Okay, so tonight begins nearly 2 weeks without playing goal and as I've mentioned, I'm kinda happy about that. I need a fresh perspective. I need to crave it again.
And I think I started on a good foot tonight, but it took me a while--pretty much the whole drive back from Sugar Land--to figure it out.
I started out bad. Baaaaaaaad. Hardly stopped anything, but didn't see a ton of shots either. The other team was pretty stacked though, so I saw lots of action in the second half and still got lit up, BUT (here's the good part) I got better as the game went on. I was able to start adjusting to the speed and style of play and make some really nice stops at the end.
Also, what was nice was that the really, really good guys shooting on me didn't show me much mercy. They picked the corners, they deked and dangled and tried to freeze me and passed and did all the shit that will leave a goalie curled in the corner of their net rocking back and forth. And I appreciate that. I'm less embarrassed when both of us make an honest effort and I get beat, than when they hold back to spare my ego.
But the best guy would actually tell me what I did wrong after he scored on me. Let off too soon, bad angle, etc. which I really appreciated and I thanked him for it. As I've mentioned, instant feedback is SO helpful. He's one of those guys who's just way the fuck better than everyone else, so he uses that as a leadership opportunity and does a lot of coaching in-game.
I even got to the point where I enjoyed him coming in on me (which he did often because somehow the puck was always passed right to him at the blue line... cherry picker!!) because he's a creative shooter and it just forced me to be patient since I couldn't anticipate at all what he was going to do.
I ended up with two or three really good stops on him, including a sweet poke check that would have made Scotty proud of me.
So, I could get all upset and be down on myself for letting so many past me, but I'm tired of that and I'm not going to do it tonight. I actually feel like I got back on track a bit mentally, even though I was outmatched skill-wise.
I challenged, I adapted, I stayed focused and energetic in spite of all the pucks whizzing past me. I think I kept a good perspective on things and that felt nice for a change. I almost had fun. I think a couple more outings with this bunch and I'll start to get up to speed, especially if I can keep on progressing positively on the mental side of things.
Meanwhile, it's gonna be at least 3 days before I'm not walking like I just rode cross-country on a horse. Scott had me doing groin-unfriendly things (um, all appropriate goaltending things, I probably should add, since it's Scott we're talking about here) last night, and tonight I went down awkwardly in the fly, a little out of control, and man... I'm hurting.
But I'll whine and gimp around for a couple of days and then I'll be fine. Ain't no thang. The nice thing was that the ice was a little softer than last time there, but still 100x better than Willowbrook. Had absolutely no problems with getting enough bite. My skating and footwork was actually as good as it's been in a while. Very comfortable on that ice.
Doesn't feel like midnight. That's a bad sign for getting to sleep anytime soon.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Okay, so tonight begins nearly 2 weeks without playing goal and as I've mentioned, I'm kinda happy about that. I need a fresh perspective. I need to crave it again.
Everything is a little shinier in the light of day and maybe it wasn't that bad last night. It's just that right now, the primary feeling when I make a save is just RELIEF. Not that rush of FUCK YEAH that I used to get. I miss the FY. I need the FY back. I lived for the FY.
And I can't even tell you the last time I was in "the zone"... I've been there and it's such a nice place. But now I feel like I've got bees in my head when I've got a play coming at me. I feel jangly in the brain, if that makes sense. Noisy mind. Instead of thinking how to stop them, I'm thinking how I've been beat in this scenario. Clearly, that's nota thought process that leads to success. I'm hoping having an extended break will help clear some of those cobwebs.
But I did have a few nice stops. One was a bouncy puck that I trapped against the top of my pad. This is the main reason I love my new glove... it isn't perma-flattened, so when I need to trap the puck against the ice or my pads or whatever, it's just got that nice round bowl shape that covers it right up. My old one, I'd end up shoving it further away from me or some dumb thing like that.
Had another that I trapped between my skate and the post and covered with my stick. Risky save but I could feel it between my skate and the post and I knew if I moved at all, the risk of it going in was pretty severe. Luckily I got a whistle before anybody was able to poke it free. It was literally just sitting on the line. Phew.
Also, the disastrous 5-hole I had last week was much better. Though we have this one new guy who has probably the fastest release of anybody I face at novice. Man, he can rip 'em off in a blink. He usually shoots instead of passing, so I need to just get lower and get down quicker. He just ripped one 5-hole, and I went down but the puck beat me.
A couple of things I feel like I need to work on in practice because I'm repeatedly getting burned:
- Shots from the left circle. There's a whole swath of angle there that I just haven't learned to position myself for. I'm ALWAYS too far left and too deep, and they just bang it in just past my toe far side. Never happens from the right, but I think I just see fewer shots from that side due to hand-dominance.
- Keeping focused on the puck when I drop into the fly. Hot Shot burns me on this at least once a week, where he'll blow down to about 3 feet above my crease, winds up a shot, and puts it right over my glove. But I realize, I'm dropping my focus on the puck when I fly so I'm not able to track it and try and catch it. One of these days, I'll get a glove on that move and I don't give a flying fuck what anybody thinks about it, I'm gonna ... tell him it was a GREAT shot with a big grin on my face. (See? I'm figuring it out.)
Cause I'm too MFing tired to write paragraphs.
- New glove and blocker are getting more comfy. Yay.
- Scotty tried to kill me or make me barf but skater drills requiring a goalie started up and I was saved by the whistle. Thank god. I was huffin' and puffin'. Good stuff. Thought I was gonna hurl early in that first drill though.
- Amazing how dumb I get when I'm exerting myself. Like, simple questions I'm all, "I'm sorry, I don't understand the question." Just. Can't. Process. Use drawings and monosyllabic words.
- Let in 3 goals but I think I only saw about 6 shots. Okay, maybe a few more, but my team was definitely NOT on the "let the goalie see shots" plan. It was more like, "For the love of fuck, don't let them get in our zone." I wasn't playing well, but I will be sharper tomorrow night at the SLICE drop-in.
- Did not muster my swagger tonight. Not even close. But Scott drilled into me to challenge challenge challenge and it helped. Tomorrow night, I'll challenge challenge challenge, bitches.
- Knee pads worked! They're a little uncomfortable but it's hella better than my knee hitting the ice over and over and I didn't have to remove any of the current knee stack. Win!
- I have an episode of Trailer Park Boys playing as I write this because the house is quiet, and Ricky's "drawing a line" on the grass with duct tape. Haha... Love it.
- Hung out after and drank beer alternated with water, because this time I needed to be able to drive home. Smart girl. But then we got hungry and I needed to pee so I made a Whataburger run and got taquitos for everyone. The Whataburger folks were a little thrown off my my request for 20 taquitos, but they got 'er done while I went to a gas station to use the bathroom (their dining room was closed already).
