Up for air, finally

I drive home from hockey each night I play, thinking, "Oooh! I should write about this (or that) (or the other thing) in my blog!"

And then I realize, no, I don't have time. I have to get my Wednesday story at Hockey Wilderness done. I have to get my Sunday story at Backhand Shelf started. I have to get interview notes ready for my InGoal magazine pieces on Matt Hackett and Bob Mason.

And by the end of even thinking about all that, I'm too tired to consider writing for "fun" (though, I'm not gonna lie, they're all pretty fun... just less self-indulgent).

But the InGoal stories have been turned in (2 days early, which is more scary than a relief... what have I missed?) and I'm allowing myself a day to catch my breath from having finished that before I start the other two.

Considering it was, like, November when I last posted, I should probably be ashamed, but in that time, I've had a huge work deadline, accepted an offer on our house that was then reneged on at the last second by the buyer, done all the repairs from their inspection anyway, found another buyer, dealt with her insane agent for a couple of weeks, made the repairs THEY wanted, and finally closed on that house.

Oh yeah, and did that Christmas thing. I've never been more grateful that my family does just little stocking stuffer type gifts. I got my shopping done in about 3 hours at Target and Walgreens, or online.

So really, today is the first day I'm coming up for air and don't have anything but the usual suspects weighing on me. Naturally, the dog picks today to need to go out at 4:30 in the morning, but that gives me a spot of time to write here, so it's okay.

My hockey playing was pretty light in December, not only because my Monday group only played the first two weeks, but because I threw my back out the first weekend of the month and it was so bad, I missed two weeks of women's league because of it.

But I played well in my return to my full-time playing schedule (Monday and Tuesday nights) last week. So well, in fact, that I'm still a little annoyed that one of my defensemen who isn't used to playing with goalies of my "caliber" (aka make so few awesome glove saves that I stop and cele all of them) and he didn't properly acknowledge how cool my saves were.

The image of his "yeah yeah, just give me the puck, numbnuts" demeanor when I... get this... stopped a shot off my blocker and caught it in my glove (!!!!) is burned in my brain. How dare you be so blase? This might have been a one in a lifetime save!

I really think if I only played a couple of times a month, I'd be a much better goalie. I'm just too mellow to work up the "GRR" I need on a twice weekly basis consistently. And I refuse to play angry any more. It's just hockey.

I have a women's league teammate who really cares about the result, and kinda unloads on our team or gets her panties in a bunch if the skaters aren't playing their positions up to her standards. And we all just sit there, kinda stunned at her attitude.

Sure, it's awesome to win, but women's league is such a social affair. I think 99% of the girls feel like, if you had fun, burned calories, and did your best, then it was a great night at women's league. Pretty much in that order, too. As I say, if you're not smiling your way through women's league, you're doing it wrong.

Hell, if you're not smiling your way through any kind of rec hockey, you (or someone around you being a douchebag) is doing it wrong. So much other shit in our lives is serious and responsible and "required" and if hockey isn't an outlet to just ride a wave of pure fun and adrenaline for an hour of your week, then I don't know what the point is.

Oh well. There's one in every crowd, I guess.

This week, I'm off Monday because I have no skates. Tomorrow I'll get them back at women's league for our last regular season game. I have no idea where we are in the standings but it can't be all that great. Apart from the 4-shot shutout, I'd done nothing but lose (though I've missed 3 games) until last week when I had a really legit win. Lots of shots and pulling saves out of my ass. First game I really enjoyed this season, honestly.

But I went ahead and signed up for Harpies Wednesday night since Mr. C is out of town. Now that I have actual TIME in my life again and am not running ragged, I'm excited to get to skate that again.

So, I'm not sure of the deets yet but it sounds like my payment for writing the InGoal magazine piece is a mask paint job from one of our advertisers. I'm pretty settled on some kind of blind squirrel theme.

Like this but with a goalie stick instead of a cane and an outstretched glove with a puck in it instead of a nut. Of course, how to execute that on a 3 dimensional mask is a whole other ball of wax.

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Here's a funny nugget: My BS pieces are pretty much just me being me on whatever hockey topic tickles my fancy, and generally I get good feedback.

