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Posted by iceman88 on Friday, July 09, 2010
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There’s something special about hockey boys, no matter how old they are, or who they play for, whether they’re trying to make it pro, just living the dream for another year, or reliving the past glories in men’s leagues. Everyone who plays hockey shares a bond, a connection with everyone else who has ever laced ‘em up. Everyone who missed Fridays in middle school for road trips, everyone who moved away from home at 16, everyone who’s struggled to get out of bed for 6am practice, everyone who’s gone bardown from the top of the circles, and everyone who knows…how you look is just as important as how you play.
People outside the circle just don’t understand. They don’t get the culture – the chirps, the chews, the brews, the babes, and most importantly, the game itself. Other guys try to fight us, girls think we’re cocky assholes and are disgusted when we pack a lip in the back of class. But we all know that there’s something special we share from all the blood on the ice, sweat in the weight room, beaks in the locker room, and laughs at the bars.
Half the reason people don’t get hockey players is because they have no idea what we’re saying. One time we’re talking to these girls at the bar, and our goalie starts slurring in his Alberta accent, “So I’m chirpin’ this plug for his bender boots..” The one broad looks at me like what-did-he-just-say, and I tell her, “He was beakin’ a guy for his dusty wheels…uh I mean he was making fun of someone for having bad skates” Not the first time it happened, and it definitely won’t be the last. If someone listened in to a hockey team talk for a day, they’d have no clue what’s going on. Snipe, dangle, wheel, duster, gongshow, chirp, the list goes on. We take it for granted, but it’s another thing that separates us from the rest.
The hockey lifestyle makes us one-of-a-kind. Our priorities are different, we are consumed by the game. Early morning workouts, late night praccys, and weekend road trips make our schedules different from everyone else. How many times has someone talked about a party on Friday night, and you had to say “I can’t….I have hockey.” Still, we all know it’s not just about playing the game…it’s about living it. When we’re not at the rink, we’re probably playing NHL10 on Xbox, watching a game on TV, or reading about trades online. Or else we’re posted up at the bar with the beauties on our team. Everyone flocks to us, the owner sends over free drinks, and we run the place. When you wake up, you swear she didn’t look this bad last night, and plus hey, it’s for the story in the locker room anyway. As hard as we work, we play just as hard.
Hockey teams are different from teams in any other sport. Our team is our family, our brother who we’d do anything for. Good hockey teams are built on hard work, loyalty, respect, and sacrifice. I know I’d do anything for my teammates on or off the ice, and I’m sure most hockey players would say the same about their team. There’s something special you share with the people in that locker room. The stories, the laughs, the blood, the tears…they all go into making that group. After a season-ending loss you’re sad and pissed off, but the next day is even worse when you realize that you’ll probably never play with that exact same group of guys again.
Even the best players in the world are the same as the rest of us. The Ducks were practicing at the rink before our game one time, and they’re exactly like us, just a lot better and a lot richer. Ryan Getzlaf, a Stanley Cup champion, absolute slampiece, Gold Medal, All-Star, everything, cellied after every goal and would chirp whatever defenseman he walked then the goalie he sniped. Yeah, they’re in the show, but they play hockey for the exact same reason as us…they love the game. NHLers are always talked about as the nicest pro athletes, cool people, and good to hang out with at the bar. One time we were out in St. Louis, and I was wearing a Gongshow hat. Next thing I know, Patrik Berglund sees the hat and asks if I’m a hockey player. We talked for the next hour like we were best friends.
