third.

The third period saw a big role reversal, because as far as I could see, the first two periods we carried the play.  In the third, those bastards on the other team came out looking for blood.  They spent the vast majority of the period "hanging" guys on our blue line, trying to, and in some cases, accomplishing the "home run pass" sending the cherry picking douche bag unfettered into our zone.  It only happened twice before we started putting someone on the hanger, which made it difficult for them to connect with those home run passes...  Fortunately, having a two goal cushion in the third period allowed us to sit back a little and play defense.  The opposition did manage to score a second goal with about seven minutes left in the third off what I would consider a TERRIBLE rebound on my part.  Jesus, I fucking hate giving up bad rebounds.  I also hate getting scored on.  Anyway, we scored again about a minute later, and then one more time with about three and a half to go in the final period.  

Add it up, and we won 5-2.  I like winning, actually, I fucking love winning, but I am never thrilled with an hour and ten minute ride home at 11:30 at night when I have to work the next morning.  Was it worth it?  Fuck, of course it was worth it, it was a chance for me to get on the ice, and it was the sixth time in as many days.  

Suspended for $8.60

I didn't play hockey last night, which as ridiculous as it sounds, makes me go crazy with boredom...  I feel like I have nothing to do, I have no need for my afternoon nap, no reason to go through my ritualistic/wildly neurotic bag packing/unpacking.  Worst of all, I have no reason to be at the rink (and no, don't worry, I didn't go to the rink last night).  

I did however buy suspenders yesterday for my goalie pants, because lately, since I bought a new (and thankfully much more protective and bigger) chest and arm protector, I've had some issues with the fit of my pants.  I know that I have mentioned more than once my neurotic tendencies in regard to preparing for hockey games,  but when it comes to my equipment, holy shit.  I swear there is something wrong with me.  I have gone through three chest protectors, four pairs of pants, five gloves, four blockers, five sets of leg pads, and have tried out at least ten different sticks, and three masks...  All in the last ten months.  Yes, in less than a year I have gone through that much gear.  

I have happily however found just the right fit with just about everything that I use most often, but the pants, those God damned pants.  I actually love the shape of the pant, and the level of protection (there was actually too much padding internally around the thighs, so I had to cut a lot of it out as it restricted my mobility), but the fit at the waste is an issue.  I'm a slight guy, I don't have a gut, I haven't reached the point where I could give a shit about my appearance, I'm not going to lie, I'm vain as hell, in fact, my vanity is the reason (partially) that I have so much equipment.  I like my equipment to match the colors of the team that I am playing with.  Simple right, and a little retarded/possibly gay.  You wouldn't believe the shit that I catch in the locker room from guys about my gear.

(Oh, yeah, I'm going to use the word "retarded" and if you don't like it, piss off, and, I use the word "gay."  So all of you politically correct retards out there can piss off and stop being gay about it and get over it).

Digression, sorry, the fit of the pants, right.  They have a nylon belt that you can cinch up to get them tight around the waste, but after a year of trying to deal with the poor fit I broke down and bought some suspenders.  I have always sworn that I wouldn't wear them, and to this point I never have.  Mostly because I am concerned about my mobility, and I am not thrilled about having the straps on my shoulders (I don't wear a tee shirt, or Under Armor like most guys do under their gear.  Again, 20 years of wearing your gear a certain way will make you hesitant about making a change.) but I figured that I would give them a try.  Hell, they were only $8.60, I figured I could take a chance on them...

So I am going to try them out this at 3 this afternoon. I need to play today, borderline HAVE to play.  If I don't, I will more than likely have to go four days without playing, and I haven't done that in over a month, since the weekend of the fourth of  July.  Oh, and did I mention that playoffs for the Dennis Summer Men's League start on Monday?  So there is no fucking way that I am going to go four days without playing, and is also why I am going to try out the suspenders today at a stick session as opposed to Monday, in a playoff game.

Exciting shit right, suspenders for goalie pants...?  At least I wasn't writing about trying to find the perfect goalie cup...

Happy beer drinking winners...

I got to the rink early, as I do every wednesday night, sharpened some skates, got loose, talked to the guys who play the game before us for a bit before I made it into our locker room to begin my somewhat superstitious, and the undeniably ritualistic process of getting dressed for our game.

I start by emptying out the contents of my goalie bag, hanging my chest and arm protector on the wall, and then hanging my game jersey next to it.  I tuck my goalie pants under the locker room bench, place my skates, glove, blocker, and other miscellaneous items on either side of me on the bench...  This process, the emptying out of my bag allows me to one, relax a little, and two, figure out if I left anything at home.  (Which I have done once or twice, I don't even want to talk about the time that I left my skates at home...)  I'm a bit of a neurotic freak show when it comes to getting dressed.  I put everything on in the same order every single time that I get dressed, without fail.  Compression shorts, sanitary socks, hockey socks, cup, goalie pants, right skate, left skate, right pad, left pad...  I tape my left thumb and index finger, and then tape my right index finger.  Then I watch about ten minutes of the game that is being played just before ours.   