But I got my first hater yesterday. And on a piece that was about as serious as I ever plan to get. Everything about the comment is so, like, "I'm doing you a favor by telling you what a fucking idiot you are."

Every Sunday I try to read the articles you post, and every Sunday I never get through it. Most times I would rather scoop my eyes out with a spoon than finish reading the drivel and diatribe you write. Although your heart may be in the right place and the topics you choose may be worthy of being written about, your style is revolting. Good on ya for getting an audience, but I want you to know, I am not part of it.

It's just so earnest! It's not like, "Eh, this is shit. Fuck off with your puck bunny garbage." It's like, "I want to like you because I like the rest of the site, but oh my god, I just DON'T SO SO SO MUCH! PLEASE STOP BEING... YOU.. or I'll be forced to ... NOT READ YOU!"

Your heart's in the right place? Is that supposed to make the whole "revolting" and "rather scoop my eyes out with a spoon" thing better?

Just hilariously out of whack.

There are writers (even Backhand Shelfers!) whose writing I just don't get or get into at all, but obviously someone does or they wouldn't keep getting hired. So I just don't read them. In fact, the act of NOT reading someone is infinitely easier than reading them, so it's actually kind of a relief when I can just say, "Nah, never read that guy" and move on happily with my life to writers I DO like. There are already more of those than I can keep up with.

I like to be liked so I won't lie that it doesn't annoy me, but blessedly, I have a lot of people who seem to genuinely like what I do, so I have to trust that they're not just humoring me. If they are, then I hope Bourney will sack my ass and put everyone out of their misery.

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And on that delightful note, welcome to Monday, suckah!



I've had this song in my head for a week. It makes me want to scoop my ears out with a spoon!!!! Just kidding. I actually like it. But talk about earnest. Gosh. Emo much?

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Oh hey there...

Played against Scott TFCG Monday night and he said he still reads the blog. If you're in his boat, sorry I've been so absentee. (Again.)

Things look to settle down pretty soon, so hopefully I'll be back here more.

Monday's game was kinda messed up though. My ankle has been hurting when I play, so that's been bugging me pretty much since I got back from vacation. It's making some of my movements a little tentative, but bothers me less each week. Fortunately it's been a VERY light month for ice time.

Then I got beamed in the head twice. Once with a point blank wrister. It startled me and kinda pissed me off that he put it on my melon from so close in (I forget these guys don't necessarily have control of their shots). So I shrieked "BITCH!" and then we all started laughing.

It's horrible the stuff that just flies out of my mouth sometimes when I'm playing. Jesus. No filter.

Then I took a snap shot from the circle in the head. That one I felt, in that sort of vague way that a really good helmet still lets you feel a shot to the noggin. Just a dull pressure in the forehead and my jaw hurt, probably from the way the mask distributes the force throughout the whole mask.

It was weird.

Anyway, didn't play great, but salvaged my fragile ego with a couple of sexy glove saves right as they opened the zam door. I made the first one and was thinking, "Dammit, open the zam door so I can finish on a high note!" and then here they came again, with numbers, and I snag it again. Boom. THEN they open the zam door. Sometimes the goalie gods throw me a bone.

Goaltending just hasn't been a high priority lately and I'm probably not preparing or playing with the gusto that I probably should. The writing side of my hockey life is taking a lot of energy. As is work and selling our house and so forth.

I'm also reading this really great hockey porn novella that has me a little distracted. I'm sure you understand, right?

Speaking of hockey porn, I did a little thanksgiving for goalie thighs and other delicious things over at Backhand Shelf today. Check it out.

In other news: I'm developing a soft spot for Tyler Cuma. He's lovely on Twitter. Amazing how 140 characters here and there can really make me like or dislike someone.

Also, had a shutout week before last at women's league. Saw 4 shots, per the score keeper, but I think that was high. Happy for finally getting a win but weird to get one where I feel like we totally could have won if I hadn't even been there.

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Check yourself, Ryan Miller

So I've watched Lucic's hit on Miller a few times now and, while I may be angering the goalie gods to say it, I think Miller has as much responsibility here as Lucic. Maybe more. 

Looch has said he was barreling in, looked down at the puck, then looked up and Miller was just RIGHT THERE all of a sudden. His instinct was to put an arm up and protect himself. Watching the video, I sorta believe that.

