Miley Cyrus and the Emo Goalie
So, you know I'm just really fucking tired and not feeling at all good about the state of Ms. Conduct when I'm driving home from hockey at midnight and Miley Cyrus comes on the radio and gets me bawling.
What am I? 12 years old? God.
To my credit, it was a really tough night at the rink and for the first time, I thought, "Maybe I'm being a fool with this." So, the lyrics really did hit home.
Still, as justifiable as I'm trying to make it seem, I totally disgust myself with my own emo-ness. Yuck. Pile that on to my frustration with just being a craptastic goalie and getting in trouble from the boys for nutting a guy (I sent him an email apologizing just now) and being a little bitch to Scott TFCG... I'm just feeling like a heel. This second childhood thing is going a little too literally for my taste.
But there's nothing I can do now but do better next time.
So, let me celebrate a few little victories.
- We were on the ice for close to 3 hours and I held up. I was BEGGING for Jiri to open the fucking bay door and run the Zamboni by the end, but I did what I was told to do, mostly.(Scott's gonna argue with me on this point tomorrow, I guarantee it.)
- My blocker glove no longer smells like ass. I ran ripping hot water through it for a while yesterday, and then dried it off with a little fan blowing in it and a couple of dryer sheets stuffed inside. My hand smells like Bounce. This is infinitely better than ass.
- I caught a puck, but it was on a drill and Scott told him to shoot at my glove, so I can't get excited about it as much as Scott wanted me to.
- My knees are bruised. My groin muscles are sore. I'm deliriously tired. I feel like shit mentally. But I'll be ready to go again next week.
May try to hit a Space City stick and puck this week rather than Willowbrook. I'd like more time to just work on some of the lateral movement we worked on this week and I can do that at a quieter stick and puck. Need to see when schools are letting out around there.
Seems like I have bad hockey nights when I wear my Clutterbuck shirt. I'm not doing that again. Though I did get to have a Clutter lovefest with a guy who was watching the game before ours. Man, I miss watching that guy play hockey.
I came home to a lovely email from a fellow editor for In Goal Magazine with nice things to say about my writing. Thank god, at the end of the day, I do something well. I mean really. Thank you, sweet-smelling Baby Jesus, for giving me something that comes naturally. Because it's not goaltending.
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9 comments:
3 Hours! That is some serious ice time. Why so long? I know after about and hour I'm spent. Fatigue sets in, I can't skate and mentally, I often can't keep up (I'm turning in circles). I can't imagine being depended on to make saves at that point. Seems to me that playing that long would do more harm than good as far as development goes.
Yeah, normally our ice time is like an hour and a half, but the hour before our time was unsold so we'll usually pick that up and enjoy some extra ice when we can. Normally those are just games, but it was a practice night, so it was kind of a mix with some practice before and after. I guess we played 4 periods? I dunno.
I do (obviously, if I can't remember how many periods we played) get fuzzy brain after a certain time. I hope some of it stuck. Especially when I'm getting lots of instruction crammed into that time. I'm kinda clinging to a few mental threads hanging on to what they're teaching me. Gatorade is my friend.
Hmmm.... where to start. First off, Miley Cyrus bugs me, but hey, when emotions present themselves, you need to deal with them. Otherwise you turn into a seething cauldron of hate, and that just isn't good for anyone.
No one is going to get on you for getting emotional after getting your ass worked in net. No one. And if they do, tap me on the shoulder, I'll drive down there and Boogaard the prick.
As for the emotional stuff with your teammates (?), they should expect that, and accept any apology you offer. It is, after all, still a game. Even if you nut some guy (he likely needed it), all you can do is apologize and move on. No need to make yourself suffer by punishing yourself for it.
Learn the lesson. Move forward.
Slam your stick next time. Throw a Tukka Rask quality fit. Who cares. You're a goalie. It is almost expected at some point.
Finally... there is a reason none of those other whiny bastards aren't in the net. They are afraid of failure and know that if they fail while in net, it is amplified a thousand times. They fled from that fear. You stood up and said, "Bring it in bitches." Anything they have a problem with at this stage in the game is too f'ing bad.
Let them put on the pads and see what it's like. Otherwise, they can all fuck off.
Power to the goalie! (Even an emotional one.)
*sob* I heart you so much, B. Really. Thank you.
Goaltending accessory nobody warned me I'd need: Kleenex.
"Otherwise you turn into a seething cauldron of hate"
I'm Exhibit A of this theory.
Buck up, kiddo. Nothing worth value ever came easy. Find some Clutterbuck videos on YouTube to cheer you up.
You guys always come through when I need a cheer up. Thanks. And yeah, I think a Clutter montage viewing is in order. http://wild.nhl.tv/team/console.jsp?&id=39285
Sorry your Clutterbuck shirt does not bring you any luck on hockey night.
There is a womens group on Sundays here that could always use abother goalie. Usually they use children. I'm just saying... if you're ever in town I could hook you up. :)
Thanks Hip. :) Next time I'm in Phoenix and have my goalie gear, I'll expect a game!
H, no worries. I love it every other day. Just superstitious so Clutter will have to be a Monday-Saturday shirt. :)
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