The golden retriever in this hockey player’s family has proven that yes they can. A couple of years back, I was out in the garage and noticed that the old bucket of pucks had been moved from a higher shelf to a lower one where our Golden had access to it.
The bucket didn’t look as full as I thought it should so I headed for the backyard where he hangs out and sure enough, there were several pucks in a “chewed” state. Some were almost half gone. Now to be fair, golden’s sometimes just chew and don’t swallow what they are chewing but I didn’t see a whole lot of puck shavings around the scene of the crime.
Filed under Dogs, equipment
Do you remember those weird floor hockey sticks they have used to have at schools back in the 70’s? You know the ones if you are old enough – round shaft, and a weird hooked-shaped blade? We use to use a little, hollow orange plastic puck with them. It was a weird thing trying to learn how to shoot with these suckers.
Here’s the thing – I tried finding a picture of these on google to link to and came up with nothing. Nothing! In an age where google always returns at least one thing that nails what you’re looking for, it came up with nothing on this front. Miracles never cease.
While driving on the 401 earlier today, in stop and go traffic (as is usually the case when crossing the top of Toronto on a long weekend), I spotted a single shinpad laying on the outside shoulder. I quickly asked my son, who was travelling with me, to snap a picture of it with his blackberry but he wasn’t that quick, so this will have to live on in fish-story form – true but unsubstantiated.
How does this happen? It’s like seeing a single shoe out there; not uncommon but weird. Did it fall out of a hockey bag from an open trunk? Not likely. Did it fall out of a bag strapped to a room? More likely. Domestic dispute?
Do you remember playing ball hockey way back in the day? I mean way back, prior to the invention of the now ubiquitous orange ball hockey ball. Back then, my memory tells me we most often used a tennis ball. Real pucks were for ice, sponge pucks were no good on any surface and sponge balls bounced hopelessly everywhere.
There were several variations of tennis balls that served our purposes though. There was the completely worn-down version that had no hair left on it. This was ideal because it didn’t bounce much and because it was hairless, didn’t stick as much on pavement and concrete as its hairy brethern.
If you didn’t have one of those (and typically you only did if you played ball hockey since these were no good for tennis), you had to settle for a newer tennis ball and if it came with a fair amount of hair still on it, it meant for one of those sub-par hockey experiences. You made do but it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. It was also made worse if the parking lot or driveway you were playing in happened to be wet. In that situation, the hairy tennis ball would get soaked and every so often, someone would have to yell time-out to step on the ball and squeeze the water out of it. You could tell that was required when the ball was skittering along the ground and water would shoot up as it rotated.
If you happened to be playing net when the game involved a wet tennis ball, even worse. It weighed more, and left big, wet, round muddy water marks on your coat, jersey, pants etc. Take one in the candies and it was time for a goalie switch since the wet ball weighed a lot more and thus carried more pain pay-load than a dry version. Many a garage door would bear the dirty, round ball marks of a hairy wet tennis ball if a kid took shots on his wet driveway.
I really thought I had things covered off nice and complete when describing the worst hockey feelings in the world in Shinny Armageddon and Shinny Armageddon II. However, I now have a new one that ranks right up there. Last night, badly needing my hockey fix as the weekend began to appear on the horizon, I got to RIM Park for my 10:30 pickup, got all dressed, headed out the dressing room door but before I got to the ice, the runner on one of my skates broke and fell out of the holder. Argh. CAPITAL ARGH!
Too late to go see Harry Potter with the other half of the planet, but wishing I had one of those freakin’ wands that I could point at and heal my busted wheel, I headed home then tossed and turned all night worrying about whether I’ll be able to get it fixed by next Tuesday night….(my next game).