An Interesting Technique

Me (#11) playing defence with a rather off balance stance in front of Sean (#33)

Wayne Gretzky once said:  "If you can't skate, you can't play our sport.  Skating is an art."

If I could do it all over again, I would have stuck with my figure skating lessons.  When I was a kid growing up in the 1960s, boys played hockey and girls figured skated.  My parents didn't prevent me from playing hockey, it never occurred to them or to me, that hockey was an option.  What was an option for me was figure skating and I hated it.  My lessons took place on an outdoor community rink, thus every Saturday morning in the winter I was bundled up to look like the Michelin Man and carted off to the rink to 'shoot the duck' and 'choctaw' with other overdressed six year olds.  My mother sat inside the community centre chatting with the other mothers, while I slowly froze to death as I tottered around the rink.  That the lessons occurred at all, were a result of my parents trying to be conspicuously fair and because I think my mother always wanted to figure skate.  By the age of seven, I declared I no longer wanted to figure skate and since it was taking all of my mother's energy to keep me practicing the piano, she decided the figure skating lessons could go.  In retrospect I should have stuck with the figure skating and let go of the piano, but seven year olds lack foresight and I didn't like the cold.

Well here we are forty-one years later.  I can play a mean Clair de Lune by Debussy, but I can't do a backwards crossover to save my life.  When you take up a sport later in life, you learn the basics, but that's all you really get.  You learn to stop (both directions, but like most players I prefer one over the other), frontwards crossovers (both directions, but like most players I prefer right foot over left, since it's something you can practice while pleasure skating), basic backwards skating (the C cut), then you move on to basic stick handling. 

Anooj (#15) & Brad (#18) in front of Sean

Some of the beginners that I started out with, have more natural skill (they're also younger, and truth be told, they practice more).  Hockey requires each maneuver to be performed with speed, agility, mobility, power, quickness, explosiveness and efficiency.  Brad (#18) in the above picture, has a natural ability, his technique incorporates the mantra that John preaches "Shoulders over knees over toes."

If you look at Sidney Crosby's stance, it stands in stark contrast to my own at the top of the page.  Crosby has had the benefit of a lifetime of training.  Today's stars fly down the ice at speeds unheard of even ten years ago.  Players who are agile and explosively fast dominate the game.  Crosby learned correct skating technique from the get-go!  Moreover he practice and practiced and practiced until the muscle memory was ingrained within him.  He doesn't have to think about force generation, center of gravity, acceleration, momentum, inertia, velocity, centrifugal forces - he just skates!

I lack the strong foundations upon which I could build hockey skills.  I sigh when I watch John effortlessly (OK it appears effortlessly to me at the time) accelerate backwards with efficient crossovers.  He knows and utilizes proper positioning, whereas I feel like most of the time I'm on the ice I'm the chaser in a game of "keep away".  John can shoot a wrist shot that hits the top corner of the net, whereas mine slides ineffectually across the ice.  John has technique from years of practice, Jamie has technique from practice and instruction.

I can play Rachmaninoff's C Sharp Minor Prelude, but I'd trade it in for a good wrist shot or the ability to do a backwards crossover!



That's Gonna Hurt!

My Forearm



The issue of head shots in the NHL has been in the forefront in the league and in the media.  I don't think anybody questions the role of contact play within certain levels of hockey.  Just because I've always played in a non contact league, doesn't mean I don't appreciate the level of physicality required to play in a contact league, of course the NHL epitomizes the level of play where contact is required.  Yet there's no doubting that players are now bigger and stronger and that their equipment is far more advanced than when the league first started out.  There is also a strong credo of masculinity that runs through the males that play in the NHL, visors are becoming somewhat more prevalent, but full face screens or masks are still seen as cowardly.  How many players will have to suffer career ending concussions or sight loss before a firmer stance is taken with regards to hits to the head?