- I do not pee in bushes, TYVM. Princess demands a flush toilet.
- Had fun getting to know Doug a little better. His kid's heading up to ON to play on a Junior A team, which is pretty neat for a Texas kid.
- It was just good in general to have some beers, not even care what time it was, and hang out with my teammates. Maybe I needed a little of that brand of bonding after a really tough month in goal. Sometimes it can be pretty lonely back there, especially when the guys head off to their own locker rooms and all the "chatter" about whatever I've done only gets back to me filtered through Scott. Leaves me with a lot of self-doubt with regard to my teammates. And self-doubt is one of those things I tried to give up in my 30s, so I'm not enjoying it's return to my life.
- Man, I stink. In the "go take a shower, stinky!" sense of it. But at least I had the energy to put the trash and recycling out so I don't have to get up early and deal with it. Woot.
- After tomorrow night at SLICE, I don't play again until the Sunday after Labor Day weekend. Frankly, I've been wallowing in so much angst, I'm looking forward to a week of freedom from that flavor of anxiety. I always play better when I miss the game a bit. Lately, it has dominated my thoughts and I'm a little tired of it, frankly.
- Case in point, I don't even feel like writing about the actual time on the ice. It wasn't fun and I wasn't happy with my play. Why elaborate?
Here's my new favorite song. It's gets me in a FU mood, but in a good way. Kinda fits a theme of fighting to get my confidence back, stop being intimidated, etc. Rock on, kids. Have a great Monday.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
And I love them.
In fact, I can tell you with absolutely no uncertainty that I love them as much right now as I'll ever love them. Because once the season starts, it will be a long, torturous slide into gut wrenching disappointment.
Okay, maybe a little over-dramatic but really, it's true that if you really like the team you pick, that moment after the draft when you're basking in the dominant glow of Peyton Manning and Michael Turner is as good as it's ever going to get during the season.
So, I'm just gonna bask for a while. Here's my starting line-up, which will last well into... week 1.
Here's some inspiration for my team:
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I'm sitting on the deck this afternoon, enjoying being just a little bit sticky, but also a cool breeze that's making it almost pleasant to be outside.
All while reminding myself in my best pessimistic inner voice that this doesn't mean Fall is coming. It just means Canada is blowing some mercy southward for a day or two. Thank you for so many things, Canada, but especially thank you for the occasional bearable summer day in Houston.
Here's the run down so far:
Got hooked on watching Dexter online from Netflix. Good shit but probably shouldn't have watched so much of it last night before going to bed, because a) it gave me really fucked up dreams and b) there was no way in hell I was gonna get up and go to the 4:45 stick and puck.
And I really kinda needed to go to try out my knee pads before tomorrow night. Alas, it will be trial by fire for that gear configuration, and after last week, I think Scott may literally be bringing a gun.
Went to lunch with Fred at Christian's. FMD those are some good burgers. Just not the same without Dr. Pepper though. *sniff* I miss you, Doc! And of course, it was great to talk hockey and catch up, but also Fred brought me a prezzie! A 20x30 of this photo:
I have no idea what made Fred think I'm a fan of Barry's... *innocent face*
Seriously though, it's so magnificent and life-sized, I nearly threw my bra at it. I don't call Fred Mr. Awesome for nothing, kids.
And now I'm thinking about all the errands I need to run but REALLY don't want to on a Saturday afternoon with everybody else in Houston. But the dog is down to his last meal, so I guess I better be a good mommy and feed him before he starts eating boxes of Kleenex and rolls of toilet paper.
I've also been thinking a lot about my horrible clusterfuck of a game last week. And when I look back, I can't think of a single shooter I challenged. All I did, all night long, was back up into my crease like the incredible shrinking goalie.
There's stuff going on there, but the bottom line is that it's just one of those things where I have to accept my circumstances and battle through on my own, and I think a big key to doing so is going to be playing with high confidence.
I haven't had much confidence for a while. And I'm realizing that I have to find a way to get my swagger back without coming off like an asshole to my teammates, because I think when you're as bad a goalie as I am, you'll die on the vine waiting to *earn* the swagger.
You just have to come with it, if for no other reason than you're The MFing Goalie, and let it flow. Swagger gives you the bravado to challenge even the best shooters and to keep goals against from getting to you. I just have to find a way to have swagger in my heart and not on my lips.
Meanwhile, I can think about it all I want, but I have to put it into action Sunday at practice and Monday (when I play the SLICE drop-in again). Wish me luck.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
You don't hear this often, but I love my mechanic. My 4Runner is getting on about 10 years old and runs like a champ, but little things are creeping up now and my guy is so great. And today I go and pick up my car after some work... he's got a hockey puck sitting on his desk.
Said they've had it in their office for about 30 years, got it in some promotional thing. Funny, but little things like that have to be signs that I'm patronizing the right business, right? If anybody needs a mechanic in central Houston: System Garage, ask for Mike.
Got some sharpening stones in the mail today (Scott, I got two. I'll give you the other if you need/want it). Never used one before so hopefully I won't screw up my blades, but it looks pretty straightforward. I just get dings and burrs from hitting the posts occasionally, but don't really like to get them sharpened too often, especially with all this soft summer ice.
If I were playing at SLICE rather than Willowbrook more regularly, I'd opt for sharper skates since that ice is so hard, but it's mush at Willowbrook.
However, it's not any easier on my knees when I bang 'em on the ice. Wanna see my knee today?
Pretty. I look like a pork chop that's gone bad. Or like Tonya Harding wants my roster spot. These aren't proud goalie bruises. They're stupid goalie bruises. Knee pads next week.
Ordered a new laptop over the weekend, one of those little Netbooks. Figure it will be good for covering hockey and it has a web cam, so next time I'll video my bruises! Sweeeeet. You can't wait!
But damn if that Free shipping Amazon offers isn't just the MFing slow boat! And it's not that the shipping itself is slow, it's that they take their sweet lollygagging time getting it out for shipment. It should really be called "SuperSaver Handling" because the shipping is fine, but they apparently process those orders from their warehouse on the moon.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Always funny and insightful blogger, Justin Bourne, takes on Goalies today. He wants to know: Why do fans love them to a disproportionate degree over other position players? Why on earth would anybody BE one? Are they all nuttier than a bag full of rabid squirrels?
I have kind of a crazy theory on why chicks, at least, like goalies so much: It's a primal thing. Goalies protect the "nest." Everything about goalies says, "This is a man who will sacrifice and suffer, who will carry the burden on his shoulders and thrive under the pressure of responsibility. This is a man I can make babies with."
