Breakfast Club: Summer Session Week #6

Lyle! I thought you were my one and only! Come to find out, though, when you're not around, Joe seems to think it falls to him to keep me humble. Scott, too. What do you guys do? Draw straws before each practice, to see who gets to run the drills, who gets to keep Slenzak in line, and who buys the coffee? Please don't tell me I'm the short straw...

Free hockey alert! Free hockey alert! If any of you boys can bear the thought of even more chicks on ice, then keep reading. If you can't, then I'll let you know when it's safe to start reading again... On Sunday September 7th 6:30-7:30pm, there will be a free "moms and daughters" ice hockey clinic at Suburban Farmington for any and all females who have wanted to give hockey a try but who thought she couldn't do it, or she didn't have the equipment, or whatever other reason or excuse might have been holding her back. This is for kids and adults, so long as you're not a boy. The rink will suit you up with everything you need, including skates, helmets and sticks. Visit hockeymoms.org, or call Geoff Bennetts at 248-888-1400 for more details.

OK, it's safe to start reading again...

I missed my usual Wednesday class due to a work meeting (note to self: remind all those mere mortals, again, about where my true priorities lie). Lucky for them, I was able to forego immediately tendering my resignation, because I went to the Thursday class instead. And lucky for me, I still have that day job, because I have yet to be able to buy me a wrist shot.

Ah, but I digress...

We warmed up the goalies with our three lane drill. Joe wasn't content to see us lose the puck on open ice straight-aways, however, so he added a little blue-line-and-up S-turn into the mix to get us in the right frame of mind. That being, you rarely if ever get an open ice straight-away in a game, so why should you practice them? Hmmm, good question. Too bad it's too early in the morning for me to fully grasp those kinds of ironies. I'm just grasping at straws at that time of day. Or, to be more precise, reaching for the water bottle even though I hear you should have been skating much much more harder than I did before you can deserve to get a drink of water.

Splitting into groups, we did some transitions and some game situations. It's all a little complicated to try to describe here, but I'll try my best. For the game situations, we first ran 3-0's and then 3-on-1's in the half ice zone. The goal was, well, to score a goal, silly! This drill is where I was politely reminded to (ahem) shoot the flipping puck, woman! It would seem that it is apparently best to shoot when you are wide open and unopposed, than to look for a team mate to pass to in the hopes that he will be as well-positioned as you for your otherwise freebie shot. Go figure! Life is just full of teachable moments.

Transitioning to transitions, Joe seemed to think it was important to be able to manuever transitions from front to back to side to up to down to left and right and all kinds of any which ways, all the while keeping the puck under control. OK, OK, you've got me there, Joe. I will grudgingly concede that those skills may occassionally come in handy in a game. But did I mention that it's early in the morning? I hardly think any ankle-bender that I'd be matched against could bust a move like that on me at this time of day. Oh? What's that? Ooh, got me again there, Joe. Yeah, I guess it would be nice if I was BustaMoves instead of the other guy.

We ended it all with a little clothing-optional scrimmage. Oops, sorry, I guess it wasn't yet safe to keep reading after all. Now it's safe. All you boys who don't think girls belong on the ice, you can start reading again now because I'm done for this week.

So until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Tale of an Ironman: This Summer's Off-Ice Adventure

Bob Finger is one of the Breakfast Club goaltenders. He recently competed in his fourth Ironman competition in July. While the BC offers a challenge on the ice, Finger shares his experience of this summer's off-ice adventure: Lake Placid Ironman 2008.

Lake Placid Ironman 2008

Lake Placid is my fourth Ironman, and with the notable exception of a mechanical failure on the bike in Wisconsin , I’ve finished every time. So it’s curious that I felt the pressure of this attempt more than any previous race.

There are many reasons to be intimidated of Ironman USA (Lake Placid), from the long narrow swim course that seems to draw athletes in towards the buoy line, to the punishing twelve mile climb on each loop of the bike, and finally finishing with a run course that includes a steep (200’ of elevation) climb at the twelve and twenty four mile markers.