I head back into the locker room about a minute before the game ends, put on my chest and arm protector and jersey, and then head out to the bench as the zamboni begins to make its first pass on the ice.  This affords me a solid eleven minutes to stretch myself out.  

Last night, my pre game went exactly that way.  I knew however that we'd be short at least two regulars, so I had made a few calls during the afternoon to fill in some of the gaps, and it's amazing to me how the simple addition of two exceptional players made such a huge difference.  One of the players (Alex) wore the "C" at St. Michael's College in VT, and the other (Devon) played for, and also wore the "C" at Williams College.  Both guys are in their mid to late twenties, so they're not like the young pups that we play against, but their collective experience trumps youth.  They seemed to have a calming affect on our regulars, we ran around less, passes seemed a little more crisp, and we were able to cycle the puck considerably better, which resulted in a more scoring chances than we are used to having.  It payed dividends, we managed to score six goals last night, a feat that we have not accomplished since our first game of the summer session.

Now, for my part, I felt better, more in tune.  My legs, my feet, my arms, my hands, well, they all worked in unison.  I was making the saves that I should have been making, and some saves that I had no business making.  Their first goal came off a ridiculous scramble in front of the net, they managed five or six shots in what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only about thirty to forty five seconds) before they were able to poke it in.  The second goal was an amazing shot through a screen that just caught the inside corner of the goal post and went in, had it been a quarter inch to the left it would have bounced of the post to the corner boards.  LIke I said, it was a perfect shot.  The third goal, yeah, well, I own that one.  It was a partial breakaway, and I let up on it a bit, I thought my defenseman had him cold, and even if he didn't I recognized out of the corner of my eye that my second defenseman was about to be Johnny on the spot.  I was wrong.  He beat us all and fired the puck past my outstretched leg.

Like I said though, we managed six, and if you do the math, that means that we won by three.  Now, I don't give a shit if we win by three, ten, or one, all I care about is winning (and not playing like a donkey in the process), because when we win, I'm happy.  The guys are happy, and beer always tastes better when you are a happy winner...

Defense, where?

So I played a little pick-up hockey tonight, an endeavor which is completely and totally void of any defensive play whatsoever...  It has taken me years to come to grips with that fact.  Oh the hours I have spent wondering;  "Where the hell are my defenseman?" or "Seriously, another two on zero?"  

It has been a slow process, getting to that point, getting to a place where I can finally say to myself that I should use those hour and a half sessions to work on things that I know are wrong with my game.  Little things that slip rather quickly when you have no one to push yourself but, well, yourself.  Like my footwork.  Lately, I have felt discombobulated, that somehow my limbs are working independent of my brain, which, well, has been a problem.  I've been getting myself crossed up when faced with breakaways, which up until recently, I always had little trouble stopping.  Like I said though, lately it's been my footwork which has been the problem, and more than likely has lead to my issues with breakaways.

So tonight, that's what I did, focused on getting my feet right, focused on not cheating (as in leaning toward the pass option on a two on one), and just plain tried to stay focused.  There is a lot to think about out there on the ice, and even more to think about off of it.  I try to take that time out there, on the ice, and forget about all of the other bullshit that life tends to hand you.  Hockey, out on the ice, that's my time, that's my peace and quite.  Sure some nights go straight down the shitter, some nights I can't stop a beach ball.  It's the nights that the other team can't get a pea be me that keep me coming back for more.

So tomorrow is another night, another league game, another chance to be better than I was the last time out.

For the love of the game...

I started playing hockey at the age of twelve, and I am thirty-two now, so simple math leads us to the conclusion that for more than half of my life I have been playing hockey.  In all of that time I have only managed but a mere handful of times to venture out of the little blue box painted about an inch under the ice to play a forward position.  I've spent twenty years receiving nothing but (as Gerry Cheevers put it in his book "Goaltender) "the one 'A,' as in abuse."  

Now don't get me wrong, I love the game, I always have and I always will.  For guys like me, and the men on the teams I play for, our love of the game runs as deeply as it can, because, honestly, when you get to a certain age, and all of your parts don't work the way they did when you were eighteen, it's that deep rooted love that carries you, that keeps you playing.

The problem for a stiff like me is that our collective "oldness" tends to cause certain, um, "defensive lapses..."  Or rather a complete and total lack of defense at all.  And summer men's league is a tricky sort of deal, because a lot of the teams are loaded with young college players, or former pros who have summer homes on the Cape...  The teams I play on, well, not so much.   I play on 2 solid teams, with solid players, but we just can't seem to get it together, and it's starting to wear on me.  

So I am hoping that this little experiment, that writing about my woes and occasional successes on the ice, help to bring me even the smallest slice of something that amounts to piece of mind.  Maybe in recounting my games, here in writing, I'll be able to better see what exactly is going wrong with both me, and with my team...