I'm not saying that's a literal thought process, hence the "primal"... but I think there's something to it. Plus, they're kinda mysterious with all that gear and rumors of wacky instability. Chicks dig a project, even if it's just figuring a guy out.
I love to hear how goalies became goalies, but it always seems like guys are a little hesitant to answer. I've always thought it was because they've answered it a million times and are sick of the question, but clearly people want to know, because it does seem like a rather illogical thing to do. Especially to decide on it as a kid.
But then I thought maybe they're like me and really the answer is, "I just did." Simple as that. I just realized one day, I have to be a goalie. I don't know that I've ever felt so strongly about something in my life; like my internal compass just points Goalie.
For the longest time, I couldn't fathom why anybody *wouldn't* want to be a goalie. I would sit on the bench when I was first playing as a winger and swallow the jealous pangs I was feeling watching the goalies make saves. I wanted to be out there doing that so bad I could taste it.
Now? Well, now I get not wanting to be a goalie. The highs are WAY higher but the lows are literally breathtakingly low at times. I think at any other position, it's a little more of an even ride, especially as you're learning. I never spent Monday crying over skating out. I also never drove home singing at the top of my lungs skating out.
Sunday nights are sort of like Fight Club for me. It's where I get to see what I'm made of, and no matter what happens, I've at least scraped the doldrums of responsible adulthood off myself for a few days. I get to scream and cheer and battle and feel victorious, shitty, loved, and lonely all in that 90 minutes of ice. And if I don't leave the rink with something hurting, then I'm a little let down. Shoot, boys, and shoot hard. I want to feel it.
And you know, they say goalies are crazy, yet I'm the most mental one I know. Most are smart and level-headed, at least at the amateur level. Can't speak to the pros all that much, though I can't even imagine how those guys handle the pressure, and I can certainly see where on days where they play, there would be a rigorous routine to ensure the proper state of mind come game time.
They've all been super nice, too. Especially among each other. Generous with time and patience and advice, always. Goalies are good people who have a really difficult job to do, so sometimes they have employ weird measures to get it done right.
Anyway, Justin had questions:
Is it the pretty gear, guys?
That part is nice. Though it sucks as an amateur because it's so MFing expensive. But we do look kinda badass. Except for the ones with bad taste in gear. Talking to you, Drew MacIntyre.
The fact that the position is utterly devoid of skating?
I love to skate, but I have a personal space bubble that I really don't like others in. I hated that part of playing out. As a goalie, I have my own space bubble on the ice that players are wise to steer clear of. As I've mentioned, I don't take to tight screens too well.
The glory of the glove save?
Haven’t you whack-jobs ever scored a goal? Don’t you have any idea how good that feels?
Yep. Just the one though. And while I was delighted to finally get a goal, my primary mental picture looking back is of Scott slumped on his knees after it was called a goal and feeling badly for making the goalie sad. Man, I hate a sad goalie more than anything. Sad shooter? Who gives a shit? Shooters get plenty of chances to try again.
What did your parents do to you?
Well, I'm an only-child, which explains an awful lot.
Are you non-goalies out there aware of how hard a frozen hockey puck is? And I can shoot one 80 miles an hour. Which end of that do you wanna be on?
I wanna be the one saying NO! You spent years learning to shoot a puck that hard and I just negated all that work by simply being in the way. Better luck next time.
Goalies: Spend half the game alone. No chance to be the hero of the moment, only consistency bring accolades. 50% odds of being the goat.
- What's wrong with being alone? You have the best seat on the ice to watch hockey. Not a thing wrong with that.
- Hero moment? Oh, I got your hero moment, hot shot.
- The goat thing is totally true though.
Monday, August 24, 2009
I've been beating myself up (with a little help, thanks) all day. My psyche looks about as black and blue as my knee (which, if it gets more colorful, you'll get pictures).
I'm pretty sure all that consternation didn't make me a better goalie, but I can tell you one thing, I sure do feel like getting drunk.
Or maybe I need to have a crazy liquor and cheeseburger party.
Either way, I've gotta blow off some steam before I go any more mental. But seeing as how most of my friends are employed or otherwise engaged in responsible adult activities that prohibit Tuesday night benders, I guess I'll just get up early and go for a run.
Please, baby Jesus, let there be hot boys to look at while I run. I don't ask for much.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
I gotta tell ya. I was so bad tonight, I don't even know what to write. I think I let in about 37 goals. I probably gave a few of my defensemen some kind of disease from being in my proximity all night.
I was kinda waiting for my internal organs to start shutting down one by one out of sheer humiliation. Honestly, there was a point in the third period where I thought, "If I'd been sitting on the bench for the last 10 minutes, the score would be exactly what it is right now." Actually, that's not true. My defensemen probably would have stopped a few of those.
I just couldn't do anything right. I was getting brutalized 5-hole most of the night. Usually I expect a couple of drinks out of the deal if I'm gonna get that kinda action. My timing was horrific, my stick had some kind of allergy to the ice.
My energy actually felt really good, I was just off angle and out of position all night.
You know what it is... I'm thinking too much again about the wrong stuff. When I just go out there and make my #1 objective to be square to the puck and let the rest kinda handle itself, then I do pretty well. I'm scatterbrained and even though I felt sharp mentally, I was sharp in the wrong places.
Plus, 5-hole. WTF? I'm usually pretty decent there!
First time in 9 months that I really almost started crying in goal. I mean, really. What a girl.
I did make a sweet glove save. About lost my mind though he was probably being nice and shot it at my glove... but even then, that doesn't guarantee anything with me, so I'll take it. My new glove isn't naturally pancaked closed like my old one was. Plus it's WAY lighter, so it's easier to keep up and open.
Doesn't redeem the night at all, but at least it gives me one nice thing to say about the evening. Other than a few of my teammates and Scott were decent to me about it. Man, I'm tired of letting them down though. That's the worst of it, you know? They work so hard and it's really just their crappy goalie putting them in the L column every week lately.
And that's really what has me frustrated. I feel like I'm more knowledgeable and stronger than ever and yet, I'm getting worse. What the fuck do I have to do to see some meaningful improvement?
Anyway, I tried tightening that skate strap down on my pads, but I was still banging my knee all night on the ice. Next week I'll try the v-ball knee pads (wanted to give the tight strap a chance to work).
In honor of my active 5-hole tonight:
OH! And thanks to Sheala and Janelle for coming out to watch some of the game. Man, I'm usually a little better than I was tonight, so sorry for the bad show, but I appreciate you gorgeous gals coming out and cheering the odd save that I actually managed to make. Love y'all. :)
Saturday, August 22, 2009
You know what gives you the worst Fuck Me Dead feeling ever? When the peak of your energy and joie de vivre for the day hits you at about 10:30 at night.