Since I took up hockey as an adult and have always played at a low recreational level, I've never had to deal with the issue of body checking.  This is not to say that I haven't had to deal with various injuries that are a result of playing hockey.  As with any sport, sports related injuries occur, no matter how careful one is, but when you add in the speed and equipment that is worn in hockey, injuries and bruises become almost inevitable.  Somehow the puck seems to find the part of your body that isn't protected.  The above picture is a result of wrist shot by one of my own team mates, when I was crowding the net looking for a rebound.  My defenseman missed the net, but didn't miss me.  The following picture is of the inside of my friend's Julie's thigh, when she was hit by another strong shot from the point.

Julie's Thigh

Bruises are simply part of the game.  My husband doesn't even blink when he sees my injuries, since he played competitive contact hockey for years with equipment of far less quality, in his mind; the bruises are simply part of the game.  I must admit, that there's a certain satisfaction in showing off your injuries, it almost like we get to join into the world of masculine stoicism that purports you should just "walk it off."  I remember playing one game, in which one of our player's lip was split open by a puck deflection, it bled profusely and would eventually require 5 stitches to close it.  He wanted to continue to play and was only prevented by the fact that he wasn't allowed on the ice while he continued to bleed.

John was tripped when on a breakaway in one of our games by a slower player.  John is 6'4" and 240 lbs, that's a lot of mass travelling a long way to hit a very hard ice surface.  After the game we noticed his elbow was bleeding, both of us with our cavalier attitude towards hockey injuries shrugged it off.  I suggested he put a band aid on it, so it wouldn't get blood on his clothes (I didn't even offer to kiss it better).  He wasn't too concerned, saying that he had split his elbow open numerous times as a youth playing hockey and that it was just part of the game.  John played another two games with an open cut with just a band aid between his cut and his elbow pad.  Well lo and behold; he comes home from work one day with his arm completely swollen and red.  We ended up have to go to the hospital to get the infection under control.



John's Elbow



t took six days of intravenous drugs to get the infection under control.  He had to miss weeks of hockey before the cut managed to heal over.  He now wears super heavy duty padded and protected elbow pads.

Hockey by nature is a contact sport, even when you're playing in a non contact league.  Accidents will happen.  I don't think I'd want it any other way, but if you'll excuse me, I have to go put some ice on a bruise.

Say it Ain't So!

My Team (Wings) against the Ice Gators

(yeah, I know, who's on the point?)



There are few things that can get in between hockey and I, and one of them came up this past Friday.  I was scheduled to give blood, so off I went to the blood mobile.  The appointment had been scheduled long before I knew I would be playing hockey that night, so I treated the appointment like I did when I was dating (whoever made the date with me first, I would go out with, even if a better date came along later - this is not to say that that I was in huge demand when I was dating, but a girl's got to have standards).  The clinic didn't open until 4:30, so playing hockey at 8:30 just wasn't going to work, thus I went to the game with John to watch him and my team play.

The league is comprised of six co-ed teams and is ranked as being for low to mid level players.  Since John is really good and I'm really quite bad, I figure that we even out to a mid level player.  Of course such reasoning only works when we're on the ice together, otherwise, when I'm out there without him .... well, let's just say, I'm trying my best.  The games, when I play, always appear to be fast-paced, now that may be that many of the games, we've been short players and I get pretty winded, pretty quickly.  When I'm sitting on the bench waiting for my shift, I'm watching the play and cheering on my team, actually a lot of the time, I'm watching John, mainly because he's so good, that he makes it look effortless and because he's my husband, so I think he's great anyway.

John (see he does look pretty good)

Well, back to this past Friday.  I went to our game, but would just be a spectator, but oh my goodness, what an eye opener!  The last game in I which I was simply a spectator, was Jamie's hockey finals when he was in grade 12.  Let me tell that 18 year old boys, playing full contact hockey at the single A level are much, much faster than a Co-ed league of 25 to 50 year olds, playing non contact at the low to mid level range.  The whole game seemed to be played in slow motion, it was almost painful to watch.  What was even worse, was to know that I was one of the slowest players on the team.  What did that mean?  Did I play hockey in some vacuum of the space/time continuum?  I was aghast, to know you're not very good is one thing, to know you're that bad is another.