But, in spite of all that, the course is not outside of my athletic ability, at least as an age group finisher. As race day approached, I had radical swings in confidence levels that went from believing I would set my personal record to a spectacular failure on the first loop of the bike.

In 2007, I finished the Wisconsin Ironman in 15:10:42, so I decided to make 15 hours my goal. I honestly didn’t know if I could do it or not. The hilly course favors lighter athletes and at 210 pounds I am definitely not “lighter.”

It seems incomplete to gloss over how much fun we had hanging around Lake Placid in the days before the race, but it is equally impossible to tell about the myriad of details that go into those days. I’ll just say that we spent several days laughing and enjoying ourselves in between moments of abject terror when thoughts of the race suddenly interjected themselves into our consciousness.

I had my daughter with me, and my cousin and her husband showed up Saturday afternoon. Matt’s sister’s bought shirts that said IronMatt on them, and screamed IRONMAN! every time either of us approached. It was a huge amount of fun, and made me laugh every time.

Even with all of the fun, the building intensity of the race could not be ignored. There was a long and difficult course in front of us, and the anticipation could be seen on the faces of every athlete in Lake Placid . I was no exception to this rule.

Pre-Race Morning

Matt and I spent a few minutes with Sabine, and then she went off to finish her own pre-race rituals. There are plenty of last minute things to do, including body marking, pumping the bike tires, dropping off the special needs bags and finally climbing into the wetsuits.

We did all of this on autopilot, making small jokes and last minute “nervous stomach” runs to the porta-johns. Then, finally it was time to walk down to the water to await the starting cannon.

Before we could even get to the lake, the cannon fired!

BOOM!

The race had started without us! Matt and I exchanged panicked looks and then laughed. That was the start for the Pro race, and we had 10 minutes before our race would start.




The Swim (2.4 Miles)

I waded out into the water, gave one last “terrorist fist bump” to Matt before swimming out to find my starting position. Normally I ask the people around me how fast they expect to swim. If I am surrounded by people who swim an hour and five minutes, and I swim an hour thirty then I know to move back a bit. The faster swimmers won’t wait for me, so if I don’t want to get run over I had better start behind them.

This race was different, though, because the faster swimmers were all lined up along the starting line and the slower swimmers lined up on the beach. There were more than fifty yards between them, with only me and one other guy floating in the middle.

I looked at the other guy and said “Aren’t they going to move up?”

"I am from France ! Third time! Good Luck!” he replied in his thick accent.

I laughed and gave him the thumbs up, then moved up to the starting line. It would be half a lap before the people on the beach could catch up, even if they were ten minutes faster than me. I had saved 2 minutes even before the race started!

An interesting thing about the swim in Lake Placid is that there is a yellow nylon rope ten feet below the surface linking the buoys. Whatever it’s intended function, it serves the same purpose as the line on the bottom of a swimming pool. You don’t need to navigate, just swim the line.

Unfortunately, everyone wants to swim the line and there is just no way for twenty five hundred people to swim there. It’s a meat grinder, and if you swim the line you are going to take a beating.

I moved off the line and got ready to start the race.

BOOM!


This time, the cannon was for me and I started out with a lot of power in my stroke. I was directly behind some very fast swimmers, and I wanted to take advantage of the draft for as long as I could hold on.

I was really taking a pounding, but I could feel the speed through the water. If I could stay here for a while, I’d have a pretty good swim. Then I looked down and saw a yellow line under me. Good God, I’m swimming the wire. A hand landed on my legs and shoved them down. I pulled with my arms and kicked harder. An elbow struck my head. I ignored it and focused on the wire.

In addition to easy navigation, the wire is the shortest way to complete the swim. I may be getting beat up, but at least I wouldn’t be swimming any extra distance. There was no way for me to get off the wire, since swimmers were all around me. Like it or not this is where I would be for at least the first lap.

I wasn’t getting beaten too badly but I did have a few times where I got run over. I also ran over a few people, but in all I felt I was having a pretty good swim. The wire wasn’t so bad.