But for Miller, he saw the whole thing unfold. He saw Lucic on a breakaway, saw him with his head down controlling the puck, saw they were going to collide, and did nothing about it.

Now, I know if I'm aggressively challenging a player who may not see me coming, my instinct is to get low and try to poke check the puck away from them. This generally just sends the other player flying while you, the goalie, are just a ball of well-protected hate there on the ice. Unless they kick you in the head or cut you with a skate blade, you're pretty safe.

But at the very least, you have to brace yourself for impact and Miller had plenty of time to do that, unlike Lucic who had the puck to worry about.

Instead, Miller just stood there like he was in some kind of protective bubble, and then got thrown like a rag doll when the freight train hit. Like Lucic, of all people, was going to say, "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I'm not the type to knock guys ass over tea kettle, so I'll just go around you."

Even if Looch had time to change course, that's not his game. But I don't think he did, so it's a mostly moot point. (And just to be clear, I'm not pro-Lucic here. I don't 100% believe he couldn't have let up and avoided or minimized the collision, but I think as Miller was the one who unequivocally saw this hit coming, he had a responsibility to react intelligently.)

Now, here's the part where I disclaim some bias: I've been pretty irritated with Crunchy lately and feel like he's been acting like a bit of a baby. He seems sorta sour and crankier than usual. Maybe marriage doesn't suit him.

The bottom line is that I think some of the onus is on the goalies to protect themselves. The scenario as I saw it seemed pretty logical and predictable, other than the part where Miller just stood there like a sacred cow and got slaughtered.

Anyway, I hope the goalie gods don't smite me tonight in my women's league game. Also, apologies for not writing here in a long while. My weekly posts at TheScore and SBNation pretty much drain all the writing I have time for right out of me.

If you haven't been keeping up with my Backhand Shelf stuff, here's an archive of all of them so far: http://blogs.thescore.com/nhl/author/msconduct/ Thanks for reading!

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750 words on why I'm speechless

I have lots of words in me, but sometimes I just don't feel like I can adequately express how grateful I am to get to play hockey. Or to just have hockey in my life at all, but playing it seems to create my most heartfelt moments.

But I can try...

I don't know anything in life that would make my heart feel as full as hockey does. There was a time, early in my goaltending career, where I went to the rink nearly in a panic, worried about being judged, misunderstood, talked about behind my back if I didn't play well.

And it wasn't paranoia. It actually went on. I heard I was called lazy, I thought I was better than I was, I was cocky, I wasn't trying.

When really, I was new, never been any kind of athlete ever (learning to play one of the hardest, most unnatural positions in sports), scared, intimidated, while still trying to have some light-hearted fun. I wasn't learning the right things for them at the pace they wanted me to learn them, but as I've come to understand, you just can't push learning curves. It takes the time it takes.

But I spent a lot of time and energy feeling the angst of being misunderstood in the beginning. Maybe it's something I had to go through to get to the happy place I'm at now, but it still eats at me sometimes. I look back with a degree of bitterness that it had to be that way for so long.

Now, however, I may not make everybody happy, but I'm happy. My heart is FULL when I drive home from Sugar Land each week. And my game is better for it. I'm loose, I'm glad to be there (generally), it's a pleasure to go to the rink.

Granted, I've had a lot to learn from a mental perspective since I started playing, and that's part of it, but whatever the case, it's an incredible relief to feel like I belong somewhere. The crush of teammates at my net after wins is, quite possibly, the most rewarding thing ever.

I mean, I play for me. I love to play and I think goalies are super important and I'm pretty cocky out there, feeling like the world revolves around me if the puck is on my half of the ice.  But at the end of the day, all I really want is my team to be happy with me. If I feel like I've got that, then I can sleep at night. The rest of it is just me psyching myself up and doing what I need to do to get in the right state of mind.

Anyway, all this is just to say that our team (which was, I believe, 0-5 or 1-5 to start the season) won the championship last night. I honestly thought we might never win a game at one point, and that was okay, because I liked my teammates, but it's a lot more fun to win. :)

It wasn't my best game, or even close to it, really, but they had a couple of neutral observers there to watch the game and choose an MVP (since our commish was playing in the game)... and well, they chose me. Which is silly. My girls scored 6 goals and we needed all of them. But I saw a few shots, made a few saves, nothing spectacular, and 2 of my goals were a bit crummy.

