Kassian dream, Subbing, Shaft saves, Mall hockey, S&M

There needs to be a word for those little dreams you have between snoozes on your alarm clock. You know what I'm talking about? I guess you remember them more because you wake up so quickly after them. They need a name.

I had a funny one this morning. In fact, I woke up laughing, which is the second best way to wake up, IMO.

I dreamed that I was in goal and Matt Kassian was shooting on me and I was stopping EVERYTHING he put on me. He just could. not. score.

So he started getting frustrated, not in a mean way, but really determined. Trying to pick the corners, fake me, freeze me, anything. Shot after shot.

Finally, I just stopped him by my net after a glove save and gave him a big hug and we laughed about it.

How nice is that dream? I'm an awesome goalie, I'm hugging a big foxy hockey player, and I'm laughing. I'm not sure it gets any better.

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Had a fun surprise last night of subbing for a group at Memorial City. Finally an ice time that doesn't have me up until 2 a.m.! Just a quick hour of hockey, but it was mid-afternoon before I knew about it so I wasn't as prepared as I'd normally be.

Like, I wouldn't have stayed out drinking until 1 the night before. I would have been hydrating during the day. I would have eaten more. On and on. So I actually got really light-headed with about 10 minutes left. So much that I went down on my knees just to make sure that if I did pull a Pavelec, I wouldn't have far to fall.

God, that would have been embarrassing. In a mall filled with holiday shoppers, with a new bunch of skaters, etc. Lordy.

Fortunately, I felt better after about 5 minutes of just praying they kept the puck away from me so I could gather myself (and they did, thankfully).

It's funny how different groups that play together a lot develop a style of play. At my Monday drop-in, there's quite a bit of work behind the nets and passing low in the slot, back door attempts, etc.

At this one (which has a very drop-in vibe, even though there's a ref) pretty much everybody just shoots the puck. Most of the passing seems to be done above the hash marks. So I got burned a few times cheating on the pass. I ALWAYS made the save when I just took the shooter and challenged them.

Not sure if it's always like that but that'll be my approach next time. I wasn't real happy with my game, but I never am when I play with a new group for the first time. Takes me a game or two to figure out the tendencies of the group.

I had a good time though, in spite of not feeling super duper. Nice group of folks.
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I've noticed that one save that seems to really frustrate shooters is with the shaft of my stick. It's such a small, narrow thing, it must really irk them when I flash the wood. ;)

Honestly, I'm not sure whether to attribute those saves (and I make them fairly regularly... more than glove saves, sadly) to dumb luck or some fantastical 6th sense. I'm telling my ego it's just a gift I have. But I'm pretty sure it's just dumb luck. Whatever. I'll take it.

Only problem is it nearly knocks the stick out of my hand sometimes, if it's a hard shot. The tape around the top of my paddle where I hold it has really helped with that though.

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It's always funny playing at Memorial City Mall during the holidays because at one end of the rink is the main entrance to the mall, with some activities, like a rock climbing wall, and some other stuff. Hell, I think Santa might even be back there.

They have tables and chairs set up right by the glass for people to have a seat and snack, so you get some glass bangers along with just amused onlookers.

 Last night someone was taking pictures. I kept seeing the flash behind me, and all I could think was that if this slow ass rec league is interesting enough for you to take pictures of it, you REALLY need to get to an Aeros game. The Aeros need to be advertising the shit out of that place.

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Stopped a hard shot with my bicep last night. Like, just stopped it cold. We're all looking around for the puck and it's just laying on my arm. O hai!

Anyway, not much of a bruise yet, but damn if those bicep shots don't hurt for days after. So much padding... so many bruises... It's amazing.

Pucks are just 6 oz. of pure sadism. And I like it.

In fact, is goaltending just one big sado-masochistic act? I mean, don't you feel like you've "really played" when you've collected a few ouchie spots? And isn't that a great feeling? Maybe you don't quite get off on it, but ... maybe you do a little? ;)

Maybe I just need to get laid. That's probably it.

Happy Thursday!

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Quick Hits: Emo Shutout Recovery, Shift-Shift-Shift, Hockey Wife

Feeling better after Tuesday's Emo Shutout Night. As Jarick posted in my comments, it's like a player getting his first goal in a losing effort for the team. Nobody cares except him. But the next goal could be a beauteous game winner. My time will come. I will get a shutout AND the W. Won't be long either. I'm highly motivated.