At the end of the first loop we ran out on to the beach and across the timing mat and the guy next to me said “I want to apologize. I have been beating the crap out of you for thirty minutes”

“Have I been giving as good as I am getting?”

“Yeah.”

“No worries, lets do it again.”

With that, we dove back into the water and made a bee line for the wire. The second loop was more of the same and I came out of the water with a personal record of 1:21:44. Ten minutes faster than my Wisconsin time! It was shaping up to be a great race!

The Bike (112 Miles)


I ran through the crowds pumping my fists in the air, I’d already broken one record and was excited to get going on the next event. I saw our superfan families wearing their silver wigs and yelled “PR SWIM!” as I ran past (they heard “blahblahswim!” but cheered anyway).

For the first time, I realized that it was raining. It wasn’t a light drizzle, but a full downpour. I though that it was good that it was pouring rain, because rain this hard wouldn’t last very long.

As it turned out it didn’t rain for long... only fifteen hours.

I grabbed my bike and got started on the ride. In the first several miles of the race, we climb from 1,600 feet to 2,202 feet. The grade isn’t super steep, but it seems to go on forever. I pushed hard on the pedals until I realized that my legs were starting to burn. Oops, it’s not a good idea to burn on the first 10 miles of a 112 mile ride. I backed off the power a little and got into a lower gear. I was able to spin out the hill but my legs were still pumped.

The downhill to Keene is amazing. In dry conditions I would have been doing sixty miles an hour, but in torrential rain I didn’t dare. (Matt dared, he zinged through the section at full speed... woah). I grabbed the back brake and continued to accelerate. Then I grabbed the front brake too, and still continued to speed up.

Finally I squeezed hard on both handles and brought the speed down to a fast but comfortable pace. I sailed downhill for five or ten minutes. My legs recovered nicely, and my heart rate came down to a resting rate. If it wasn’t for the rain pelting my face it would have been a very pleasant section. I tipped my head down to take the rain on the helmet instead of directly in the face and zoomed down the hill.

I grabbed a garbage bag from an aid station to use as a raincoat. It was going to be a long day and I didn’t want to be cold.

The next section wasn’t too difficult but I was careful to leave some strength in reserve. At the end of the loop there would be a twelve mile long climb that went from 800 feet of elevation to 2000 feet of elevation. Of course, it would also be at the end of the second loop. I needed to save something for that climb.

On the out-and-back section of the course I could see how many athletes were in front of me. It looked like half the field, and I added some power to the pedals. Given my running, I knew that if I was going to improve my position in the race, it would have to be on the bike.

I cheered to Matt as we passed and yelled “Go Fast!” Then I realized that “Go IronMatt” would have been better. Oh well, maybe when they make the movie I’ll tell them to change that bit of history.

The next few miles were great. I was passing people two at a time and my legs felt strong. Then I made the turn past our campsite. This was the beginning of the long hill and it was time to use the reserve energy.

I don’t want to pretend that a twelve mile, 1200 foot climb is easy, but when I got to the top I was surprised that it wasn’t as bad as I had predicted. I was at the end of the first loop and I hadn’t blown up. The thought inspired me.

As I sailed through Lake Placid , waving to our superfan’s in silver wigs, I decided that the first loop didn’t hurt too bad. That was a bit of a problem, since every section of an Ironman is supposed to hurt. I didn’t push hard enough to hurt, so I hadn’t gone as fast as I could have. I could go faster and I decided do exactly that on the second loop.

The second loop was a more difficult version of the first. I used more power and higher gears, and passed a lot of people on the hills. The second time, the twelve mile climb hurt. It was just what I had planned to do, and I knew that I had done well on the bike.

I finished with a 7:07:00 at an average of 15.7 miles per hour. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was ten minutes faster than Wisconsin . I was still on track for the fifteen hour finish time.

The Marathon (26.2 Miles)


I grabbed my running shoes and trotted out of the transition area, and as I did I tossed the plastic bag I had been wearing into the garbage. The rain was finally starting to lighten up and I hoped I would see the sun.

I didn’t.