But still, the recognition was a total shock and much appreciated. I did the whole pageant winner thing of, "Wha? Me? *tear* Really? *skating over* Seriously? Thank you! Am I dreaming?" with hugs from my teammates along the way. Surreal.

I wish I were cool enough to act like I've been there, but I really haven't and I'm not cool, so I'm just going to geek over it for a while longer.

But what really felt the best about it was just being on a team that likes me beyond what I can do for them in the crease. We have fun together and make each other laugh and when it comes down to it, isn't that what rec hockey is about?

There's a lot of people I wish I could just take them by the shoulders and look them in the eyes and say, "Stop judging people and just enjoy playing the game." But it wouldn't be any of my girls. They already get that and that's why I love 'em.

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Tea with Ms. Conduct

This week felt like 3 weeks waiting on "my day" to post on Backhand Shelf, but it's finally here!

I wrote about how, just because I like to look at hockey players asses, that I'm not entirely unserious about hockey. And how there are lots of more gals in the same boat. So get off your damn judgmental high-horses about us, judgey people!

Anyway, here ya go. Please check it out and, hopefully, have a laugh or two:  http://blogs.thescore.com/nhl/2011/10/09/tea-with-ms-conduct-the-bunny-conundrum/

One of the awesome things about this gig is that they have a Getty subscription, so I did a search on "hockey goalie stretching" and got 10 pages of goalie porn. Holy hell.

So you can pretty well count on goalie porn pretty much every week. Yay!

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Backhand Shelf

It's here! It's here!

Super excited that the new blog has come to life over at theScore.ca and encourage you to go check it out and make it part of your regular hockey reading routine.

The fabulous Justin Bourne writes most of it, so you know it's going to have his characteristic wit and the experience of having "been there" as a pro player.

I'll be posting every other Sunday starting this Sunday, with periodic other posts as the fancy strikes me. It really is a dream come true to basically get paid to just be funny about hockey.

I remember Justin and I talking at least 2 years ago about how great it would be to have a hockey blog that features a more irreverent take on the game. All the funniest hockey writers in one spot. So I'm happy to see that dream come to fruition, at least somewhat, for Justin, because he's worked awfully hard for it, and I am completely honored to be involved.

So, please come check it out, get involved in the comments, etc. Should be good fun.

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Victory, Namaste, Backhand Shelf, Delights

I have a lot to say tonight and THANKFULLY I've got that dreaded curse of rec hockey: The adrenaline rush that won't. go. away. 

There's nothing else like this, in my experience. You're just so ON while you're playing, that it takes hours to turn it OFF. No matter how tired your body and mind are, there's that second layer of energy pumping in your veins that always wins the insomnia game.

It's the trade-off for all the fun we have out there.

So, I might as well write some shit while I'm lolling around here waiting on the sandman.

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Victory from the jaws of defeat

Women's league was strange tonight. I was a black hole out there for 39 minutes. LITERALLY waved at a puck that was a good shot but I could see it all the way, knew it was coming, watched it zip over the worthless sack of leather I call a glove. "Hi!" "Bye!" "Fuck."

The other team was quite mean to me though, hacking at me all night. I think we play them again next week when the playoffs start. We can kill penalties if we need to.

Anyway, like I was saying, I played like a sack of rotting meat, letting in 4 goals on not a ton of shots, while the other goalie was playing lights out and really only getting beat on really great chances.

I had to talk myself out of tears at one point, but one of the many great things about my team is that we have a lot of former goalies, so they instinctively knew what I needed. The occasional out-of-their-way visit to commiserate, make me laugh, pad tap, whatever, all kept me going and got me back to my "stop the next puck" mantra, which is where I should have gone when I started feeling rattled.

But I was rattled, so of course, I didn't think of that.

We were down 4-3 with less than a minute on the clock and my girl, M, was working her can off trying to get her third goal of the night and tie it up. She finally succeeded and the game went to a shootout. yay.

But after my last shootout success, I was feeling okay about it. And after all that hacking, I was delighted to get the opportunity to stuff them and get the win.

