By Wyatt Earp | January 5, 2009
And apparently, Happy Gilmore is a better hockey player than I am. I don’t even have his amazing slap shot.
So, do you wanna know how the game went?
Well, I arrived at my “Happy Place” early because it’s been three months since I played, and I wanted to make sure I remembered how to put my gear on. (Don’t ask. I have a system that is both obsessive-compulsive and superstitious.) Our game was set to start at 10pm, and with fifteen minutes before game time, there were five of us in the locker room.
(For those of you in the South - or in Long Island, where they don’t have a real NHL team - ice hockey is played with six on the ice at a time.)
Finally, some of our late arrivals made it to the locker room - *cough* badger and Fish *cough* - and we were set to play . . . with a total of 8 skaters.
Let me ’splain something to everyone. When you are playing three 15-minute periods of ice hockey, you get tired right quick. A few shifts into the game, and many of us our bent over like Lindsay Lohan on a first date. So, when you have only three subs on the bench, you find yourself on the ice a lot. And in all honesty, the shifts go from 2 minutes - the ideal - to 4 minutes - not so ideal. By the second period, we were sucking wind.
That being said, we were playing fairly well. Team 22 has two unbelievably fast skaters, but other than that, they are rather average. Our fast skaters - besides Randal and Glenn - sat this game out. Apparently, there was an Eagles game yesterday, and a lot of the guys put themselves on the
injured drunken reserve list. Thanks for that, guys!
In the third period, we were ahead by a score of 3-2. Pay attention now, because here is where my suckitude comes into play. Halfway through the period, we won a face-off in our own zone. I went to the boards and was fighting an opponent for the puck, leaving my point (I play right wing) wide open. I knew it was a mistake, but I was the closest person to the puck at the time. The other guy wins the board battle and passes it to the point. The point I am supposed to be covering. I skated toward him as he was winding up . . .
Do you want to finish the anecdote, or should I? Well, for the benefit of Eagles fans, I’ll explain . . . slowly. Heh. The point player snared the puck and blasted a slap shot right past Badger for the game-tying goal. If I chose to slide in front of the puck, that may have saved the goal, but that thought didn’t really enter my mind until the puck was away. Frak-Up #1.
Late in the third period, Vincent Antonelli, Gusty and I skate up ice with the puck. Vincent gets it behind the net, so I set up in front of the opposing goaltender, while a defenseman is all over my back covering me. By the grace of God, the puck comes right to me as I am a foot from the net. The goaltender dives onto his side to block my first shot, but the rebound comes right back to me. All I have to do is lift the puck and I win the game.
Again, you want to do it, or shall I? I will do the dishonors. I get the puck on my stick, try to lift it over the goaltender, and instead - shoot it right into his stacked pads. And that would be Frak-Up #2.
We make it to overtime and no one scores. The shootout doesn’t come into play for our league until the playoffs. So, while we did end the game with a tie, I blew two - count ‘em, two - chances to help my team win the game. In the locker room, I apologized to my teammates for costing them the win and limped home.
If anyone needs me I’ll be crying in my basement.
Topics: Ice Hockey |