Breakfast Club Spring - Week 1 With Laura
My my my! It's been four weeks since I played hockey. Where did the time go? I missed the last week of the winter session of the Breakfast Club. Have I mentioned lately how that pesky job keeps interfering with my hockey priorities? And then there was spring break vacation with the family. Ho hum, yes, I suppose that the cabana boy was dutiful enough with my pina coladas (ahem, my ice is melting...) but there was nary a rink to be seen for miles and you can only lie around languidly soaking in the sun for so long before your mind melts, too.
So, indeed, I was itching to be back on the ice. Starting the spring session this morning scratched all those good places.
But before I thrill you with the torrid details of this morning, we need to bid a fond farewell to Courtney Welch, who is moving out and off to work for "the" USA Hockey in Colorado. Wow! Chica done good, eh? And remember Sara? She's doing well in D.C. She found some ice and has been rocking between the pipes as goalie.
Anyway, back to today.
I got to the rink early. "How early, Laura?" you ask? "Early" early I tell you... well, early for me, like 5:45 instead of my typical 5:59:59. To avoid any further quibbling, let us just all agree that I was there on a timely basis, shall we? And, lo and behold, my punctuality was rewarded: I was greeted by the ever cheerful Kevin, who personally welcomed me back and escorted me down the hall as he unlocked my private padded cell -- I mean, the girls' designated locker room. Gosh, what a pleasant charming young man, treating his elders with such care and concern. And, best of all, no, he did not call me ma'am.
Lyle seems to have gotten over his "no coffee on the ice" vow. Was that something he gave up only for the holy days? Hmmm, I must investigate and report back in a future edition. It would seem that any coffee consumed by the coaching staff must have been laced with a foreign substance, however, seeing as it induced amnesia in Scott who swears he didn't see nuthin' nuh uh no way. But Kirk said that was the second time he's seen Lyle "lose his composure" while demonstrating how to skate like me.
I'm blaming it on Joe Jones, just in case you're wondering. What? Why, the colors of the jerseys, of course. Joe wasn't there this morning, and heaven knows both Lyle and Scott begged ignorance, so since Joe wasn't there to defend himself, we'll lay responsibility for the wardrobe selection at his feet. Can you say "marshmallow peeps"? I guess it fits, though, becuz we is the hahkay peeeps doncha knowit...
I promised the other token female (who shall remain nameless until she confirms it's OK for me to "name" her here in this blog) that I'd post a link to the world's bestest mostest amazingest chick hockey info site in the world, that being my site, www.hockeymoms.org. If you are a female or fan of females, go there to see all of the places around town that have women-only hockey teams and leagues.
Not that I would trade my boyfriends for chicas. I would never say that in public. No, I love all you guys like ... like ... like a bunch of guys who play hockey with grace and good humor. Why, where else could so many of you blush simultaneously when Lyle explained our yellow versus purple drill with the admonishment against making certain moves from certain angles. Brad and Kirk, you know what I'm talking about, don't make me spell it out for you.
So much sarcasm, so little time. Until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
So, indeed, I was itching to be back on the ice. Starting the spring session this morning scratched all those good places.
But before I thrill you with the torrid details of this morning, we need to bid a fond farewell to Courtney Welch, who is moving out and off to work for "the" USA Hockey in Colorado. Wow! Chica done good, eh? And remember Sara? She's doing well in D.C. She found some ice and has been rocking between the pipes as goalie.
Anyway, back to today.
I got to the rink early. "How early, Laura?" you ask? "Early" early I tell you... well, early for me, like 5:45 instead of my typical 5:59:59. To avoid any further quibbling, let us just all agree that I was there on a timely basis, shall we? And, lo and behold, my punctuality was rewarded: I was greeted by the ever cheerful Kevin, who personally welcomed me back and escorted me down the hall as he unlocked my private padded cell -- I mean, the girls' designated locker room. Gosh, what a pleasant charming young man, treating his elders with such care and concern. And, best of all, no, he did not call me ma'am.
Lyle seems to have gotten over his "no coffee on the ice" vow. Was that something he gave up only for the holy days? Hmmm, I must investigate and report back in a future edition. It would seem that any coffee consumed by the coaching staff must have been laced with a foreign substance, however, seeing as it induced amnesia in Scott who swears he didn't see nuthin' nuh uh no way. But Kirk said that was the second time he's seen Lyle "lose his composure" while demonstrating how to skate like me.
I'm blaming it on Joe Jones, just in case you're wondering. What? Why, the colors of the jerseys, of course. Joe wasn't there this morning, and heaven knows both Lyle and Scott begged ignorance, so since Joe wasn't there to defend himself, we'll lay responsibility for the wardrobe selection at his feet. Can you say "marshmallow peeps"? I guess it fits, though, becuz we is the hahkay peeeps doncha knowit...
I promised the other token female (who shall remain nameless until she confirms it's OK for me to "name" her here in this blog) that I'd post a link to the world's bestest mostest amazingest chick hockey info site in the world, that being my site, www.hockeymoms.org. If you are a female or fan of females, go there to see all of the places around town that have women-only hockey teams and leagues.
Not that I would trade my boyfriends for chicas. I would never say that in public. No, I love all you guys like ... like ... like a bunch of guys who play hockey with grace and good humor. Why, where else could so many of you blush simultaneously when Lyle explained our yellow versus purple drill with the admonishment against making certain moves from certain angles. Brad and Kirk, you know what I'm talking about, don't make me spell it out for you.
So much sarcasm, so little time. Until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
posted by Suburban Hockey @ 3:42 PM
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