Hang gliding on a Dorito

Man, another crummy day. Been feeling lately like every time I solve a problem, whether it's work or hockey obligations or whatever, the solution just presents another problem bigger than the one before it. I was feeling pretty down today, but I had a game to play and I knew I needed it to shake off the dumps.

Then I get halfway to the rink and realize I left my stick at home. I knew the other goalie always brings two sticks so it would probably be okay, but it was more of that feeling like a colossal fuckup.

I get there and hey, look, it's Scott TFCG working with the prep goalies! I never get to see Scotty any more and he's one of my favorite people, so that was nice to have a little chat and that lifted my mood. He stuck around and played our drop in for a little while. I sucked at the start and let in a cluster of goals. I don't know if this was his intention or not, but he had a clean shot at me and put it right in my belly. I was grateful for the easy save and it calmed me down and I played better after that.

My second half was quite good actually, and I was happy to find that the pain in my leg is not nearly as noticeable tonight. It's still there but didn't distract me once I got confidence that it wasn't going to cripple me if I played fully.

What stunk was the pegs for the nets were missing. That's probably the best I've played with slippery nets, but man is that annoying. Only benefit: No blade dings. :)

Anyway, no dumb goals tonight, so I like that about myself, and I like myself and I have a lot of other great qualities as well.



The hot shot I call Crosby has been trying to score on me 5-hole for a few weeks now. He finally got me tonight when he dished a rebound between my knees as I was trying to move across. He was pretty pleased with himself, and I was pretty pleased that I'd made it hard for him. So to speak. Everybody wins!

As I was driving home, I had that all too rare feeling like all was right with the world. In fact, I really felt that from the time I got to the rink. I talked to my folks on the phone this afternoon and we were having a laugh when I said that I didn't think my body was real fond of the things I do to it lately cuz something's always hurting. Dad said, "Yeah, we really passed on those family athletic genes to you, didn't we?" Ha, yeah, the what now? Not an athletic person in the bunch. Dad plays golf. My uncle was a mascot in high school. That's about it.

Anyway, I stood there waiting for the zam to run and finish dressing and just kinda took in the scene around me. If you'd told me I'd be a hockey goalie even 5 years ago, I would have laughed in your face and told you to seek treatment. I dunno, maybe I make too much of this, but seriously, I was in band and the newspaper editor in high school. At the dog park, I throw the ball and the dog looks at me like, "That's the best you got?" I have really severe vision issues related to tracking a moving object.

I'm a writer, an artist, a nerd, a couch potato. I'm everything a goalie isn't and yet, here I stand with big leg pads on and literally twitching to get on the ice, knowing this is the most meaningful hour of my week. Rarely does a day go by where I don't marvel at the chain of events that led to this. I'm so lucky. Someone's looking out for me, that's for sure.

Nonnie, if it's you, can you work some glove hand magic for me?