To be completely honest, I have no idea if we won or lost that game.  More than likely, we lost, since that is generally what our team does in this league.  I watched the play unfold and was dismayed by how rarely our team passed (John is the exception to this rule, mainly because he gets too tired if he rushes end to end), how rarely we could take a pass (maybe that's why nobody passes) and how rarely we got off a shot on net (John's the exception when he shoots from the point).  All in all it was a pretty dismal showing.

After the game, we met up with some of our teammates in the bar for a pitcher of beer (or two).  The conversation flowed, with those that had played enthusiastically talking about how well the game went.  Were they talking about the game I just saw?  Wisely, I said nothing, going with the "if you can't say anything nice" ... method. 

But once I started thinking about the whole process, I concluded it really wasn't about the level of play.  There wasn't a single person out there who would ever reach any level of hockey greatness.  They were there enjoying the game, getting some exercise and more importantly, enjoying an evening out with like minded people.  All in all, a very successful evening.

I've decided to schedule my blood donations on non hockey days - seeing as it's far better to participate than watch - which if you think about it, is true about most things in life.

Jumping on the Bandwagon

I was born and raised in Toronto (Ontario, Canada).  I lived a few years in Kingston, Oakville and Georgetown; I travelled throughout Europe and Northern Africa; yet I planted my roots in Toronto.  In fact, I live in a house about a block away from where I grew up.  Some might say that I lack an adventurous spirit; I'd say that I just know a good thing when I see it.  I love my city, I'm not immune to its faults and foibles, but I love its cosmopolitan vibe, sheathed in a conservative layer.  I've watched the city grow and develop.  I've trudged through the snow and slush, cursing the climate, but I have to admit I love watching the changing seasons, watching the trees change their colours is spellbinding.

One cannot live within the city of Toronto and not get caught up in the Maple Leaf Hockey Club hype.  The Toronto Maple Leafs are an institution unto themselves within Toronto.  The organization is part of the original six teams that made up the NHL in its infancy.  Since 1917 the Toronto media has had a love/hate relationship with the team, but even at its lowest ebb, it's been like a horrific car crash, somehow we've been unable to look away.  It certainly hasn't been all bad.  There were a few dynastic years in the 60s, when the team won three straight Stanley Cups.  Names such as Frank Mahovlich, Dave Keon, Tim Horton, Andy Bathgate and Johnny Bower made their presence known - names that now reside in the Hockey Hall of Fame (which of course, is found in Toronto).  The last Stanley Cup was won in 1967, the next year Frank Mahovlich was traded to Detroit, Horton went to New York and the dynasty came to an end.  The Hockey Hall of Fame is the home of the Stanley Cup; it's just that the Toronto Maple Leaf's name hasn't been inscribed on it for a long time.

The 1970s and 1980s were ugly years for the Leafs.  The owner of the team, Harold Ballard was more interested in his own power and position rather than building a cohesive hockey team.  Yet despite year after year of losses and rarely making it to the playoffs, the seats remained filled.  The fans remained loyal, more to the past than the present. 

The Montreal Canadians have probably the most rabidly devouted fan base in the NHL, yet their hearts are fickle.  When the Canadians are loosing, they're conspicuously absent from the arena, when they're winning, the love affair is rekindled.  The Canadians' owners know that they have to produce winners to produce revenues, that's never been the case in Toronto.  Maybe we're too lenient on our team, maybe there's really nothing else to do during a long Toronto winter, except watch hockey.  Yet even though the seats may be filled, Torontonians and its media love to bash the Leafs.  It's a conundrum to say the least.  We say we hate them, that they're useless etc. etc. but we pay ridiculous amounts to see them.  ($650 for a platinum level ticket, if you can get it).

In 2008 the Leafs hired a new General Manager, Brian Burke and with his hiring, a new life came to the Toronto hockey scene.  Slowly, but inexorably, Burke began to build a viable hockey club.  So far this season the Leaf's record is 4 - 0, which is fairly remarkable given their predilection for failure in the past.  Even more remarkable, is the number of people who are loudly declaring themselves Leaf's fans.  The bandwagon is presently rather crowded in Toronto, but that doesn't mean that it will remain that way.  I know very few rabid, die hard Leaf fans that will stick with the team through thick and thin.  Right now, the true fans are delighting in their team's victories, but are quite aware that glory is fleeting.