I guess if you're one of those kids who's cooler than me and doesn't START going out until 11, then it's just right, but somehow I completely missed that period of my life. I was busy being poor and responsible and square. Fuck. I need some youngsters to party with, eh?
Anyway, I'm saying Fuck a lot because I had to go to the Texans game tonight, which is like the second worst Fuck Me Dead feeling ever. Pre-season. Against the Saints. *sigh* They should have named that building Dementor Stadium because that team just rips the will to live right out of my soul.
I mean, on the very worst night of Jacques Lemaire's "The Trap Hockey That Ate Minnesota," it's like a freaking carnival of delight compared to this football game tonight.
And I was excited to go! I'm trying to put a good foot forward about football this season. I'm trying to muster the love I used to have for it before Warren "Crazy Eyes" Sapp went to the Raiders and John "Every Day and Twice on Sunday" Lynch went to Denver. Yeah, I was a Bucs fan for a few really fun years. Gruden was evil and hilarious. Mr. Derek Brooks really WAS my favorite player. Right behind Martin Gramatica. (I'm not kidding. I actually have a Gramatica jersey. Please love me anyway.)
Then they won the Super Bowl, which most people thought was boring but I was still reeling from the fact that they FINALLY beat the Eagles at home in cold weather to get there. The fact that they actually crushed the Raiders was just cream gravy on a really fun season.
But now I have Texans season tickets. I enjoyed games the first couple of seasons, what with hating the shit out of David Carr, but when Sage Rosenfels helicoptered last season, it was over. Like that moment when you know... you just can't do this anymore. Take your ring back, give me your set of keys, you can pick up your shit later. Don't call me ever again. I'm rarely so decisive about things. But it was O.V.E.R. and it still is.
I don't feel so hostile toward them any more but they still are just awful and inept and boring. Reliant Stadium is where football joy goes to die. But now I just kind of feel sorry for it. And bored. So BORED. If they ran two consecutive plays without a challenge, a penalty, or a timeout, I missed it. They need to speed this shit up.
Anyway, long day tomorrow of packing the Mister up and sending him on his way to Kansas City (where we now have a partial Chief's season ticket package... here's hoping for happier feelings about that team). And then a long hockey game tomorrow night, which I'm really looking forward to after laying around being sick all week.
I love you, hockey... more today than yesterday, but not as much as after sitting through Texans football.
(P.S. This needs music...)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
My new glove and blocker got dropped off at my front gate this evening. They're even lovelier than I expected. And also stiffer and tighter. :)
I'll be wearing them around the house, trying to get them broken in a bit. The glove on the blocker is really tight. I'll be dropping my stick all night if I don't get it broken in a bit.
I've been noodling my too-tall-pads issue, too.
I tried on Scott TFCG's kid's next set of pads. Some really nice Eagles, but the knee stack is even further from the ankle than it is on my RBKs, in spite of being a shorter pad overall. They're very stiff and very uncomfortable, so I think they'll just go right back to Scott on Sunday and I'll keep playing in mine.
They were kinda weird in that, when I butterflied in them, I was getting a bunch of torque on my knees because the knee stack was lower than the padding at my ankles... or something like that. Anyway, super uncomfy. I have a new appreciation for my big, soft, pillowy RBKs. :)
Also, one thing I realized is that about half the shots that don't go in on me 5-hole are stopped because of my knee stacks being so far forward on the pad vs. where my knees actually are. I've never really had to learn good knee-closing habits (ahem) because of this, so when I do eventually get pads that fit right, I'm gonna be screwed 5-hole (where else?) for a while until I learn to close that up instinctively.
In the meanwhile, I've pretty much decided that now's just not the time to be buying new gear. I'll keep an eye out for a good deal on the used market and try to make a little "gear money" selling my inline skates and some of my player gear, but otherwise, I'm gonna stick with what I've got. But I did pick up some slim-profile volleyball knee pads to throw on and see if that helps protect my knees a bit better until I'm ready for new pads. I'll try those out Sunday and see how much they're in the way vs. helpful.
I also got a new water bottle with a long drinking nozzle on it. The bottle is huge, too. Very nice. Wish I'd ordered two, now. And I picked up a couple of new sweat bands for my mask off Ebay. I wash mine after every game and that seems to wear it out pretty quickly, yet I can't imagine NOT washing it. So I guess I'll just have to put a new one in every 6 months or so. At about $6 a pop, I can deal with that.
But for now, I'm just trying to get well. Got a cold that's eating me alive and making me miserable. I'd like to be feeling great on Sunday since we have another 2.5 hour ice time. It's all game this time, and I want to win.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
So, I think I was forced to face a reality last night that I've been avoiding, which is that my leg pads are too tall.
Now, when you're buying leg pads, the measurement that matters most is your ATK (ankle to knee). The smart gang over at the Goalie Store BB even started a chart showing what ATK measurement is just right for each brand and size of pad. (Because god forbid the manufacturers provide that information...)
And it works great when you can't actually go to stores and try on pads, like those of us stuck in the hockey hinterlands.
The problem is when you're an idiot like me and you mis-measure your ATK... by a LOT. I measured myself at 17.5 when I bought my pads. And that was supposed to be just right for the pads I bought (RBK 6k 34"). But I've had problems the whole time I've had them with my knees sliding off the knee stack when I butterfly and the side of my knee hitting the ice.
I probably don' t have to say how painful that is, though I don't much notice during the game because I'm pretty busy, but I can feel the cold of the ice on my knee and know that I didn't land well. And I find that the faster the game, the faster I have to drop, the worse it is. Last night was the worst it's ever been. My knee is bruised and swollen this morning. :(
Of course, it's only one knee, on the leg that I can almost always make the pad rotate properly. I come down on top of the pad so often with the other leg that it doesn't get a chance to get banged up. Perhaps pad size has been a factor in that problem? I dunno. Probably just me.
Sooooo.... I have to figure this out. I'm not sure this is a sustainable or fixable situation with the pads I have, but man, Mr. C isn't going to be happy with me about this. Not that my pads were expensive to start with, but still...
My correct ATK is closer to 16-16.5" (how did I get that SO wrong?), so I've gotta hunt down some pads that work better for that and don't break the bank. For around $300 I can get the next size down of what I have, but with a Turco break (preferable). Need to see what the used market has, too.
It's always something, but now that I'm thinking about how nice it would be to not be forever sliding off the back of my knee stacks, I'm practically salivating at the thought.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Well, the poor folks who play the Monday night drop-in at Sugar Land were so desperate for a goalie, they actually let me play in goal for them tonight.