The rain never stopped, and by the second aid station I was wearing another plastic bag which I wore for the rest of the race. I used my typical run-walk-run style, and I wasn’t feeling great. The run course is very hilly and my feet had been soaking wet for eight hours. I could already feel blisters beginning to form.

I saw Sabine on the end of her first loop, and Matt a few miles behind her. We shouted encouragement to each other and kept going.

At some point, a guy named Joe caught up with me. He was doing his first Ironman, and was a much faster runner than me. We started playing a game where he would pick a point and then blast off towards it at an eight minute per mile pace. I would run my typical eleven minute pace. He would stop running at whatever landmark we picked, and I would keep running until I caught up to him.

It was miserable but effective. Using him as a pace setter forced me to push myself and we were making progress. We used this game for miles and miles.

Eventually, late in the second loop, I was no longer able to keep up with Joe, and waved him on. He waved back and kept running.

Now, my legs were cramped and my feet blistered. I was feeling the chill of the rain even inside the garbage bag rain coat and every step hurt. It was hurting like hell, and in a strange way it was comforting. I knew I was going as fast as I possibly could, and that’s all anyone can do.

I came across a runner who was shivering and walking at a snails pace. I asked him if he was OK, and he said “I’m hypothermic. I have to get out of the race”

I gave him my plastic bag in spite of his protests and told him to finish. He was only a few miles from the end, and had hours to get there. I hope he did.

At the next aid station I got another bag, and the volunteers were handing out space blankets. I stuck with what had been working, and wore the bag for the rest of the race. Water was dripping off my hat and I started matching my pace to the pace of the droplets. Anything to take my mind off my legs.

As I got to the final hill on the course, I checked my watch. It was 9:20pm and I had a bit more than a mile to run. I could see that I would make my fifteen hour goal, but another thought snuck into my head. If I could do a fifteen minute pace for one last mile, I could finish at 14:45.

A fifteen minute mile isn’t exactly a record breaking pace. In fact it’s hardly a fast walk. But most of the way was uphill, and I was out of gas. The last mile may as well have been a hundred miles.

Still, the allure of a 14:45 finish was strong and I reminded myself that it’s supposed to hurt like hell. That part, at least, I had gotten right.

I picked up the pace, nearly out pacing the geriatric couple who were making their way up the sidelines. The lady looked at me and waved a clapping hand noise maker and said “good job.”

I didn’t have the energy to thank her.

The last mile took forever, but little encouragements cropped up. I passed Joe on the other side of the turnaround and slapped his hand as we passed. The sounds of the finish line cheers started to reach my ears and I could feel how close I was. I glanced at my watch every twenty minutes only to discover that twenty seconds had passed. I tossed the plastic bag at the last aid station, and forced myself on.

In the last stretch, my daughter was standing at the chute waiting to run with me across the finish line. She reached out to my hand, and I told her to run. She took off running, dragging me along for the last fifty yards. I hadn’t run this fast in fifteen miles.

Finally, we crossed the finish line. With six seconds remaining I did what was, for me, the impossible. I set my personal record on the run and finished at 14:45:54!

Breakfast Club Summer Week Two-ish

It might be week #2 for most of you, but it was week #1 for me. Rumor has it that Gary showed up last week? Hmmm... didn't see him this morning, though. Given that I was AWOL last week, however, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for this week.

Speaking of attendance roll call, it was a veritable chickfest, with a whole four token females on the ice. Martha will be shifting between Wednesdays and Thursdays, so I should be able to get a spy report when I see her at soccer on Sundays if we end up on different mornings. So, boys, stay on your best behavior :)

Not that anyone behaves poorly. Far from it. Hockey players are good people! We are "there" for each other. Like Geoff, for example. Lyle couldn't be there this morning, so Geoff jumped up and filled in. He was even there before Joe and Scott! And doggone, is Geoff peppy. It's hard to drag around the ice, all hang dog and sleep deprived, when Geoff is running the show. "Pep" and enthusiasm were helpful today, seeing as we spent quite a bit of time humbling ourselves with..spinning in circles. Yup. You read that right. "Help, Lyle, I'm dizzy!" "Laura, you were dizzy when you got here, and we already knew that." Ah, but I'm leaving some things out.

