Sometimes taking a bit of a break gives one some perspective. I’ve written a total of 4 posts in just over the past 6 years here on Rink Tales. Time truly flies. A couple of those posts were written about 4 years ago while my mind was hyperventilating with the prospect I might not be able to play again after a shoulder injury. One of the posts was post-Humboldt and writing something felt almost obligatory. And then there was a single random post last year where I kinda felt like I wanted to write again…but apparently didn’t.
Well, like Mario comin’ out of retirement in the 90’s, I’m ready to go again and am looking forward to flooding the rinktales ice with as many good hockey thoughts as I can come up with. This week was hot as heck but lovely as summer can be here in Southern Ontario and the smell of hockey just seemed to be in the air for me. I broke a skate blade about 2/3 of the way into my Friday afternoon shinny session, I started watching Letterkenny and bumped into a fellow WOHL’er this week where we traded stories of glory days past and to come. That’s an August hat-trick if there ever was one.
Stay tuned, we’ll be right back after the intermissions
I had a birthday last week. Nothing fancy about it and I didn’t play hockey that day. However, I did get an email from my older sister reminding me that I’m one year closer to not being able to bend over and tie up my skate laces. Touching.
I cannot imagine not being able to play.
Other than tragic life events like death of loved ones, sickness and plagues, etc., there are few moments as low as having to miss one’s hockey game because of work. Feb 28, 2013 lives in that particular infamy for this old pucker.
Strangely, Friday has always been a day without much hockey in my life. House leagues tended not to schedule much on Friday nights, although for a few years my son’s team used to have the odd practice in the late evening hours when the kids were older. High school hockey likewise didn’t schedule things on Fridays unless we were away on tournaments. I never played in any Friday night pickup leagues, although it is a night where a few of my buddies have played for years.
I’ve played hockey for years on Thursday nights (every year since living in KW in fact) and so it seems Friday is a day of rest, sort of a religious holiday for the game in my life.
But wait….there is Bart’s Friday afternoon University pickup game at 3:30 for a glorious 1.5 hours that I sometimes sneak out of work to get to. Great hockey, a great way to finish off the week even if it is a bit hard to get to, timing-wise. I only wish I could make it more often. Who needs a day of rest anyway?
What is the perfect pass? Is it better to give one than to receive one? Is it a flashy play that stands out and sets up a wild goal or an elegant dish from the edge of trouble that gets one out of a tight spot? Is a bullet that hits your mate in full flight or a feather that just make it to their stick, at precisely the right time and place, just out of reach of those trying to intercept? Ah, the perfect pass is a nebulous thing. Like beauty I suppose, it is in the eye of the beholder (stickholder?).