Maybe it's just me, but it's kind of a milestone when you get asked out to an ice time for the first time as a goalie. I think they were pretty much down to putting a cone in the net or using me, so it's not that big a deal, but still, I really appreciated the opportunity and the free ice.
My only regret was the timing. I was definitely fatigued from my nearly 3 hours on the ice last night. I started out strong, probably the first 10 minutes when they were kinda just rifling shots from the blue line, testing me out a bit and I was stopping everything. But then they figured out to get in close and either pick the corners or pass. And I could tell I just wasn't making the right decisions in some cases, not following the puck (visually) as sharply as I would have liked, positioning was jacked up, etc.
So, I let some stinkers in. A few where I was too deep, which was a combination of intimidation at the speed and shooting and fatigue. I kept telling myself, "Top of the crease! Top of the crease!" but then they'd pass or it would start bouncing and I'd get all scattered and bleh. Goal. (Note to self and Scott: Really need to work on my angle on shots from the circles. I'm just WAY off on judging that and leaving too much net far side. Help!!!)
The worst was in the second half, after the other goalie (who was actually pretty hot) and I switched ends, I made an initial save with the rebound going into the low slot while I'm sort of over to my glove side. I look up and I see a white sweater with his stick on the puck and I think, "Okay cool, he'll clear it." He shoots it in the net. Fuck! I'm playing for the dark team! I totally would have had that one, too. Stupid brain fart.
Anyway, on the plus side, I did have some nice saves. It never ceases to amaze me how impressed people seem to be when you stop a hard shot from the point. Those are so easy. They're coming from a mile away, so unless they get tipped, you can watch them all the way in. Had quite a few of those and I think I stopped them all. It's those ones in close that killed me tonight.
And I had what had to be my best save EVER, but of course, they don't know my game so they couldn't have appreciated what a miracle it was that I caught a screened shot in my glove (and it stayed there). It was 1 on 1, and my defenseman was screening me big time, but I was able to pick up enough body language from the shooter that I somehow knew to stick my glove out, and boom. Right in my trapper. Almost a completely blind glove save. Crazy! I'll be enjoying that one for a while. It was such a beauty.
Overall, I feel kinda meh about it, even though it was fun and everybody was very nice and cool. I know I have a better game in me and I wish I could have brought that, but I did the best I could tonight. I even fell twice and like they say, "If you not falling, you're not trying."
And speaking of which, what was amazing was how nice the ice was! Man, I knew it was bad at Willowbrook but holy crap, it's REALLY bad at Willowbrook! The ice is just beautiful at SLICE. Smooth, hard. Oh man, it was so nice. Sliding was so much easier... in fact a little too easy a number of times, as I overplayed a few sliding saves because I slid so freely. Ended up doing a two-pad stack at one point when I just meant to butterfly slide because my pushing leg just kept going underneath me. I'm so graceful. Stopped it though. ;)
And if my legs didn't hurt last night, they officially hurt like hell now. Calves were cramping all day and they didn't like being in the skates at first, but I shook that off and was fine while I was out there, other than my groins being on fire. Now that I'm home, climbing the stairs is not fun. The gams are getting the day off tomorrow for sure other than stretching. And I'm getting that sno-cone I didn't get today!
This song has nothing to do with my game tonight. I just like it.
Tonight we had extra ice, so we had 45 minutes or so of practice and then we scrimmaged for 4 periods.
I started about here with a really good, focused, productive practice:
Started with a nice 3 on 2 drill that got the defense some good work and some good practice staying square to the puck with a bunch of passing for the goalies. Scott had me and Bang rotating out, which was great because we didn't wear out as fast and we could talk about what we just did with some immediacy. I LOVE instant feedback. It really helps me analyze things better in the moment.
Then they moved to a backchecking drill that we do quite often, and I think it really helps the skaters. Plus it's fun for me. I love shootout-like situations. Mano a mano, baby. That's my favorite. Plus, my timing was really good tonight and I was really stopping folks. I credit a few good rounds of Wii Tennis earlier in the day where I was really focused on improving my timing. I guess that "patience under pressure" training carried over to hockey pretty well!
Also, on the way out to the rink tonight, I knew I needed to do some attitude adjusting with regard to Hot Shot. Same thing I had to do back when Jessica used to keep me up at night. Basically have to tell myself, when he's barreling down the ice at me, to think, "Yay, I get a chance to try and learn to stop him." rather than, "Fuck. THAT guy again." It helped. I stopped him several times tonight. Though I took one right in the boob. Damn, that hurts. But I stopped it. Pain goes away. :)
Green was a little thin on bodies, so Scott played D for me. Maybe it's candyass of me but it's comforting when he's on my side. I think WAY too much when he's shooting on me, so it's a relief to not have to worry about that.
Anyway, I had some good saves. First period was really good, and green lit Bang up pretty good so it was pretty lopsided. But I fell apart in the second. And fell and fell and fell.
I was trying hard to stay focused, but 4 periods on top of a practice was pretty rough and I was getting dehydrated. And I rationed my Gatorade with the impression we were doing 3 periods, not 4. So the 4th rolls around and I'm dry, but so fuzzy headed and tired by now that it takes me half of our 2 minute break to figure out that I should probably go put some water in my bottle.
By then, everyone's getting back on the ice and I figure I won't have time to drink it anyway, so whatever. But in the 4th, my calves and hamstrings started cramping. Ohhhh, sweet mercy, that hurt. Luckily, my team always cleared the puck when it was happening, so I had time to recover.
First time I've ever gotten that dehydrated playing hockey, so that was an unpleasant experience. Puts a little hair on your chest though, so that's okay. Part of goaltending is playing through whatever you've got going on. No bench to go sit on when you're tired or hurting. Shake it off and keep going.
I let in at least 2 that I would have stopped if my right pad had rotated correctly. Geez, that's fuckin' frustrating me. And 2 more bounced in off my pads. Just laziness on my part there. Seemed like there were more pucks getting tipped or coming off skates or whatever tonight. But hey, gotta stop those, too.
But in the 4th period, I was definitely feeling like this:
I wondered a couple of times if I was even going to get back to the room, but I did. Just very very slowly. Guzzled 3 bottles of water after the game and still have absolutely no urge to pee. I haven't been this dehydrated since our 26 hour Hurricane Rita evacuation. 2 bottles of Gatorade weren't enough.
Other stuff: Not much really. One of the screws fell apart on my right pad toe tie flappy thing. I was leaving parts all over the ice. Still missing one but I think I can buy a replacement at the hardware store.
Also noticed a little rust on my cage. That annoys me because I'm so fanatical about airing it out. It also occurs to me that I should wring out my sweatband between periods. I was getting a river of cold sweat down my face when I put my mask back on to start the period. Nasty and annoying to get sweat dumped right in my eye.
