Saturday, September 1, 2007

The Other Form of Self-Abuse

That's right, Hockey.

Season (the "Real" season, as opposed to the NHL) starts September 24th. If it is anything like the last few years, pain and suffering will commence on the 25th.

Hockey and I have a long relationship marred by many rough breaks. Literally.

After 2 dislocated shoulders, 2 separated shoulders (all different incidents), a few concussions, 75 or so stitches, broken metatarsals, ankles, fingers, and knuckles, you would think that if I had any sense left I would give up the game.

But that's where rational thought sails out the window. I can't give it up. During one 11 year period of my meager existence I didn't have access to Ice, so I skated around on a pair of Fruit-Boots (rollerblades to you non-players) and stickhandled a tennis ball with a crappy street stick in some weed-infested parking lot...Like a starving dog gnawing a rubber bone, it seemed like the right thing to do, yet it was strangely unfulfilling.

Now that I have access to a rink, I can't go a few days of late fall / winter without strapping on the gear.

I've even been known to be on the ice alone, a bag of pucks and one net, just toodlin' around for hours...

At least I was drafted by a good team.

Did I mention that hockey playing usually entails much beer after each and every session? Sort of goes with the territory... Here's Surf n' Turf, a crackin' Bristol Bay guide and TU teammate, landin' a big one...

If I don't see you on the river, I'll see you on the pond.

No comments: