Chapter 9

The Suburban House Wife Hockey Chronicles
Chapter 9
Friday, January 22, 2010

Song of the week: You Get the Glory by Kathleen Edwards, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1m69S1dfrak

Pre-game:
It is with sadness I have to report the Terrier and I ski as well as we skate. Both of us made a valiant attempt to keep up with the skiers but the condo and all the sofa had to offer was a better fit for us. However, if potato chip eating were a sport the Little Scottish Terrier would be a frequent Sports Illustrated cover athlete.

From the emails I have been getting from “The Manager” (who will from this date forward be referred to as “Sarge”) it looks like we are moving along with the pink jerseys as well as our team and rookie pictures. I don’t recall being asked to participate in the photo shoot or signing a release allowing the photo to hang in the store of our sponsor. None of this was mentioned as a possibility when I was asked to join the team. I don’t know where or when but I know that picture is going to come back to haunt me. It will be similar to what happened to the Terrier when her son found an old photo of her as a teenager hanging on the wall of our local rec. centre of her receiving her “Miss Fairvale” crown.

Some have suggested the coach’s interest in my marital status last week might have been a little flirtation. Not so I say. Without protesting too much, it’s not possible. This man has never seen me out of this second hand, miss matched stinking hockey gear. Not to mention I have no skill. I hug the boards and I ankle skate. The icing on the cake is the constant dribble of snot running down my face which I can’t do anything about because of the bloody cage on my helmet - this is not attractive by any standards. His attention was plain and simple pity.

I still have not sized Buzz. I must be attached to Woody even though he’s too small, not very mighty and never gets the job done. It should be my goal to have Buzz ready for next week. I also have to remember to bring my own tape. I ran out a couple of weeks before Christmas and I have been mooching ever since. Most girls don’t use it because they have jills that hold up their socks but as you are aware I have just been taping the socks to my legs.

Post-game:
I couldn’t find my long underwear I use for hockey and I didn’t want to permanently stink up a pair of my good ones so I ended up grabbing a set of Andrew’s to use. I’m hoping he won’t notice the new aroma of his stuff.

When I bought my stick I also bought several rolls of tape. I hung the bag in the closet. It appears my son has raided my stash. The bag was where I left it, with the receipt and the 25 cents of Canadian Tire money but the only evidence of tape was the plastic wrapping. Being late for practice, as usually, I looked around the mudroom for tape replacement. I ended up grabbing a roll of red electrical tape. Guess what? Electrical tape doesn’t stick to hockey socks or long underwear! No one seemed to care about my situation so I stuffed my socks in my knee pads and hoped for the best.

We now have two goalies. Neither one of them is qualified. At this age most of us have a difficult time with quick, awkward movements. Add the bulk of goalie gear and the end result is a net minder who goes for the puck, misses then lands belly up on the ice. The entertainment factor comes when she can’t get herself up. We don’t stop play to help her because none of us are trained. So, looking like a slug about to pop she has to wait for the coach to flip her and help her to her feet.

For one drill coach had us try to skate in big c-cuts up and down the ice while holding our stick in both hands like holding a tray just like Ovechkin does. RIGHT.

After drills “The Serge” has us divide into our jersey colours. Reds,whites, blues and blacks. After taking stock she divides us up. Reds and blacks as one team. Whites and blues the other. Poor little Terrier stuck on the white team. I on the other had have made it at long last to the red team. This is going to be good.

Gerrrrr. It can’t be. Blast it. The white team gets the first two goals. The Terrier has taken a defence position never leaving her end, but she revels in each goal like she made an assist. I was on the ice for both goals. Being -2 I decided to take up left bench again. As I was getting off, my replacement asked what position I was playing. I told her I was playing the position of running into and hanging off of the opposing players. Good luck. At 3–0, The Terrier skates by my bench taunting me, suggesting the red team’s winning streak was really about her. By the last whistle whites and blues were 4, reds and blacks 2.

I got the last laugh though. I suggested to coach that last goal wins. He agreed so..Red team wins again!!!!

Thoughts:
1. I need to get thin gloves to wear under my hockey gloves. Some players come off the ice in a sweat from the exertions. I don’t generate any heat from standing still or picking myself off the ice. It will also mean my hands wont smell like gross gear for the rest on the day. It takes about 24 hours for it to fade even with repeat washing.
2. Andrew’s stuff doesn’t smell too bad.
Cheers
The Pylon