I ordered my new glove and blocker yesterday, so hopefully that will come this week and I can start breaking in the glove and USING the blocker. OH to not be able to poke my fingers through the holes in the blocker glove! And no ass funk smell on my hands after! Heaven! I can't wait. Probably won't use the trapper on Sundays until after Labor Day when I've had time for Mr. C to play a bunch of catch with me and break it in a bit.
Oh, I don't think I mentioned the score. Frankly, I don't remember what it was because my back was to the scoreboard when the game ended and I just wanted to get the hell off the ice and sit down, but I know we lost. If I'd just been a little more focused on some of those sloppy goals we might have squeaked past them, so I feel badly about that. But not so badly that I'm not going to get a sno-cone tomorrow to treat myself. ;)
Friday, August 14, 2009
I asked my followers on Twitter today, "Do fans of other sports wax poetic about their sport as much as hockey fans? Baseball, tho that often seems to be more a nostalgic endeavor."
The question came to mind while reading Puck Daddy's on-going series of guest posts "5 Reasons I Love Hockey." What I love is that they're so varied and so personal, and while many are rooted very much in an individual's own history with the sport, just as much love is tied to the game as it is today.
Now, I know plenty of baseball fans who can wax poetic about their game, but I think for many, there's a taint left by the steroid era that leaves many unable to write lustily about the game as it is today, to love it without qualification. There are exceptions, of course, so bear with me, as I know I'm painting in broad strokes here, but I'm not really looking for a hockey vs. baseball thing.
And I know Mr.C longs for the days when football fields weren't high tech or domed and didn't drain all that well and players got caked in mud and wide receivers weren't pampered attention whores. We watch a lot of NFL Films shows, and you can tell they feel the same way. There's something about old school football that's just gritty and real. The modern version feels a bit plastic and overwrought.
But among most hockey fans I know, the purity of the game hasn't really been altered all that much. I mean, you can make arguments about the instigator and shootouts and expansion, but really, when the puck hits the ice... oh, it still makes your heart swell, doesn't it?
My question remains, however. I'd be interested to get an opinion from someone who's a die-hard for another sport, because I genuinely don't know. I subscribe to over 100 hockey blogs and one baseball blog, so clearly my exposure is outrageously lopsided.
But I can tell you with a great deal of certainty that writing about how much we love hockey is practically a hockey-writing genre of its own. I mean, there is plenty else to write about with trades, games, front office shenanigans, Bettman doing whatever he's doing lately, and on and on. But I don't know anybody who writes regularly about hockey who doesn't love to just sit back and reflect on why the sport is as addictive, beautiful, and "in our blood" as much as it is.
For me, I find this happens because sometimes I just can't believe how it's taken over my life and made it better, for the most part. And I get to enjoy every aspect it of it, apart from maybe coaching it. I find creative fulfillment in writing about it, personal and competitive fulfillment (and humility, even though I don't always show it) in playing it, and just straight up enjoyment from watching it.
I dunno. It's just something I'm pondering today. Until I hear an argument otherwise, I'm convinced that hockey is special and hockey people are special in the way they love their game.
Anyway, the five reasons I love hockey:
- I love that so many really important things about the game are nearly inexplicable. From the mysteries of team chemistry to how guys can be punching each other in the face and screaming at each other between penalty boxes one minute, and then having a beer after the game. It doesn't make a lick of sense, but it happens and it happens all the time and not only is it NOT detrimental to the game, it's part of why it's so magical.
- I love the contrasts. How the tough guys on the ice are almost always the nicest guys off the ice. The grace and the violence. How you can be so fucking sweaty standing in the midst of so much ice.
- I love the traditions and rituals. Everything from "the code" to the handshake after a playoff series. From the the octopi in Detroit and the rats in Florida and Section 303 in Nashville. Nobody tells anybody to do that stuff. They just do it because it's part of the experience.
- I love hockey people. People who are sincerely passionate about the game, either as fans, writers, or players/coaches at any level, are the nicest, most generous people by and large I've ever met. They also tend to be funny and creative and outspoken (in a good way), all things I love in a person. They're generous with their time and energy and patience, lucky for me as I've been a recipient of that benefit over the past couple of years. It's a debt I cannot repay, but I can work harder at paying it forward.
- I love that it's mine. It's like a little love that I carry around with me all the time, and when I'm feeling craptastic or PMSing or played a bad game or in a spat with someone I don't want to be in a spat with, I can pull out that little love and it lifts me up. And it doesn't judge me or expect anything of me or need me to pick up its poop in the yard or feed it. It's just there when I want and need it. I've never been a religious person, but I think the Church of Hockey is as close as I'll ever get to divinity.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
I'm sitting in the middle of my living room floor, finished with the back, shoulders and arms portion of my workout. Between watching episodes of 30 Rock on Hulu and various other distractions, I'm 2 hours into this workout now. ADD much?
And I've still gotta do abs. There's another hour, IF I focus. But I got Shakabuku in my head and sometimes the only thing to do about that is to blog it. So there ya go. The Shakabuku clip from Grosse Pointe Blank. You youngsters out there, if you haven't seen GPB, go rent it. Great movie.
Usually I'm only thinking that word when I need a little Shakabuku of my own. *sigh*
In other news, I'm trying something new. I'm no longer taking Monday's off from workouts, because a) I'm not as tired on Mondays as I used to be (hey, this working out thing works!) and b) I lose my momentum and can't get geared up again until Wednesday or Thursday.
So I ran yesterday. At noon. In 100 degree heat. And easily 80% humidity (it was gross). Because I knew if I didn't, I wouldn't do it at all. The good thing is that because the sun came out, I found the will to do more running to get to the next shady spot.
And more hot guys had their shirts off, and they were moving a bit slower than usual, so I had a fighting chance to keep up. I wasn't moving any slower, because I really CAN'T move much slower and still call it running, so, ya know--Win, win!
The best news is that I've got a date to get my drink on with Amanda tomorrow night at the Leaf. No hockey on the TVs, but as long as they keep filling up my Blue Moon glass and giving me orange wedges and as long as Amanda just nods and smiles while I drunkenly air my grievances and try to avoid crying about them, I'll be golden. Yay fun!
Okay, back to Abs. At this rate, dinner will be a glass of milk in bed.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Lily Allen seems appropriate for my post-hockey run down:
Kind of a weird night (apologies in advance for being rambly and stream-of-consciousness here Update: And apparently assholey. Me and my big mouth.).