I remain ambivalent about the Leafs.  'Truth be told, I'm completely amazed by any professional hockey player.  Ever since I began to play the game, I've garnered a new appreciation for the spectacular skills that they hold.  Yet I find it hard to justify any professional athlete's salary, that is simply my own issue, and obliviously not one that is shared by many.  Thus I will continue my arm's length association with my hometown team.  I will giggle when I read my friend Anooj's Facebook comments that range from the raucous to the profane while he cheers on his team with multiple postings throughout a game.  I will shake my head when I watch Hockey Night in Canada and see how many seats are occupied in Toronto and how much money the institution makes. 

I think I'll let someone else have my seat on the Bandwagon.

A Picture Paints ...

The iconic photo of Bobby Orr scoring the winning goal of the Stanley Cup finals in 1970 is probably one of the most famous hockey pictures of all time.  I can't remember watching the game, though I probably did, since hockey was a mainstay of my family growing up.  There wasn't any other choice on Saturday nights during hockey season other than Hockey Night in Canada - I'm sure there were other TV shows, but none would have been deemed acceptable in our home.  The opening bars of Hockey Night in Canada can now be heard on TSN (I've never quite forgiven CBC for foolishly giving up the rights to that music), but since 1952, those notes of Dah da-Dah -da da (it's very hard to sing via spelling) meant that you were about to see some thrilling hockey.

It wasn't just Hockey Night in Canada were the action was.  I'm old enough to remember the first Canada - Russian Series.  In fact I'm old enough to remember the Cold War (which Madie thought was a war fought in the Arctic ... sigh).  I can clearly remember leaving my class to go to the Library to watch the final game and going crazy over Henderson's winning goal.

The Canadian win was a moment of intense national pride for Canadians.  Until that point, Russia had dominated most international events, since only amateurs were allowed to play.  The Russians had managed to neatly maintain the amateur status for their athletes by having them play hockey full time, though they were technically members of the military.  The '72 Summit Series feature the elite of both countries striving for dominance - Canada won!

Since I grew up in Toronto, I became a Leaf fan through default - it was simply the team I saw and heard about the most growing up.  I clearly remember watching the game where defenceman Borje Salming was knocked to the ice and was accidentally cut by another player's skate blade.

 Originally, the mode of thought in North America was that Europeans lacked the toughness to play in the NHL, Salming quickly put that issue to rest.  I have never considered playing the game without a facial cage for protection.

Through the 70s and the 80s the equipment certainly improved.

Who could ever forget Gerry Cheevers mask, that could have been his face?

Hockey photos aren't the only realm of how important the game is to Canadian.  Artist Ken Danby captured the essence of the game in two of his famous pictures.

I could probably go on and on, but I'll end here.  The game has produced so many heros, so many incredible moments and has entertained and delighted so many.   It's a game that requires sacrafice and dedication.  Maybe one day there'll be a photo of me ... but no, that's not why I play, I play for the fun, and because I play, I can appreciate all that I see about the game. 

Hockey in the Family



Family Hockey Game - John on the left, Jamie in the Centre &

Me on the Right

If you look closely, I'm missing my Right Wing - I think they saw I was facing off,

put their stick down and left



Our whole family plays hockey, which can mystify non players, but makes total sense to us.   The family calendar is a mish mash of appointments, reminders and most importantly, hockey games.  A year or two ago, it was even worse, since Jamie was playing at a competitive level in Toronto, which meant two games a week, plus practice, plus training.  John or I were constantly ferrying him to one location or another.  Then when I started to play hockey, I asked Madie if she wanted to play hockey too, she was 13 and I was 46, since (like the rest of her family) she's tall, she was allowed to take Adult Hockey Level 1, what we lacked in skill, we made for in enthusiasm.  After a season of training, Madie joined a Girl's recreational House League, I joined a beginner Adult League and John, bless the man, volunteered to coach Madie's team.  Jamie was now (on occasion) dragged out to watch Madie play, as she had been dragged out for so many years (John was a single dad for many years) to watch Jamie play.