I'm percolating on an epic post about how hockey is my religion (and probably is for others, too). But my thoughts were reaffirmed last night when I literally thought, "Well, the hockey gods knew I wasn't ready for a REAL shutout. They're keeping me humble while building my confidence and teaching me to win."

If that ain't religious thinking, I dunno what is. Hopefully I'll sort that post out in my head sometime soon. I think it will be entertaining (and informative!)

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Another thing from Tuesday night: I realized that while I'm waiting for the puck to drop on a faceoff (that's not in my end), I shift from foot to foot over and over and over until the puck drops. It's like a cat kneading someone with its paws. It relaxes me, but keeps me moving so I don't get cold or unfocused while waiting around.

Wasn't a conscious decision to do that and I really hadn't noticed before (except when my old skates would hurt my feet), and I think it's from a combination of my skates being uncomfortable for so long until I got these new ones, and now my new pads being a little awkward to stand in. So instead of tap-tap-tap, it's shift-shift-shift.

I'm sure it looks pretty damn stupid but whatever. I'm the goalie.

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I mentioned this on Twitter, but wanted to expand on it here. I've been reading Brent Sopel's wife's blog lately and it's got more tooth than you'd expect. She really doesn't seem to hold much back. She drops f-bombs, openly complains about both the little annoyances (like Sopes calling her every 30 minutes... boy can I relate to that) to big problems, like one of her daughters being bullied at school. (She's adorable, too. I can't believe a kid like that is getting bullied. There's no hope for the ugly ducklings if that's the case.)

But she also seems like a sweet person and they have a nice relationship. You want to believe it's real, KWIM? Like, if they end up divorced one of these days, it'll be like, "Damn. Fooled me." And it's not all mommy stuff. She does focus on the marriage/hockey part of her life as much as the mommy part, and boy do I hate mommy blogs, so obviously there's enough good stuff there to get past that.

This is the first time they're living apart, so it's interesting to read about the challenges. Having been there and done that myself, I can relate to a lot of it. Not with a hockey player, but with Mr.C, who has been put through the travel/live apart ringer by his company.

One thing I realize reading her blog is that I'd be a terrible hockey wife. I'm high maintenance as a rec league goalie so I can only imagine how high maintenance a pro player is (especially a goalie... Tim Thomas's wife needs a blog). I hate to cook. I don't "dote" on my husband, at least not with any consistency. I'm too busy spinning my own plates. You know where the microwave is. Heat up your own Stouffer's lasagna, man.

I would say that, unless you're just into money, the ideal hockey player relations are sort of a reverse of the old "why by the cow when you can get the milk for free" adage. Why put up with high maintenance lifestyle of a hockey wife when you could just ... well...

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The Bitch is Back

My back aches, my groin muscles complain with every step, my glutes are sore.

I'M SO HAPPY!!!! :)

My return to the ice after 6 weeks of no hockey was a success. I played well, my team played well, and we stuffed the blue team in regulation 4-2. (We won't talk about that extra 4th period where I was the only goalie and had to play in the enemy net for the final 10 minutes. I understand and didn't mind, but yuck. What a mindfuck.)

I'll just bullet point this sucker:

• Highlight was stoning the best player on the blue team. Maybe he was taking it easy on me by not shooting high, but I stopped him on a big breakaway, and got a toe on several more of his shots. All good ones, but I was motivated. I wanted to shut him down. Beauty. That felt awesome.
• Took me a good 15 minutes to not feel like I was tripping over my feet. I was definitely a little wobbly, like those small muscles that deal with balance were out of practice. 
• I was surprised, however, by how strong my legs still felt. No biggie getting up from the fly, which is how I hurt myself initially. Made some big lateral pushes from the posts for a couple of saves. Real proud of those for reading the pass correctly. 
• I would say my rebound control was lousy but, frankly, it always is, so nothing new there.
• TONS of new people at novice, though some are quite good and probably should be playing C, unless they just like the easy pace of novice. It's great that this group is growing. I like my teammates. They were fantastic last night. And Mitch was there! Everything's better when Mitch is there. I think because he was always so nice to me during some rough early months when I was going to drop-ins and he was the only one I knew and he didn't pretend to not know me, even though I sucked so bad. I'll always love him for that.
• You need that as a new goalie. You need people to say, "Man, that sucked" and you need people to say, "Good save!" even if you only make one save all game. You need SOME air in your tires all the time or else, you have no motivation to keep going. 
• My knee hurt the entire time out there. Controlling that blade dug into the ice is exactly what my knee doesn't like right now. Felt like I was going to take my gear off and it was going to be swollen up like a grapefruit. But it wasn't. And it doesn't feel any worse today than it has the last 6 weeks, so I'm calling it a success. 
• The brace was absolutely no problem didn't even notice it. Don't know if it helped, either, but if I can't feel it, it obviously isn't hurting.