With Coach Dan out for a few weeks with wrist surgery and several of the usual ringers out for the night, I knew I had my work cut out for me. Mitch and Michelle both played center really well though, broke up a lot of plays. And man, it's fun watching Mitch and Jessica battle. Their styles are really similar, both good defensively and work their asses off in the neutral zone, and they're just a blast to watch duel for the puck.
I was getting really pissed in the first period. A lot of tight passing right in front of me and I just couldn't get over. And then Scott TFCG... Scott lobs one from above the blue line way high and I stick my glove up to try and make sure it defects over the net, but I'm thinking, "That's going over the net either way."
WRONG. Fucker just drops like a sack of shitrocks (my best Mr. Lahey impression) behind me right in the net. It was totally one of those ball-busting shots, especially since it came from Scott and I knew immediately it's gonna take ages to live down.
But I realized on the way home, it was a blessing. Because it made me laugh and just settle down and quit being pissed that I was getting lit up. It was just like, "Okay. It's just a game. You're doing your best. It's not your night." I should have known when my leg pads fell in a huge puddle when I was unloading the car that it wasn't going to be my night, right?
And indeed, it was not. Ultimately 11 goals went past me, but I probably saw twice as many shots as usual. And I had quite a few nice saves.
Two stick saves on Scott. One that I just kinda batted away. Hot. And then one that dinged off the shaft.
The very first shot, which I don't think many folks realized I even got a stick on, was a really fast shot and I tipped it into the corner. Would have been a nasty way to start the game if that had gone in. I was proud of that one.
Made another save on one of Jess's shots with my head. Mask saves are a funny thing... you kinda want them to be hard because it sorta makes your eyeballs rattle around in your head for a second regardless of how hard it is, so if it's a harder shot, at least you know it will deflect further away from danger. I still prefer them to a hit anywhere in the shoulder or upper arm area. This is why I bought a good, heavy mask and didn't skimp. I LOVE my mask. Never had a shot that I couldn't shake off pretty quickly.
Anyway, I heard lots of, "great save" tonight, but lots of "tweet" with Luther's arm pointing at my net, so *shrug* I dunno. Just a really up and down night.
Had two brainfart goals. One that I HAD but didn't know I had it and when I lifted up a little, it popped out and it was a ridiculously easy goal for Jessica. Wish my D would communicate with me when I'm trying to freeze the puck. I'm wearing a lot of shit and I can't always feel the puck. Is that wrong to wish for? Now I'm second-guessing myself.
And one right near the end where, honest to god, I just zoned out. They were battling behind the net and I saw something shiny or thought about bacon or blow jobs or something and the next thing I know, Hot Shot's banged in a wrap-around.
Hot Shot, BTW, is this new guy on the red team who is GOOD and I don't think I've ever stopped him. He and Jessica were dangerous tonight. I think together, they had half the goals. Hot Shot must have had 5 or 6 points at least. I hate him.
Okay, I don't. But it's frustrating.
On the flip side, I actually felt like I worked my ass off tonight. I stayed consistently busy as the red team finally had the manpower to win battles and get it down in my zone and hold the zone. Lots of pressure and lots of shots. I normally feel a little like a spoiled, pampered goalie. Between the green team usually being pretty well stacked and the red team's better players taking pity on me, it often felt a little ... unrealistic.
Well, I got plenty of reality tonight and it's a helluva lot more fun, even if losing and getting lit up sucks. It was a blast.
I've mentioned before that I approach each game with a key to work on and tonight it was, if I'm getting lit up, to not hole up in my crease and play too deep. Stay high and confident regardless, and I felt like I did a good job of that. I had some positioning issues, but I don't know that any of them were because I was too deep. I didn't get sucked into the mental quicksand, so I'm proud of that.
Looong practice next week. And I get to pay extra for the privilege. Yay.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
- I have such a hard-on for these Bauer X-Rated leg pads. The design is just wicked. If I were buying again, I might have to insist on these. The adjustable knee lock and lifts sure would be nice, too, since my knee area is a little high on my current pads. And the 33+1 is probably more appropriate than the 34s I have. Oh well. Hindsight.
- Looks like I might get to replace all my funky (and I don't mean that in a good way) used gear soon. My shopping cart at Goalie Monkey has a new glove and blocker and chest protector in it. Plus a couple of "tall boy" water bottles so I can drink thru my mask. Just need the bean counter to say yes.
- Figured out why I felt so bad at practice last week: Panic attacks are back. Yay. Amazing how I'd forgotten all the signs, even though I battled them all thru my 20s, but that's definitely what that was. I don't think I'm panicking about playing goal per se, but the usual performance anxiety triggers the panic and I get all spun up. It's no fun at all. Gonna stick half a xanax in my pocket to pop if I start freaking on the way out there. Hopefully now that I've figured out the problem, I can control it without the happy pills.
- In the meantime, no more sodas or coffee for me. Caffeine. :( I love you, caffeine! It's not personal! You just turn me into a crazy person.
- It's really hot here. I keep having to change seats around the living room, like flipping to the cool side of the pillow, to escape my own heat.
- Not only is it Brusty's birthday today, it's Ken Dryden's. Every 35 years on this day a goalie I adore is born. I'm pretty sure those are statistically significant odds. No use in arguing with me on this point.
- Whitney Houston was born tomorrow. BOBBAY!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Things that are awesome about today:
- It's Friday
- My workout is done for the day
- My new running shoes are FANTASTIC- No pain at all while running, other than the janky hip that I already had from Sunday's practice
- I'm nice and sore from yesterday's workout
- Mr.C finally got some clarity around his job situation. We have a direction to go in!
- Hockey on Sunday is a game rather than a practice
- I get to go to the Isles v. Kings exhibition game in Kansas City in September... trying to figure out getting to a Wild pre-season game in St. Louis while I'm up there
- Someone sliced my blade tape in Sunday's practice so I get to re-tape my stick (this makes me feel like a real hockey player)
- A cold front
- Some way to make running the 3 mile Memorial Park loop more like playing hockey (OMFG, that's some boring shit)
- Getting my hip to be non-janky (send me your hip flexor potions, please)
- Chips, queso, margarita.... I said we'd eat at home tonight but I think I want to celebrate instead
- More cowbell
Wait, this post needs music. I love Will Smith, but I think only people from the north sing songs romanticizing summertime.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
I'm reading these Facebook updates from friends in the PNW and, while I realize they had a really awful hot spell and many don't have A/C in their homes... it's now in the 60s there. THE 60s, BITCHES, in AUGUST! OMF!
We won't see 60-nuthin' until maybe late September and that will just be the overnight lows. 60s during the days won't happen until late October.
But of course, the bonus is that that's pretty much where it sits for 4 months--cold enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay but not so cold that you need 4-wheel-drive. But here, in the thick of the heat, my grasp on that perspective is slippery with sweat.