As a parent, with a child in competitive hockey, one of the happiest days is when they obtain their G2 driving license and can now drive unaccompanied to their hockey games.  Jamie loved the independence of having the car on his own, and we loved the fact that we didn't have to spend another evening in a cold arena.  Plus as the kids get older, their start times move later, Jamie's games in his final year of playing, usually started around 10 pm, which was when I was getting ready for bed!

Things are a tad calmer in our household these days.  Jamie's now away at University and has chosen to play in a contact intramural league.  He's responsible for keeping his schedule organized which frees up a lot of space on our calendar.  Right now John and I are playing on Tuesday and Friday nights in a co-ed league.  I play on woman's team on Sunday night.  Madie plays on Sundays and Mondays (with John coaching that night).  When people call our house and can't get an answer, they always assume we're out playing hockey, usually we are.

My Mother in Law (Mary Lou) and her son (John's Brother) Doug

she gets the hockey thing



All family events are planned around our hockey schedule.  Luckily most of our extended family plays hockey too and understands the priority that hockey takes in your life.  When John and I were married, we chose to have a family hockey game instead of having a rehearsal party.  Since is was a second marriage for both of us, we knew the routine of "I dos", hockey was more interesting (and more fun).   When we set dates for Thanksgiving dinner or Birthday parties, the first consideration is everybody's hockey schedule.  Madie is now working her first part time job, and suddenly, since her season starts today, has to consider how she'll balance, school, work and hockey.   The parent in me says that school comes first; the hockey maniac in me says that hockey comes first; luckily her employer has a son that plays hockey too, so he gets the vagrancies of a hockey schedule. 

At the end of the day, it's all a balancing act.  If you can't find me or reach me, look in at the local arena, I'm probably there!

To be Thankful

Canadian & American Military Personal Play Road Hockey

in Afghanistan

photo:  Vancouver Sun

The Thanksgiving long weekend is about to begin.  As I type this, Jamie, my stepson, is boarding a bus to make his way back home from his first month away at University.  A cheesecake is baking in the oven (his favourite), in a few hours I'll put a Prime Rib in the oven to roast, prepare some risotto (another favourite of his), and make a cauliflower/cheese bake.  I may or may not have enough time to enjoy all of that before I have to take off with John for our Co-ed hockey game tonight.  We even have a keg of Heineken chilling in John's draft system that he received for father's day.  After the game is over, John and I will forgo drinks with the team, in order to hurry back home to have a cold one with Jamie.  To sleep peacefully knowing that he's safe under our roof.  Right now, life is good.

I have so much to be thankful about.  I live in an incredible country that provides me with so much.  I spent a long time back packing amongst Europe and Northern Africa when I graduated from University.  I had a chance to see so many amazing places, but I was content to return to my home, I could recognize even in my youth, the quality of life that we as Canadians enjoy.  I've travelled to many countries and have always been proud to pronounce my nationality.   I'd like to say a big Thank You to our armed forces that helps to keep our country safe, and who represents us so well around the world.

I'm incredibly thankful for my family.  I'm married to a man I adore.  His wry sense of humour cracks me up time and time again.  I've got two step kids that have brought me into the realm of motherhood, (whether I was ready for it or not).  They amaze me with their ability to adapt to our new life together.  Of course they're teens that do stupid teen things (I did even more stupid things in my day), but they're respectful, do well in school and argue like an old married couple with each other (I call them Mr & Mrs Bickerson).  Then rounding out this motley crew is Guinness, who we rescued from a shelter just over two years ago.  He's a lab/sheppard mix, he's obsessed with tennis balls, but gives us all unmitigated love.

The Ross/Mooney Family

I'm also thankful for my extended family.  My mom and step dad are my biggest cheerleaders.  My mother in law is supportive, warm, caring and has been known to enjoy a glass (or two) of white wine with me on occasion (or two).  My brother whom I spent my teens despising, I eventually discovered is an intelligent and warm person, I even had the delight of playing hockey with him this summer.  Of course there are numerous friends, both old and new who occupy a significant role in my life.  I'm thankful that Neil, my ex husband and I managed to save our friendship out of the ashes of our marriage.