Fortunately, we got one or two goals in (I tried not to worry too much about the actual score... so much that I grabbed my water bottle and started to head to the bench before the shootout was over... oops!) and I stopped all their shots. Strained a groin to get one of them and it was worth it. I'll smile every time I feel that pain down my inner thigh (I'm lying. I go, "Oww!")

So, it was strange in that a) I played so badly but b) I redeemed that bad play (thanks to my team giving me the opportunity to do so) in the shootout of all things. I'll take it, but better play in regulation would certainly have been preferable.

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Namaste, bro

I saw a tweet today, in light of Wayne Simmonds' homosexual slur against Sean Avery during a game, that the NHL is sending a notice to players that such slurs will now be a callable penalty during games.

My response was, "Oh NHL, stop being so knee-jerk."

Someone questioned me on what I meant by that. What I meant by that was that I get the feeling the league kinda has its panties in a wad. Shanny is dishing out heavy suspensions DAILY. Sometimes multiple times daily. And now they're wanting to penalize how guys chirp each other on the ice.

That's not to say I condone hate speech in any forum. But the notion of my NHLers, who are rough and tumble, emotional, reactionary, and basically required to be INsensitive (both to survive their jobs and to execute them) having to think, "How will this language make my opponent feel?" before they say anything just... feels... I dunno. Wrong.

I don't want players to be automatons out there. It just feels more appropriate to me to work on some cultural sensitivity for the guys and trust them to make positive decisions. Maybe I'm being a hippy dippy goofball but it's a place to start, right? It would serve them well both on and off the ice to not be quite so boorish (or at least learn to hide it so they don't make fools of themselves), but to make it a rulebook penalty offense... come on.

(Now go read Nick in New York's case for the NHL's actions and my further clarification in his comments.)

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Backhand Shelf

Did I mention I have a new gig this season? I'll be contributing to a new hockey blog over on TheScore.ca (yeah, my dumb Texan ass is writing about hockey on a Canadian web site--that doesn't have disaster written all over it, does it?)

Justin Bourne is the new bossman over there, and he's a swell guy and thinks I'm funny and said to just "do your thing." Ohhhh lawsy, careful what you wish for, Bourneo. "And today, with another post on what a sexy beast Barry Brust is..."

Anyway, the new blog is called Backhand Shelf, which I'm pretty annoyed by and wasted no time giving Bourney some shit about it. Then again, me writing for a blog named after a move that routinely burns the best of goalies and is guaranteed to burn me, is probably quite appropriate.

Not sure what this means for my other writing. The nature of the opportunity automagically makes it take precedent over most other things. I need to do some soul searching (and quickly) on what this means for the rest of my writing.

Regardless, there's a lot of potential for fun here, so I'm honored to be included and excited to get going. (Now accepting story ideas!)

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Delights

Things that have thrilled me lately (seriously, this adrenaline just won't quit tonight):

• My new house. You envision living in a place when you decide to buy it, but this has exceeded expectations. I love it. Now if someone would PLEASE just buy our old one. *sigh*
• Finding a hockey player who didn't go to college, in fact is actually still in junior, but can WRITE. And not to knock the college boys I've seen churn out some solid articles, but they tend to be a little stiff and lacking a real voice. But one of the kids who tried out with the Wild this camp, Taylor Peters, has a real gift. Fresh and lively and unabashed in his enthusiasm for writing: a true word nerd. And such confidence, as well. For a young guy, it's remarkable. Check him out.
• Buying rugs. I fucking LOVE area rugs. And having an new house without a speck of carpet means I get to buy several, and moreover, just shop for them constantly. 
• Hummus. It never gets old. (No, not hummers. Though those probably don't get old either. At least for the hummee.)
• The hockey road trip MrC and I have planned in a few weeks. Basically if a team plays anywhere near Lake Erie, we're going to a game. Every day for a week and a half a new city and a new game, except for the day Mr.C goes to the NFL game at Rogers Centre between the Redskins and Bills while I go to the HHOF and a game in Oshawa (giant Clutterbuck mural FTW!) It's going to be either a huge blast or a huge grind. Not sure which yet. Maybe both.

Still not sleepy but now out of stuff to say and also hungry. Thanks to you guys who read my drivel regularly. You're the real heroes. 

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