I actually found myself losing my breath a little when I pondered what it would be like to step outside and not think, "Ugh. Gross." at the heat and humidity. That first crisp day each Fall is the best day of the year. I spend at least a month and a half daydreaming about that day.
I've been going through this cycle for 34 years and it never ceases to be mind-bogglingly awful right now and shit-flippingly glorious in October. It never gets easier, but you do at least accept that you'll go through these stages each year:
- Dreading summer
- Thinking summer isn't THAT bad
- Finding that summer hadn't really started and it IS that bad
- HATING summer
- Wanting to die
- Wanting to kill
- Wanting to move to Canada
- Football season starting and hoping relief is around the corner
- Hockey season starting and KNOWING relief is around the corner
- Blessed Fall arrives. Huzzah!
So, I'm just throwing it out there. Mr. C is traveling a bunch for work, and once #8 starts, I don't think he'll even know I'm gone. So just drop me a line.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Soooo, you mention sex and hockey and you get my attention. An interview with Ovie was released in which he said that sex before and after hockey is beneficial to his game.
You can watch the interview here, in which both the interviewer and interviewee seem to be bored out of their minds. I know Russians can and do laugh because I've seen it, but I'm starting to think it's about as rare as unicorns. Maybe this interview needed more vodka. Or less? Anyway...
In hearing this, I wondered if I've been neglecting some important part of game preparation and recovery. My game day routine is more like:
- Big breakfast to get some food in me before I'm too nervous to eat.
- Maybe a movie or something to kill time, distract me, and stave off the butterflies for a few hours.
- Good lunch, though the butterflies are starting, so I want something bland and carby.
- Maybe a nap if I'm not well-rested or the game is really late.
- A snack if I can figure something out that doesn't make me want to hurl.
- A couple of hours of wondering why the hell I'm doing this, who do I think I am, then reminding myself that at least I'm more fun to have in net than a cone or shooter tutor, and then getting angry because how dare they expect me to be all that good yet? Fuckers. Screw you. I'll show you! Bring it, bitches!!!
- Then I change clothes and load the car and head to the rink all the while breathing through waves of anxiety and thinking about what areas of my game I want to really concentrate on. Like, if everything else goes to shit, maybe at least I can do this one thing right.
I will say, I do want hugs (but just hugs, because I'm tired and smelly) after I play. I muster up all my "GRRRRR, I'm a tough bitch" mojo to play and by the end of it, I just want a soft spot to land. Mr. C does a good job of this, asking me how it went and being sympathetic if I'm feeling bad about it, and being happy for me if it went well. That's all I want. I'll do my own analysis later, but for now, just allow me to have my guard down and be fragile for a while.
So, Ovie's on his own with that sex stuff. Well, I very much doubt he's on his own, but anyway...
Meanwhile, over at the increasingly aggravating Wild Message Board, someone started a thread about this and honest to God, the thread is now 3 pages long and there are maybe 5 comments related to the actual subject matter.
And it's not like it's an uninteresting subject. Sex. And. Hockey.
For the love of god, people, you have a legit chance to marry these fabulous subjects without getting banned by the moderator, and you turn it into an argument about who's the better player, who's the classiest player, etc.
Honestly, this board will argue about ANYTHING, even forsaking a much more interesting and titillating conversation to do so. I do not understand these people. The only worthwhile comment in three pages of posts was, "20 bucks says he porked the reporter." Everybody wins!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Honestly, I thought that's what they were gonna be saying at my funeral on Thursday. I've never felt so shitty and had to play hockey. And it's not like playing out where you can just dial back and it doesn't matter a whole lot. It's pretty apparent when the goalie is wheezing her last breaths there in the paint.
I woke up from my nap around 6 and felt fuzzy headed and feverish. Got some food in me and then just felt worse and worse on my drive to the rink. Kept having to take breaks while I got dressed, I was so worn down.
It's a practice, so poor Scott's trying to get me to do some lateral movement work and my head is spinning like a top every time I stand up. One bonus of goalie gear is that it's pretty comfortable to just bend over and rest on your gear, so I spent most of the practice tonight like that, just praying for the Good Lord to come and take me already, or make me feel better (the preferred option).
I was dizzy and my heart rate was WAY too high and I couldn't settle it down which made me short of breath, too. My head was throbbing (and still is). Then when I finally do get some breaks where nobody's shooting on me, I'm breaking into cold sweats. Ugh. Just awful.
Finally with about 16:00 left in the scrimmage, I settled down and finally started to feel like I might make it off the ice alive. I made a few good saves... enough to almost-but-not-quite salvage the night... and then Scott scores on me. I'm gonna have his big ol' bobblehead mug, standing over me and grinning ear to ear when I close my eyes for a goddamn week.
What's worse is that I stopped the initial shot AND the first rebound but then Scott banged it in under my pad, which he says wasn't rotated. I don't remember it that way, but whatever. I'll loosen my pads next time and see if that helps them rotate, though I think mostly it was my total inability to focus.
First goal, I was just being lazy. No question. Stupid goal. The second was a bouncy little mother fucker. I don't remember it all that well. Kuny took the blame and I pretty much let him. I don't normally let my D get away with "sorry, that was on me" because I should get them, but tonight, fuck it. Yeah, take the blame. I don't want it.
I can't remember the others, other than Scott's. Were there more? Meh, 3 is plenty for 20 minutes, I'd say. We'll stop there.
Had some decent saves though. One on Jessica, that if she'd just given me a jab in the toe would have been a goal. I thought I had it, but didn't really know where. Somewhere on top of my pad or something. But they called no goal and she was pissed about it, which made me happy. :)
I'm not getting much ice time lately, so I hate to have basically wasted it tonight, but I was thisclose to just telling Dan to put the cone in and just turning around and coming home, so I guess if anything, it was good I muddled through it.
And the work I'm doing on getting my legs stronger is helping. I was up and down a bit and certainly feeling pretty weak all over, but I think my knee only hurt once when I was getting up. Felt good about seeing a little progress there, though I doubt it was perceptible to anyone else.
Hung out for a while after but am still feeling really crappy and run down. Tired but not sleepy. Or something like that. Typical Sunday night bullshit.
Heard a song on the way out there tonight that I wanted to post here but I can't for the life of me remember it. I need one of you peeps with an iPhone to just hang out with me all the time and capture songs for me with that app that recognizes songs for you. Screw putting man on the moon... that's some amazing shit.
Instead, I'll leave you with a link to all the new promos for It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is the skankiest, funniest shit ever and is resuming its 5th season in September. Can't recommend it highly enough, assuming you aren't very easily offended.