Here's the thing: I started playing goal because I had to. Like, if I hadn't tried to play, I would have looked back on my life when I'm 90 and thought, "Dammit. Why didn't I do that?" And really, when you feel that way about something, you KNOW you have to do it. You have no choice. You have to honor that instinct.

So to not play for 6 weeks, which I realize is not THAT long if you think about how long some guys go without playing, even as pros (*hugs Brusty*), was like a part of me was missing. Sure, I missed it less as time went on, but then as soon as work stress started to lift, there it came back again. I had to have it.

I've been avoiding this comparison because I didn't want to seem like I'm just trying to be shocking (which I'm not inherently averse to, but I'm quite serious about this), but I want to play goal like I want a good lay. You know the feeling I mean? Like you just need to get fucked until you're limp. That's exactly the inner tension I feel when I can't play for a long time. It's nasty. It's fabulous. And nothing else can scratch that itch. I had this one toe save, literally off the plastic cowling over the toe of my skate, that was worthy of a cigarette after. Heh. Yeah. Hockey is amazing.

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BEHOLD!

There ya go. No more "scrollingrealfast" down the page. We're making Grammar work for you, ladies. Atta boy, Grams. Stay thirsty, my friend.

Big props to Wrap for spotting the Animated GIF beacon I sent up and busting this beauty out. You rule, as always. Go Chiefs! ;-)

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Brain litter and more goalie porn!

Here's a post that demonstrates why Dan Ellis, Preds goalie and goofball, is my favorite NHL Tweeter. As usual, goalies represent and Mike McKenna is likewise the best AHL Tweeter. He was sewing up his dog's toys with dental floss the other day. Christ, that's adorable.

Don't be afraid of the Tweets, my friends. Twitter is fun. And anybody who harshes your mellow? You just unfollow their tweety little asses. Thank God for that. Of course, that goes both ways, doesn't it? :)

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Speaking of goalies, Backstrom is hurt, Harding sucks, Brusty is broken. So, could Khudobin go to Buffalo, Dubie start in Houston, and Scruffy get a call up? Oh my.

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And now for something completely different. This is a masterpiece of cheesiness that just seems worthy of .... something..Probably NSFW, but still relatively tame all things considered.





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John "Grammar" Grahame was back in action in Milwaukee Wednesday and Chris "No Homo" Jerina was a good sport and snapped a few more money shots for our enjoyment.

"Goalie hard work. Grammar thirstyyyyyy..."

"Mmmm... nom nom nom"

"Ahhhh. Okay, camera guy looking? Here we go."

"See how hot Grammar is, ladies?"

"You gettin' this, picture boy?"

"Just reinforcing how hotttttt Gramar is. Am I steaming?"

"Ahhhh, ready to get scored on some more"

Seriously though, Grammar, swallow some of that water next time.

Oh and if that wasn't enough, just to finish 'er off:

Ohhhh sweet Grammar Grahame. Thank you for amusing the goalie lusting faithful with your thirsty, hot, wet, flexible, camera-friendly self. I don't care how many goals you let in (but seriously dude, that was a lot), you're still a winner in my book.

And as always, many thanks to Chris "Aim to Please" Jerina for the photography.

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As promised.... goalie porn

Though it's not who I thought it would be.

John Grahame, recently signed by Lake Erie because both their goalies are out with injuries, apparently has the whole "goalie making love to the camera" thing down really really well. Color me surprised, and delighted that Chris "Enabler" Jerina caught these battery burners.

Wait for it...

Wait for it...

Wait for it....

Ahhh, money....

Other side...

Dear Baby Jesus,

Thank you for goalies.

Love,
Ms.C

P.S. And cameras. And accommodating photographers. 

All photos by Chris "Accommodating Photographer" Jerina

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Your Sunday Battery Burner....

Giggity.



Giggity.



*shudder*


*ahem*

Goalie Porn by Chris Jerina, to whom I owe undying gratitude for finally capturing Ben Bishop's pre-period stretch on camera for me.

Sweet mother of giant bendy goalie...

