Breakfast Club Spring - Week 4 with Laura
Note to self: celebrating Cinco de Mayo is best left to persons (a) not of German and Belgian heritage (such as myself), and (b) much younger (such as not myself). Dang diggy dang, hockey fans, my pads were dragging this morning. Speaking of hockey fans, I shall forego any mention of the Red Wings having been robbed, I tell you, cruelly and mercilessly robbed, during last night's game. Nope, not gonna mention it at all.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, now I remember where I was: on my keester most of the class. Like falling in the open ice, no one pressuring me, nothing, just "whoopsie!" tripping over the blue line during the warm-up drill. I could hear the announcer, "... and now, for the entertainment portion of our program ..." At least, I think it must have been the announcer talking in my head. All those voices can sometimes get confusing.
You will notice that nothing was blogged last week or the week prior. Or maybe you didn't notice but I'll explain anyway. OK, two weeks ago I missed class due to (ahem) some things like work and my kids. Honestly, why my son had to turn fourteen on that morning is beyond me. I thought he was raised with better manners. I need to talk to his father about that. And last week, well, yeah, I did show up to class and I had every intention of blogging, but (ahem) that job thing got in the way. But, I'll have you know, at least one of the members of the blogger team is attentive to her duties, unlike some people who shall remain nameless but his initials are Kirk Swarbrick.
What did Lyle and Joe try to stuff into our thick noggins this morning, anyway? Well, here's the Cliff's Notes version:
> don't over-handle it
> keep your head up
> use your wrists
> get your hands away from your body
> feel it don't look at it
Hmmm, sounds like a good practice. And indeed it was. Despite being the human Zamboni more than I normally am, I managed to work on some quick-release passing, some stop-n-go evasive moves (I like to call it the "jet ski" move), some carrying the puck and passing and moving in for the rebound, and some game-situation passing and getting open. Then there was the longing gazes into my teammates eyes as we performed transition sideways eights with and without the puck. And, of course, the real reason I show (nearly) every week, there were some good laughs with good friends, and I managed to do at least one thing a little less horribly than I did the day before. So it's all good. Now, if I can only get my post-Cinco headache to subside and get my eyes to focus with less difficulty, that "it's all good" can be upgraded to a "yea-ah, it's all good." Either way, I'll see you next week. I promise. And I'll try not to be so wiped out. Until then, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, now I remember where I was: on my keester most of the class. Like falling in the open ice, no one pressuring me, nothing, just "whoopsie!" tripping over the blue line during the warm-up drill. I could hear the announcer, "... and now, for the entertainment portion of our program ..." At least, I think it must have been the announcer talking in my head. All those voices can sometimes get confusing.
You will notice that nothing was blogged last week or the week prior. Or maybe you didn't notice but I'll explain anyway. OK, two weeks ago I missed class due to (ahem) some things like work and my kids. Honestly, why my son had to turn fourteen on that morning is beyond me. I thought he was raised with better manners. I need to talk to his father about that. And last week, well, yeah, I did show up to class and I had every intention of blogging, but (ahem) that job thing got in the way. But, I'll have you know, at least one of the members of the blogger team is attentive to her duties, unlike some people who shall remain nameless but his initials are Kirk Swarbrick.
What did Lyle and Joe try to stuff into our thick noggins this morning, anyway? Well, here's the Cliff's Notes version:
> don't over-handle it
> keep your head up
> use your wrists
> get your hands away from your body
> feel it don't look at it
Hmmm, sounds like a good practice. And indeed it was. Despite being the human Zamboni more than I normally am, I managed to work on some quick-release passing, some stop-n-go evasive moves (I like to call it the "jet ski" move), some carrying the puck and passing and moving in for the rebound, and some game-situation passing and getting open. Then there was the longing gazes into my teammates eyes as we performed transition sideways eights with and without the puck. And, of course, the real reason I show (nearly) every week, there were some good laughs with good friends, and I managed to do at least one thing a little less horribly than I did the day before. So it's all good. Now, if I can only get my post-Cinco headache to subside and get my eyes to focus with less difficulty, that "it's all good" can be upgraded to a "yea-ah, it's all good." Either way, I'll see you next week. I promise. And I'll try not to be so wiped out. Until then, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.
posted by Suburban Hockey @ 3:46 PM
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