I'm thankful that I'm healthy (knees notwithstanding) and that my family is healthy too.

I'm thankful that I discovered hockey and thus met so many incredible people, plus it gives a whole new meaning to "date night" for John and I.

I'm thankful for the beautiful home that John and I built.  That we're safe and warm at night, that we have plenty to eat (too much at times), that we can take the kids or just ourselves and travel to interesting places.

I'm thankful that Mom and Tom survived their bouts with cancer and pray that my sister in law does too.

When I go to sleep tonight, it won't matter if we won or lost our hockey game.  What will matter, is that John and I were able to play a game that we both love, together.  That we'll have both kids sleeping safely under our roof tonight.  I'll lay in bed, listening to John and Guinness snore softly and know that I am blessed, and that I am thankful.

A Colourful Collection

The Thrashers 2010 Semi Final Victory

Last night, John and I played shinny with our old team, the ice had been booked by another team and they were gracious (for a price) to share it with us and thus get some good hockey going.  It was great to have a chance to play for fun, get caught up and due to the fast pace, get in a good work out too.  John had a blast, since he played forward instead of his usual defence, I had fun, since I heard that some people were reading my blog!

Near the end of the session, I suddenly became quite winded and tired, so I went and took a rest in the penalty box.  As I watched the play unfold, I was struck by the diversity that I saw on the ice.  Growing up in Toronto in the 60s & 70s, hockey was undeniably a sport for the white male.  Of course Toronto in the 60s & 70s was predominantly Caucasian.

Cassandra Public School 1969 - 1970

My Grade 2 Class - Fairly Good Example of the Ethnic Make Up of the Area

I'm in the Second Row, 3rd from the Left - Back in the Days your Mother Made you Dress Up

for Picture Day

Last night on the ice, there was Frank, Scott, Jay, John, and Mat, but there was also Sundeep (Sunny), Anooj and Gurdeep.  Take a look at our Thrasher team picture at the top, there's quite the variety there too, within our team, we had Indians, Blacks, Asians and Caucasians all focused on a common passion of hockey.  I guess it's reflective of the changing cosmopolitan that we live in.  It's given John and I, clearly the oldest players on the team, a chance to meet a group of people that we'd normally never meet on a day to day basis.

Where else would you have a CBC producer (Frank), playing with a perfume entrepreneur(Anooj)? There's

Jay, who's trying to become a school custodian, playing with an IT Consultant from a major bank (Arek).  An aspiring model/actor (Mat) with a new shiny white helmet, playing alongside a consulting CFO (John).  I don't have a clue what Gurdeep does for a living, but I know he cheers everybody on, no matter what their skill level is.  I sat in the dressing room discussing teaching job options with Sunny, but overall, it didn't matter what everybody did for a living, or what their ethnic origin was; religion was a non issue, fart jokes received more attention.  What mattered was their love of hockey..

We started playing at 10 pm and went hard till 11 pm (and then some of the boys went hard on going out for a few adult beverages, but it was way past my bedtime).  Male or female; brown, white, black or asian; employed or unemployed;  none of that mattered.  What mattered was getting to the puck, setting up a play, blocking a pass, breaking out of your own end - that's what mattered to these people.

I think the world just needs a little more hockey!

It's not the Years - It's the Miles!

I’ll be 48 in 22 days.  When I wrote that sentence, I was going to be witty and say “I’d much rather be 22 in 48 days.”  Yet that simply wouldn’t be true.  I’m not one of those women who worries about aging, I’m more than happy where I am in life, I don’t need injections of botox, implants or facial lifts to aid my sense of self esteem.  Yes, I’ll admit that it’s getting harder to lose weight and the southerly migration of my butt and boobs makes me a tad self conscious in a bathing suit, but luckily I live in Canada and spend more time in sweaters and jeans, that can hide a multiple of sins.

To be honest, the only thing I’d like to have back from my 20s, are my knees (oh, I’d love my big hair back, because when I was in my 20s, it was the 80s … actually see me on a humid day and my big hair is back).