We started with some stationary warm up puck dribbling and draws. Then warmed it up a bit more by skating laps with tight turns to the boards and a corresponding change of direction on the whistles. Head's up!

There's only an hour to work with in the summer, so we quickly split into three groups. One group, led by the ever sanguine Scott, was focusing on stride technique. Balance becomes all that more critical when you've got your stick over your shoulders and your hands on your stick like a ox yoke. Can you say "face plant"? Luckily, we were all masters of grace, and our faces lived to see another day. And, no, skating with the puck should not mean you devolve into a choppy upright robot. Your stride should stay low and balanced even when you're trying to herd that silly little puck around.

Another group was in the care of Goeff, focusing on passing. Stationary passes on your fore and backhands. Focusing on eliminating the "thwack". If it's a thwacky pass, then you're teeing up instead of playing hockey, and your pass most likely won't go where or how you wanted it. If it's a thwacky receive, then chances are the puck is hopping over you stick. Catch and release, always moving your stick with the direction of the flow. Ever the spark plug, Geoff was jumping into the mix and working with random players. Passing on the move, give and go, you name it, it's all still passing and you need to keep that catch and release smooth!

The third group was in the humble care of Papa Bear, a.k.a. Joe. Here, was where all that twirling came back with a vengence. Surprise, surprise, it's a rare game situation where you're able to skate end-to-end without having to evade something while you're trying to hang onto the puck. Go figure! So Joe had us working on a variety of turns and moves, all the while keeping that puck firmly captured against our stick blade. Pull it back with you, then evade with a 270 to your backhand...or a 450 to your forehand. And, oh yeah, keep your head up, if you're serious about this, because if you're the defender and you're trying to set up your breakout, seeing where the backcheckers and your teammates are is often a useful skill.

And just because we could, we finished off with a lively pair of half-ice scrimmages. No goalies? No problem. It's only a goal if you get the post or crossbar. A change of possession necessitates a pass out to the coach and back in. Four on four, or five on five, depending on the depth of the pool. Everyone pulled at least one doubled-shift when the change-ups ensued. Guaranteeing plenty of smiles, and another successful morning of breakfast clubbing.

Hurry back, Lyle, and in the meantime we'll keep our heads up and our eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Countdown to Summer Clubbing

T-minus one week, and I'm ready. Are you? Of course, I am speaking of the start of the summer session of the Breakfast Club. Alyson knows the registration details, but the last I had heard there were spots for either Wednesday or Thursday mornings, starting next week and running through August. While you are indeed very much late to sign up, your money is still good around these parts, and I'm sure we could all skooch-over and make room for you at the grown-up table :)

It seems like it's been ages since I've seen you. How have you been? Gosh, there's so much to catch up on.

My spring "men's league" team season has waned to summer. I'm still an Iceman, still playing Fridays and Sundays in Troy. Soccer (outdoor) season started June 1st (soccer is women-only, in case you were wondering). The Centurions' home fields are in Farmington. We just finished a weekend tournament in Canton.

Can you believe I'm planning for fall/winter women's travel hockey?? Yeah, OK, actually that is not so surprising, huh? Anyway, the Stingrays will be starting their ninth year (my third with the team), and we're looking for a new coach. Our past coach is moving to Colorado. No, Shannon did not need to move across the country to escape us... We have our home ice at 8:30pm on Mondays at U-M Dearborn. Come on! Now's your chance! When else do you get to boss around 16 women?? If you're interested, or if you think you know someone who works in or near "Ford country" who'd be interested, please drop me a line at stingrays@campslenzak.com.

Well, that's about all the time we have for catching up right now. I'll see you soon, right? I will miss the first week of B.C. due to a poorly timed family vacation (gotta talk to those folks, they really need to work harder at appreciating where my priorities truly lay...)

Breakfast Club Spring Ending Session

Uhh! No way! Say it ain't so!

This was the last week of spring breakfast club??! It snuck up way too quickly. Maybe because Easter was so early this year, maybe because spring started out hot but then cooled back toward March weather when it was May, or maybe it's because I just can't count that well.