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Rabbit Stew

I must be bored because normally I avoid the whole "puck bunny" vs. "real fan" debate, but honestly, sometimes the "real fan" proponents are even more annoying than the puck bunnies.

Not sure why that is, other than the "real fan" women feel the need to make strident arguments defending themselves while trashing someone else's choices in the process. "Be a hockey fan the way *I'm* a hockey fan or it's not valid."

Whereas "puck bunnies" really don't seem to feel any particular need to defend their behavior. They seem to know it's silly and tacky and don't really give a shit. Party on, Fluffy!

Look, here's part of my experience and why I don't get too hung up about bunny behavior: Some day you're gonna be old and married and if you don't have some naughty fun to look back on fondly, you might regret it. I think you need to know that wild child is in there somewhere or the most exciting part of your life is gonna be the new season of Project Runway.

And I'm not saying go be a fool. Actually, I'm not saying do anything in particular at all. We've all got different stuff that drives us, thrills us, entertains us, gnaws at us. If you wanna spend your youthful energy as the post-game buffet for a beefy hockey boy, more power to ya. Spend it however you want, but... go have some fun, just for you.

Still, neverminding my cougar lamentations, my point isn't to defend puck bunnies as much as it is to say this: I know we kinda think guys are all a little... simple. And in a lot of ways they are. And it's a joyous thing and why I adore men. They usually mean what they say, assuming you haven't hen-pecked them into silence, and that is a blessing.

But simple =/= stupid. Any man worth knowing can tell the difference between a woman who is just at a hockey game to attract some hockey beefcake and a woman who is there to watch hockey.

In fact, I would say that with the men I know who understand my passion for the game, I can dish up the most redonk crushing on a player, but they don't ever question my heart for the game. The hot boys are just window dressing.

And any guy who is calling you a puck bunny when you haven't exhibited puck bunny behavior is doing it to irritate you.

Let me say that again: He's doing it to irritate you, because you're being uptight and it's fun to poke at women who get uptight about other women.

So here's the question I have. Why do you need the validation of male hockey fans at all? Why do you worry so much about how female hockey fans are perceived by men? I almost get the sense that it's a female form of "machismo," this need to prove oneself to ones challengers.

I can tell you, after spending LOTS of time around hockey people, mainly men, that their opinion of me is 100% driven by my behavior. Not that of some other woman. That would be pretty retarded to look at the "Marry Me Sidney" chick and think, "Oh, so all women are here for the hot boys." And why would you even engage with a guy who thought like that anyway? That's why god gave us middle fingers.

Just be who you are, surround yourself with quality people, stop worrying about what the men think, and enjoy the game the way you want, in a way that's meaningful for you. Have the confidence to be your own person without needing to prove anything to anyone.

And to make it fair, quit worrying about what other people are doing while you're at it.

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Waxing poetic (again)

I dunno what it is about this week. The gallons of cough syrup, the lack of oxygen from coughing, not having my own playing anxiety to worry about?

Whatever the case, I'm so in love with the game right now.

It was nearly 13 years ago that I saw hockey for the first time in person. It was the Austin Ice Bats, who played in a drafty barn (literally) out East Austin. They were in the Western Professional Hockey League at the time (which later merged with the current Central Hockey League) and the quality of hockey could be described as "rec league with fighting."

But I sat there with my jaw in my lap, completely enthralled. The skill evident even at that level of the professional game astounded me. The grace and speed and incredible toughness. I was hooked on a sport for the first time ever.

And now that I've spent the last 3 or 4 years logging countless hours watching hockey, playing hockey, writing about it, I can still watch a guy skate, his blades cutting into the ice on sharp turns, leaving a fan of snow in his wake, and be awestruck by how simple and beautiful it is.

It's a testament to the game that we can still muster that kind of awe, no matter how long we've been fans of it.

And I don't think there's ever been a night where I sat down with my Center Ice subscription at 6 and didn't get up at 11 or 11:30 after the last game thinking, "Man, what a fun night of hockey." Even when my team stinks it up, someone else is out there doing something amazing.

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Man, what a fun night of hockey.

Seriously. The Wild/Preds game was very entertaining and while I'm still not anywhere near ready to say who won that trade, the pick-up of Lats, just on its own merit, has been a game changer so far. That line of Clutterbuck, Brodziak, and Lats has just been dynamic.

