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.