Either way, it's been eight weeks, come and gone. And now what am I going to do until the summer session starts in July?

Well, for starters, I'm going to throw down the gauntlet and try to embarrass Kirk and Gary and Todd into signing up for the next session while the May 31st discount is still available. Skate with me, AND save 10%. What more could you want?

What more could you want, versus what more do you need?

Well, for starters, I need to apologize to one of the other youth coaches. I let something simmer and fester, and then managed to really goof things up. Ugh, been kicking myself for a week over it...

And then there's want. As in I want to get better. Each week, each skate, each time on the bench. Maybe measured in inches instead of miles, but better nonetheless. Today's one-on-one lane drill was a good example. Control that defensive gap, and make the challenge at the blue line. Even with my stick upside down, I managed a few poke checks that made me smile. A smug little "yeah for me" that keeps you coming back.

We did a lot of one-on-one, two on's, mix and match. There are 10 skaters and two goalies in any given game, but it's really a series of one-on's and two-on's that ebb and flow. So our warm-up drill, two skaters up around the center circle and back at the net, left and right lane...it's about pace and positioning and keeping your feet moving so the goalie isn't quite sure when that puck is releasing. And the one-on-one's, again, are about pacing and using speed changes to your advantage. How about those two-on-one's? Now you've got options and choices. No half-way's allowed, right? Go big or stay home, as the saying goes. If you're on the attack with the odd-man advantage, how are you going to use that? If you're defending, how are you going to neutralize?

Moving up in numbers but not necessarily complexity, we did some 3-on-2's, kind of like the second part of a breakout drill. Just because it's 3-on-2, though, don't forget that all you really have is one set of one-on's and a second set of two-on's. If your defensive partner is challenging the puck carrier, you've got the make sure there isn't any good out for the puck carrier to pass to one of the other two forwards. If you are the third forward in, you need to see where the challenges are being set, so that you are the option for your partners and so that you are presenting a distraction for the defense and the goalie.

No morning is complete without a little scrimmage. Always fun, and always a good chance to try to put into action the things that Lyle and Scott tried drilling into our noggins. It actually looks like hockey out there!

Go Wings!

See you in July, and in the meantime keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Spring Hockey II

A little light on the turnout today. But not to worry - Joe, Scott and Lyle kept us quite busy.

First, some deking. Find a partner, one defends while your teammate practices drawing to the forehand, drawing to the backhand, passing it under your stick, whatever it takes to get it past the defender...which shouldn't have been that hard, especially since the defender's stick was upside down..and they were standing still.

Yep, shouldn't have been too hard.

Next, some passing. Find a partner, spread out cross ice, line up facing shoulder to shoulder and pass on your forehand. Hard. Tape to tape. Now, open up and face your partner. Same thing. Now, one-timers. Now, do it while traveling backwards and forewards, always facing your teammate.

Doggoned if we weren't beat and sweating...just from passing!

Moving on, we broke into three groups.

One was with Scott, working on stationary one-timer shots from the left, right and center key. If your body isn't in the right position to start with, how exactly is it that you think yor one-timer will be that smooth catch, load, release that it needs to be?

The middle group, with Lyle, was working on passing around the circle. Just like tightening lugnuts, the puck was passed around the circle in a star pattern. One puck. Then two at a time. Then three. Four. All the way up to where everyone's passing and receiving at the same time. Heads up! Pass to where they need it, or else the whole rotation falls apart.

Meanwhile, Joe had the other end working on shooting on the move. Skate eight's around the face-off circles, catch the pass as you're coming around the top and release all in one fluid motion. Sometimes you're catching where you're already in good positon, but the other half of that eight you'll be catching on your fade. And passers: send it crisp and to where the skater is going to need to be. Timing and accuracy matter.

All of that sounds so easy. Yeah, easy...not.

Great skate, though, despite my lingering inadequacies. I haven't pulled that kind of sweat in a while.