What I didn't expect is how much fun Lats is to watch. He's so big and strong and has terrific hockey sense and goes. to. the. net. Imagine that. Most guys twirl around the top of the circles, but the big dude just barrels in there, guns a'blazing, and creates chances. Color me impressed. It's like if Matt Foy had a brain and a sexy French accent.

The trick is, of course, to sustain this kind of jump after the honeymoon is over, and that's always the hard part.

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Another weird game for the Blades tonight in Toledo. Via the power of the internet, I've connected with both the team's beat writer for the Napes Daily News, who does a great job covering the team, and a fan who has a blog about them (http://swamphockeyfl.blogspot.com) and tweets them (@swamphockey).

Her nickname for Mike Morrison, "the other goalie" along with Brusty, is Rebound. Now, I haven't see him play to properly verify that the nickname is warranted, but it's funny enough that I just don't care; I'm calling him that anyway.

So, Rebound started the game but faced a lousy barrage of shots in the first period, letting in 2, and then he let in a third early in the second period and got the hook after 25 total minutes. Not sure what's in the gum Coach Cameron is chewing but he sure seems over this whole "never pull the goalie" hangup for which he has a reputation, unless maybe there was a bit of an injury in there.

Anyway, Brusty went in and shut. them. down. They had some great chances and he just got a toe or a glove or an elbow in the right spot to keep the puck out. Really great job out there.

Unfortunately, that vaunted offense of the Blades could only put two past the Toledo netminder and Morrison takes the loss. Pobrecito Reboundito.

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Keith Ballard broke another goalie (Craig Anderson) tonight. Wasn't his fault, but man, talk about a guy who needs a luck upgrade. If I'm Clemmensen or Salak, I'm getting a 10 foot restraining order.

Speaking of Clemmers, what do you think of his bright yellow stick?

I have to admit, if the yellow matched the yellow in his gear, I'd like it. But it's too bright, so I can't quite get there. But I appreciate his embracing the complete obnoxiousness of the Panthers' colors and being bold and different. Also... sick poke check in the shootout made even sicker with loud yellow stick. I unequivocally approve.

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Someone just searched for "goalie helmet sex paint jobs" and got my blog. I'm definitely doing something right here.

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Intent to Blow and Other Quick Hits

God help me. I love the innuendo of hockey.

Now, I know as a fan of the game I should be upset about that whole deal with Brad May's goal not counting, because it was clearly a goal and the goofy "war room" system failed big time here, but:

1. It's Brad May. Not that I wish him any serious ills, but getting screwed out of a goal? Yeah, I'm okay with that.
2. When I played that Toyota Center game, I had at least two goals EXACTLY like that waved off. I mean, those bad boys were IN the net but just behind the post and hidden by the toe of my pad. Ref: "Was that in?" Me: "Nope." *smile* Hey, I was getting lit up and not feeling very sportsmanlike.
3. I have many times had my bacon saved thanks to the official's "intent to blow." In fact, you might say intent to blow is a goalie's best friend. Well, after the posts and shot-blocking defensemen.
   
4. It's Brad May. Who gives a shit?
   
5. It's the Red Wings. Weren't they due for looking human? I'm rather enjoying it.
6. It's Brad May. Meh.

BTW, I recognize that I'm a day late with this and we've all moved on to the rather hilarious (assuming he's okay... if not, it's just secretly hilarious) cartoonish way in which Derek Dorsett fell down, went boom after James MFing Neal tapped him on the shoulder. Or the embarrassing fight among idiot Ducks fans over Nieder's stick. But I don't want to talk about either of those things.

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I hope Kevin Weekes gets better at the TV thing. He's very handsome and belongs on TV. Just maybe not talking. Maybe just have the flat screen with highlights and him smiling and gesturing at it like Vanna White.

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I find myself rooting for the Ducks these days because I have so many Ducks players on my fantasy teams. In fact, I traded for two of them just this week. Added Selanne and Getzlaf on two different teams.

I'm starting to heal my relationship with that team now that Pronger is gone, but I still feel a bit dirty. Hiller's pretty coppery mask makes me feel a little less dirty.

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L'Oreal quit making my hair color. This happens to me every few years and I end up in the hair color aisle of every CVS and Walgreens in my area staring desperately at the spot between blond and brunette where the reds are and holding back tears.

I'm not a particularly vain or girly girl but you get the wrong color of red going and it can really go south. Too orange and you look like Bozo the Clown. Too purple and you look fake, trashy, and ruddy. It's tough to get a natural-looking red, even if you go to a salon. I've only ever had one stylist who could do it right (and she was a red herself so she "got" it).

