The Start of Another Year
Here we are, back at the Breakfast Club.
As I was coming into the rink from the parking lot, my fellow BC-er commented that boy it was hard to get up this morning. For him, he was coming all the way from Ann Arbor, so the alarm clock jarred him awake at 4:30am. Me? I’m only coming from the Milford area, so I snored away until being rudely awoken by that stupid buzz-buzz-buzz at 5am.
But, come we did, and we will, because hockey is worth it.
Think about it. What else do you have going on in your life that you voluntarily get up at o’dark thirty in the morning, eh?
If any of you are runners, I must say for the record that you are nuts to go running at o’dark thirty in the morning. Everybody thinks us hockey players are nut cases, but, uh, hullloo, I am skating with enough body armor to stop a bullet, in a building, where the only other thing that could run into me is another idiot who maybe outweighs me by 40-100 pounds. You runners? You are nuts to be sharing the road with a bunch of half-sleeping zombies who are texting while driving while also trying to drink their coffee, all the while they are driving a vehicle that outweighs you by a factor of two or three hundred-to-one. So, tell me again, who exactly is whacko between the hockey player and the runner? Yeah, just as I thought. Case closed…
As usual, I wasn’t able to get on the ice until after Lyle had already started the warm-up drills. Scott must have been feeling a little off today, because he didn’t razz me about “here comes the second shift…” Joe, on the other hand, reminded me that I owe the Zamboni driver an apology for denting his ice at my daughter’s game this past Sunday.
Speaking of being off, where were our goalies, Ronnie and Bob? I got to the rink at 5:45am expecting to see Ronnie smiling away while the over-eager beavers shot on him. Apparently the rink opens at 5:15am, and apparently there are some among you who actually get to the rink early enough to spend a good ten to thirty minutes of “free” time skating around and practicing your shots. So I have grown accustomed to having Ronnie be the first person I see when I get to the rink. Imagine my dismay when not only was the net empty, but there weren’t any early-risers skating around. I had to do a double-take. Yup, it’s 5:45am, and while I was actually a bit earlier getting to the rink than my usual 05:59:59, I could have swore that there were usually a good handful of guys who get there early enough to make me feel like I am really as late as I usually am.
So if I got to the rink at 5:45am, why did I still manage to not get out on the ice for the start of warm-ups at 6am? I can’t blame it on Sara. Yeah, she was there, and us chicks did our usual chit-chat thing. But, it’s not like we need more than about seven minutes to get dressed so I can’t blame it on the fact that I hadn’t seen Sara in weeks and we were chit-chatting. So what exactly was my excuse then, huh? I bought a new stick on Sunday, and hadn’t yet taken the time to tape it. So I spent time, apparently too much time, taping it up to hit the ice.
Ah, yes… new season, new stick, and same ol’ friends. Life is good!
If you have a friend who forgot to sign-up in time for the start of the season, it’s still not too late. Drag him (or her) along. Heck, Tom and Richard didn’t sign up until this past Sunday. I should know, I was at the front counter when they were signing up, and I gave them a hard time and told them I’d be looking for them on Wednesday morning. You know, “I’ll be lookin’ for you,” spoken in a Robert DiNiro accent from “Meet the Fockers”, two fingers waving from your eyes toward your victim.
Which brings me to the real topic of this blog, that being what were the victims subjected to during today’s practice? The only thing that was victimized was my pride. As usual. Lyle and Scott and Joe do their level best to try to get us out of our comfort zones and into a higher performance zone. Sometimes we’re just zoned, though. We worked on jumping and balance, stickhandling, deeking, shooting, passing.. whew, yeah, I did indeed work up a sweat this morning. I could say more, but I’ve already said quite a bit even if it probably wasn’t about what you were hoping to read. That’s too bad for you, eh? If you don’t like what I write, then why don’cha pick up your keyboard and give it a try at authoring a blog posting or two yourself? Kirk says his dance ticket is too crowded to fit me in until after Thanksgiving. So how about you, Todd? Or maybe someone else? Come on, boys, you need to represent your half of the species. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck listening to me yammer all season long.