Hockey players are the same no matter where you go. And it’s the same at all levels, NHL, minors, NCAA, CHL, midgets, high school, ACHA, it doesn’t matter. All the kids livin’ the dream, all the kids trying to make it, all the kids who play just because it’s what they’ve done their whole life…we all share something special. We share a lifestyle, we share a culture, we share a language. Girls might get pissed at us, guys might try to fight us. People will say we’re arrogant, selfish, and that we’re assholes who think we’re better than everyone else. But ya know what? We play hockey…so we are better than everyone else. |
Read More... | 5 comments |  | Score: 4.46 (488 reads) |
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Posted by Bennythetender on Tuesday, May 18, 2010
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I wrestle with my bag, as a juggle my pads and sticks. it doesn't help that the home town rinks parking lot is icyer the the rink its self. it so cold out, and the wind blows threw my team mandated dress pants. The puck doesn't drop for two hours, but its a routine, my routine. The lobby is empty, and only half the lights are on. i head down the long hall way under the empty stands. it sounds like and empty cave. but in two hours it will sound like a roaring ocean, filled with music, people voices and shuffling feet from the rafters above. my back and arms ach from the weight of my gear, so i kick open the door to the dressing room. the lights come on automatically and i drop my gear infront of my spot. Same spot every time. i now i have 30 mins alone, to breath in the atmostpher, to go over the possiblities. i sit. i close my eyes. i invision.
top of the crease. square to the shooter. mind your post. left point shot angle, left foot to blue line dasher, right foot blue line dot. one foot out top of the crease. right side point shot, same, right foot blue line dasher, left foot blue line dot. one foot out of crease. Adjust accordinly. glove up, stick down. the boards are lively, glass is dead. take the shooter. talk to the defence. comunication. paddle down, legs closed. #7 hard shoot, ususally low blocker. # 76 toe drag back hand. # 4, sets up on back door.
for the next hour and a half, i repeat that in my head, adding more and more information. playing out senerios. reviewing past tilts. i start putting on my gear as the boys show up. i keep to myself as i go threw my routine, and listen to the guys telling their stories. i know i don't fit in, if i fit in i wouldn't be a goalie. the noise of the crowd grows and grows, and the boy start settling down, getting their game faces on. i have already played 3 games in my head. i am almost ready. coach gives as the game plan, reminds us of our mistakes and threatens suicides to who ever disobayes. he says nothing to me, he just nods. the buzzer goes and we hit the ice. |
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Read More... | 3 comments | | Score: 2.5 (389 reads) |
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Posted by 11Peter11 on Tuesday, October 27, 2009
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"Up and at em!" your jolted awake and slightly confused. Then everything hits you at once. Its five o'clock on a Sunday morning and you have practice at 6:00. You slink into the kitchen where Dad is cooking up breakfast. "Gear ready buddy?" wiping the goo out of your eyes you grunt something that passes for yes. On the ride to the rink you're in and out of sleep and wish that you never got out of your warm bed. Carrying your gear into the rink a shiver shoots through your whole body, its freezing. You wait by the gate itching to get on the ice. Cold wind flows by your face as you jet around the ice with the rest of your team, no regrets, this is the best feeling in the world, you're fully awake and anxious to play the game you love.
Too some people hockey is just a game, but we who play the game know better. It is a lifestyle that stays with you forever. Whether you're a coach, player, or just sitting in the stands you will stay with the game until the day you die. |
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Read More... (1.48 KB) | 6 comments | | Score: 4.76 (1558 reads) |
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Posted by sedy77 on Tuesday, March 24, 2009
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Well boys, it’s been a while since it happened, but I still think you guys should hear about it. This is about the shit that happens at rinks across the country. From crazed hockey dads jumping on the ice, to fights in the stands, hallways, and in the parking lot; hockey has always had that intensity that seems to bring out the best, and the worst in people. We’ve all been in games that you look back on and realize “Holy shit that was dumb”, or “That was unreal, we really showed our pride on that one”. But sometimes, things just go too far. |
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Read More... (4.21 KB) | 12 comments | | Score: 4.25 (1992 reads) |
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Posted by senny1-4 on Wednesday, January 28, 2009
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Since 2006, hundreds of beauty's, benders, aging vets, and hockey enthusiasts alike have gathered in Minnesota to brave the frigid cold and gusting winds to take part in the oldest, and dirtiest aspect of the game we love and cherish so much. Of course I'm speaking of the U.S. Pond Hockey Championships. From Hockey Hall of Famer's like Phil Esposito to the average lad with nothing more than a twig, mitts, a bucket, and dreams of taking home the Golden Shovel or Silver Scoop, this weekend of nothing but the game we love captures the true essence of hockey.... |
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Read More... (7.26 KB) | 6 comments | | Score: 5 (589 reads) |
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