Anyway, the Fake Redhead Gods threw me a bone, and the next closest color is actually just fine.

Another bullet dodged.

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I still love you, James MFing Neal. Don't do that again, but you're still my second favorite forward in the League.

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A lot of good hockey last night, as I watched marathon-style from 6 clear until the brawl for Niedermayer's stick ended, including listening to a CHL game on my computer. In the extremely unlikely event that there a) is a heaven and b) I end up there, it will just be me in a river of hockey games, with Kevin Weekes waving his arm gently at the one I'm watching.

But here's my conclusion: You can't tell me scoring isn't absolutely perfect right now. They need to stop right where they are with the goalie gear regulations. This is truly a ridiculous path they're on. What is it with the inability of the NHL to say, "Hey, we were wrong. Let's go another direction with this." NHL hockey is just damn fun right now. Don't change a thing.

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I worked out for the first time in, like, 3 months last night. Ever since these 3 in 3s started, I've been sore clear until Saturday, so I have been lazy Wed-Sat. But yesterday I did a bunch of squats, some shoulders and some abs.

OMG my legs hurt. In a great way though, other than every time I rolled over in bed, I woke up from the pain. Still. Great stuff.

Though a perfect world would be getting to play every other day and never have to do a real workout. It's so boring, I won't even tell you the little games I have to play with myself to keep motivated.

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Aeros game tonight, but I'll be missing it other than on the radio and John's tweets. The good thing is that Mr.C is coming home after being gone two weeks. Thank god!

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Since I don't smoke...

I didn't finish my work tonight, nor did I watch Calgary/Vancouver, but I did get that mascot gig in Hawaii, so that's something. Suh-weet! Feeling much better...

But I'm wide awake now and in a pretty good mood. I hate to waste that on my actual job, so I thought I'd blather on a bit here.

I did watch the first two periods of Leafs/Habs after the relentless pre-game ceremony, during which all I could think was "OMFGDROPTHEFUCKINGPUCK!!!!! DROPITDROPITDROPITDROPITDROPIT!!!!!!!"

I had it on mute, so if it was moving and worthy of so much time, then I apologize to you, Canada. You know I love you, baby. I'm sorry I yelled. Here's some flowers.

It just sucks when they show the players, who are fired up and ready to go, yet they have to stand there during all this blue carpet crap. I'm just thinking of the boys. Someone should.

Speaking of which, tonight Mr. C got sarcastic with me about something and hit my Pissed Off button pretty hard. He realized his mistake quicker than I've EVER seen him do and said, "Sorry."

I'm still glaring at him.

"Sorry!"

Glare.

"Sore-y!"

Smile.

All this time, if he'd just talk to me in Canadian, I'd never get mad at him. If he'd wear hockey gloves and a carry a stick around, he might never get to leave the house. Rawr!

Oh, hey, check it! Pics of me playing goal. These are the only ones where I even look remotely like I'm doing anything I'm supposed to be doing. All the rest, I'm incredibly out of position or way deep in my net. It's horrible! I can only imagine how much video work would help me, but I'm too chicken.

Keeping an eye on the puck along the boards. Should probably have moved forward out of my net by now.

What's going on here? I look like I'm doing some kind of animal impression. Rabbit? (Shut up.)

This is the part where Scott TFCG would be screaming "GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP!!!!" at me.

Am I an ad for RBK or what? Pads, gloves, stick. My pants are RBK, too.

I'm guessing I could get a non-endorsement deal from them. Like, "We'll pay you to stop wearing our gear." Fine. Pay me enough to get some Bauer X-Rated...

Anyway, thanks to Deborah, Jessica's aunt, for coming out and shooting our game a few weeks ago. And for not publishing any shots of me getting scored on. :)

Alrighty. Should probably have a snack and get back to work.

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Sex and Hockey

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:

1. Big breakfast to get some food in me before I'm too nervous to eat.
2. Maybe a movie or something to kill time, distract me, and stave off the butterflies for a few hours.
3. Good lunch, though the butterflies are starting, so I want something bland and carby.
4. Maybe a nap if I'm not well-rested or the game is really late.
5. A snack if I can figure something out that doesn't make me want to hurl.
   
6. 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!!!
7. 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.
   

And I don't see anywhere in there where I'm wanting to have sex. Tried a little self-help once and that actually had the reverse effect and I felt and played worse than usual. Which is really saying something.

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!

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