Until we meet again, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
As I was coming into the rink from the parking lot, my fellow BC-er commented that boy it was hard to get up this morning. For him, he was coming all the way from Ann Arbor, so the alarm clock jarred him awake at 4:30am. Me? I’m only coming from the Milford area, so I snored away until being rudely awoken by that stupid buzz-buzz-buzz at 5am.
But, come we did, and we will, because hockey is worth it.
Think about it. What else do you have going on in your life that you voluntarily get up at o’dark thirty in the morning, eh?
If any of you are runners, I must say for the record that you are nuts to go running at o’dark thirty in the morning. Everybody thinks us hockey players are nut cases, but, uh, hullloo, I am skating with enough body armor to stop a bullet, in a building, where the only other thing that could run into me is another idiot who maybe outweighs me by 40-100 pounds. You runners? You are nuts to be sharing the road with a bunch of half-sleeping zombies who are texting while driving while also trying to drink their coffee, all the while they are driving a vehicle that outweighs you by a factor of two or three hundred-to-one. So, tell me again, who exactly is whacko between the hockey player and the runner? Yeah, just as I thought. Case closed…
As usual, I wasn’t able to get on the ice until after Lyle had already started the warm-up drills. Scott must have been feeling a little off today, because he didn’t razz me about “here comes the second shift…” Joe, on the other hand, reminded me that I owe the Zamboni driver an apology for denting his ice at my daughter’s game this past Sunday.
Speaking of being off, where were our goalies, Ronnie and Bob? I got to the rink at 5:45am expecting to see Ronnie smiling away while the over-eager beavers shot on him. Apparently the rink opens at 5:15am, and apparently there are some among you who actually get to the rink early enough to spend a good ten to thirty minutes of “free” time skating around and practicing your shots. So I have grown accustomed to having Ronnie be the first person I see when I get to the rink. Imagine my dismay when not only was the net empty, but there weren’t any early-risers skating around. I had to do a double-take. Yup, it’s 5:45am, and while I was actually a bit earlier getting to the rink than my usual 05:59:59, I could have swore that there were usually a good handful of guys who get there early enough to make me feel like I am really as late as I usually am.
So if I got to the rink at 5:45am, why did I still manage to not get out on the ice for the start of warm-ups at 6am? I can’t blame it on Sara. Yeah, she was there, and us chicks did our usual chit-chat thing. But, it’s not like we need more than about seven minutes to get dressed so I can’t blame it on the fact that I hadn’t seen Sara in weeks and we were chit-chatting. So what exactly was my excuse then, huh? I bought a new stick on Sunday, and hadn’t yet taken the time to tape it. So I spent time, apparently too much time, taping it up to hit the ice.
Ah, yes… new season, new stick, and same ol’ friends. Life is good!
If you have a friend who forgot to sign-up in time for the start of the season, it’s still not too late. Drag him (or her) along. Heck, Tom and Richard didn’t sign up until this past Sunday. I should know, I was at the front counter when they were signing up, and I gave them a hard time and told them I’d be looking for them on Wednesday morning. You know, “I’ll be lookin’ for you,” spoken in a Robert DiNiro accent from “Meet the Fockers”, two fingers waving from your eyes toward your victim.
Which brings me to the real topic of this blog, that being what were the victims subjected to during today’s practice? The only thing that was victimized was my pride. As usual. Lyle and Scott and Joe do their level best to try to get us out of our comfort zones and into a higher performance zone. Sometimes we’re just zoned, though. We worked on jumping and balance, stickhandling, deeking, shooting, passing.. whew, yeah, I did indeed work up a sweat this morning. I could say more, but I’ve already said quite a bit even if it probably wasn’t about what you were hoping to read. That’s too bad for you, eh? If you don’t like what I write, then why don’cha pick up your keyboard and give it a try at authoring a blog posting or two yourself? Kirk says his dance ticket is too crowded to fit me in until after Thanksgiving. So how about you, Todd? Or maybe someone else? Come on, boys, you need to represent your half of the species. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck listening to me yammer all season long.
Until we meet again, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
posted by Suburban Hockey @ 4:25 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home