Sometime around the turn of this century (was that only 10 years ago?), a quasi rap song by Baz Lurhrman called Everybody’s Free (to wear Sunscreen), received some popularity on the airwaves.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTJ7AzBIJoI

The words came from a journalist called Mary Schmich (they were incorrectly attributed to Kurt Vonnegut), they were the kind of inspirational message that gets flashed around in cyberspace, you know that email that your friend sends to a bunch of friends and then they forward it on …

If you’re interested, catch the version on youtube.  If you’re young you probably won’t get it, if you’re my age, you got it long ago.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded.

But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked

I’ve battled, with varying degrees of success, my weight, for as long as I can remember.  I’ve made peace with the issue now, living a life of eating (somewhat) healthily and getting exercise (hockey’s a big help), but more exercise would be a bigger help.  I look back of pictures of me when I’m young and realize I was beautiful, and no, I wasn’t overweight the way I thought I was.

The best line from the song is this one;

Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone

I miss my knees.  The knees that played basketball, both in high school and university.  The knees that lunged for the ball playing squash.  The knees that played volleyball, baseball, curling and even took me parachuting.  The knees that backpacked across Europe.  The knees that have skied down hills and cross country.  The knees that completed an Olympic distance Triathlon.  The knees that walked my mother down the aisle after 21 years of widowhood.  The knees I’ve prayed upon.  The knees that take me up and down the ice with varying degrees of stabiltiy and grace.

I take two Glucosamine/Chondrotin tablets a day.  Before I play hockey I take two aspirins.  When I play hockey one knee is enveloped and supported in a brace.  After hockey I take a few medicinal adult beverages, and then I’ll take two arthritic aspirins, apply Voltaren, elevate and support my knees with a pillow and attempt to sleep.  Usually I’ll wake up because of the pain (sometimes it’s because of too many adult beverages).  I’ll repeat the aspirins and Voltaren (sometimes I repeat the adult beverages).

Right now I’m playing hockey three times a week between leagues and shinny.  Right now I’m in a lot of pain.  The other night in my co-ed game, I was hit by the puck on the inside of my thigh, right where there’s only the zipper and no padding.  I have a lovely bruise; it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as my knees.

I’m going to keep on playing hockey, and I have no plans of quitting.  I think I’ve got a few more miles in my knees.  I know I have a few more adult beverages in the fridge

Go Ahead ... Google Me!

I'm having a blast blogging.

You can google me now.  Go ahead, type "madwoman of hockey" into Google, and the first thing that comes up is me! 

Norton (virus software) even gives me a green check mark to say that I'm safe (it's like the new millennium's version of your blood work coming back OK).

I've been asked to blog on She Skates Hard http://www.sheskateshard.com/home.php  which is an awesome website geared towards female hockey players.  It's a bit intimidating blogging on there, because there's some really good players that are online there.  You know the kind, the kind that started skating before they could walk.  They play on competitive teams or at the varsity level.  Yet what I've come to understand about hockey, is that it really is a community spirit.  The encouragement has been awesome.

I never thought I wouldn't be working per say, at the age of 47 (25 days till I turn 48, John, if you're reading this and I know you will, that's 25 more days to buy me a present). 

When I John and I decided to join our lives, one of us had to move, since he was in Scarborough and I was in Oakville.  My job at the time, was teaching in Erin, which was 45 mins north of Oakville.  Now John had two young teens at home and I, well I had just me.  So it made the most sense (certainly if I wanted to have any kind of relationship with the two aforementioned teens), that I move to Scarborough.  For a year, I commuted between Scarborough and Erin, it was hell.  Thus I left my job in Erin and tried to find a teaching job with the Toronto board, but to no avail.  So I didn't actually retire per say, but, it sounds better that way.

The past two years have been busy.  Helping two kids with school, cooking, wine tasting, writing a book, day trading, travelling, taking care of elderly parents, golfing, training a dog and playing hockey, lots of hockey.

Now I get write about hockey.

Life is good.

Now you can google me too.  Go ahead, try it.  I'll be right here.