As if all of that didn't leave us sweaty enough (yeah, Tom, it's barely 7 am, and shhhheee-ooot, we've got another half hour to go), we moved on to some lane skating. Up, accelerate around the center circle and full speed to the other end. In batches of three. The first hundred or so rounds, we avoided bowling for teammates. But as the gas tanks started hitting vapors, the edges weren't as solid around those accelerating turns. Lyle said wiping out was good, though, because it meant you were pushing out of your comfort zone. But then he had a Fruedian slip, and let us know that falling was just plain amusing, too. Yeah, yeah, I'm here to learn and also to dish up your weekly fix of entertaining moments. Win-win all the way around, eh Lyle?

Let's put a bow on this day by finishing with some zone games. Greens trying to score westbound, yellows shooting eastbound. If you were in the west and east ends, you were either trying to score or trying to prevent it. The middle zoners were the transition team, snagging that which was intentionally or accidentally cleared, and sending it back into the appropriate scoring zone for their color team. Three pucks in play at all times. Every two to three minutes or so (or, in Lyle time, every 45-60 seconds) rotate zones.

Besides being Kirkless, my morning was a success. I made sure to dish sufficient portions of sarcasm upon Lyle, enough so that he hopefully didn't feel deprived by Kirk's lack of attendance. It's an obligation that I take seriously.

Keep your head up, and your eyes on the goal.

Spring Hockey

Ah, yes, spring hockey. You would think it'd be easier getting up, seeing as the sun is rising earlier than when we're leaving the rink. But, the sun is also setting later, and so we're doing things like yard work after dinner and going to bed more tired than we did in the winter. And, of course, those 10 p.m. starts for the playoff games certainly aren't helping to make it easy to get to hockey in the morning.

But here we are ... even if we're a bit sore from raking, and even if we're sleep-deprived from watching the game last night. I was out of town for two weeks, one for vacation, and another for unforeseen scheduling conflicts. So, boy, was I surprised to such a bright spring crowd this morning. It looked like a sea of jonquils! All of that bright yellow and grass green! Talk about spring hockey. Definitely spring colors, and it largely appeared to be a bunch of hockey players, so put them together and you've got your spring hockey.

I saw some new faces this morning. Welcome, boys. We're all here to learn, and it's good to see some new afficiandos of this great sport. Don't feel too intimidated; you'll be amazed at what you look like in just a few months. Commiting to clinics is the fastest way to rapidly improve both your skills and your confidence. Lyle and Scott are great (no they didn't pay me to say that) and your fellow clubbers are the salt of the earth. We had some interesting issues this morning. Kirk broke a blade on his skate. Clean in half. You'd think he would have been "out" for the rest of the day, huh? Nope, no such luck you slacker! The rink fixed Kirk up with a rental skate, and five minutes later he was back in the mix. Me, on the other hand, I felt out of the mix this morning. Not due to anyone excluding me, not at all. More due to me not really having my brain fully engaged. Like in the warm-up drill -- skate with the puck in a "S" path from one end to the other, shoot on the goalie. Should have been pretty easy. So what was the deal with losing the puck, huh? Then some one-on-ones down the ice. The way we did it this week wasn't so much for honing defensive tactics, though. Lyle wanted the puck carriers to get confidence in their deking. Stick deking and body deking. Next, some skating and passing. Pass it up to center ice, and while the center group passes the puck around within the circle, the two skaters go up and then back. Receive the pass, crash the net, and if your first shot doesn't score then your trailing partner should be looking to capitalize on the rebound. The goalies, of course, were focusing on not giving up any rebounds. And let's not forget "bowling for teammates", a.k.a. skating in circles in groups of three. This is where I really caused chaos. Sorry! I hope you're not too bruised-up!

Some parting shots? Well, I was going to say something about Jason's goalie cut jersey, making him look like a parachuter with one of those flying squirrel suits. But I've decided not to say anything after all. Same thing about Kirk's loaner skate, being in those Batman colors of black and red. But again I've decided not. Because heaven knows, Kirk might actually dust off that keyboard and hunt-and-peck another column one of these days, and then I'll be the one getting roasted online. So keep your head up and your eyes on the goal!