Breakfast Club Summer: Week 4

" ... and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."

Robert Frost was writing of winter, of course, which (seeing as this is the middle of summer) seems a bit of a stretch for me to start quoting right now, doesn't it? But "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" is all about finding a moment to consider alternatives, and then giving in to your responsibilities for at least one more evening. Or, in this case, for at least one more morning after regretfully leaving the rink. How nice it would be if all I had to do was wake up, go play hockey, and that's about it. Or at least I fancy the nicety of that. I'm sure it's far less glamorous than my fantasy.

If I were going to leave it all behind and embark upon my glamorous albeit fictitious life of being a rink rat, I'd need to get a few things in order first. Like shooting. Joe Jones worked with us all on shooting. Catching that pass, and quickly getting that shot off. If you take too long, the goalie can read you like yesterday's newspaper. Make sure that you stop that puck where you're going to need it to be when you take your snap shot, because if you have to fiddle and readjust and so on and so forth, then you might as well forget your scoring opportunity.

Another thing I'd need to make sure I had was a good pass and the ability to time my skating so that I create the opportunity for being available for the pass. Lyle Phair was working with us on that nuance. The four-corners passing drill is kind of like juggling. Each player needs to be where they're supposed to be, or the thing starts falling apart. Just like in a game. The team that makes the fewest number of mistakes generally wins. So the goal is often as simple as minimizing the number of mistakes that your own team can't recover from.

A third thing to make sure I'd have is good core balance and speed, so that I can be "in" the play instead of merely watching. So Scott Wolter was working with us on our starts and stops. If you go in to the stop with poor body positioning, chances are good that you'll end up not being where you want to be by the time it's all said and done.

"What, dear lady, has caused thee to be so somber and introspective this fine summer day?" you might ask. Several things, one of which I can share publicly here, which is a separate albeit related discussion I just had about life and happiness in general. I know it probably sounds over the top, but I truly wonder where I would be today if I hadn't found ice hockey seven years ago. I feel safe to say that I would undoubtedly be fatter, lonelier, and generally in far worse shape than I am now. If any of you may have missed it, click on over to the Detroit Free Press 'video' site to see the interview of some beginner women players in the "Chicks with Sticks" league in Hazel Park. If I didn't have the Breakfast Club, I know I'd still be skating like that, instead of skating like the legend on the ice that I am today.

I still have many many miles to go before I sleep, of course, but it feels great to know that each week I get that much better, even if it's only incremental and even if it seems imperceptible at times. I have a lot of other things in my life that need much more improvement than my hockey game; maybe one day I'll address those.

But in the meantime, I'll see you on the ice.

Breakfast Club Summer: Week 3

I have been admonished that my blog postings may be a bit too much for some family audiences.

So today's blog is brought to you by the letter "G".

"G" as in good thing I have a day job, because I would remain a very hungry hockey player otherwise. Unlike Kovalchuk, no one has offered me $102 million in exchange for the next seventeen years of my life. Not that I wouldn't sell my soul to the Hanson brothers to be able to play like Kovi, mind you, but the only offers I've gotten lately have been far less lucrative.

"G" as in the girls' locker room, which remains a source of confusion. Or perhaps not so much confusion, but rather a siren song, luring unsuspecting boys in our direction like wayward seafarers who then find their hopes cruely dashed upon the rocks? Joe taped up a sign after the situation was brought to his attention today, so this may be my last post on this particular subject. Time will tell...

Speaking of telling time, Lyle actually managed to spend just about ten minutes on the ten-minute "G" topic of getting a feel for the puck. I'm convinced it's only because Scott was around to keep Lyle on schedule, though, because without Scott everything seems to just fall apart. Unlike the last two decades of my life, the puck apparently will not mysteriously disappear from your grasp without you noticing. So today's focus was to actually stop focusing on the puck. It's amazing how big that doggoned rink is if you actually pick up your head and look instead of staring at that little truncated cylinder of rubber that we call the puck.

Not to be too geometrically precise on all of you, of course, but geometry does start with the letter "G" and thus leads us in to the next topic, which is playing the angles. Joe had us working on offense/defense skills, and the fine defensive art of angling the player to where he doesn't want to be and of poke-checking the puck away from him. Or her, as the case may be.

Which brings us to the final "G", that being go go go. We ended the session with a rousing two laps at high speed. Or, at least, some of us did. Some of us were reminded that we need to pick up our pace, and that perhaps a bit more beauty sleep would avoid the feeling of being too tired for hockey. Because, really, that is rather lame when you think about it. Where are your priorities, woman?! Too tired for hockey?! Thanks for the kick in the keester, Lyle. You know I both love it and deserve it.

Breakfast Club Summer: Week 1

This was the first week back to the Breakfast Club after the spring session ended a few weeks back. Some of us (present company included) have been gone even longer. But that's OK, because it's always good to be back regardless of whether it's been a few weeks, a few months, or maybe (gulp) a few years. Or, heck, maybe today's class was your first session? I did notice a good handful who volunteered for Lyle's ten minutes (meaning, in real time, not Lyle time, about twenty minutes) of stick-handling for "the new members of the Breakfast Club".

Joe, meanwhile, took the rest of the group and had them work on some small game offensive deaking.

The big news of the week, of course, was the untimely death of Bob Probert. His legend is his penalty minutes and pugilist talents. Which is a shame. Because he was actually a leader scorer and a deft forward. Given that many of us (present company again included) are older than Bob was, his death reminds us all that there's only so many good days left before we'll be sitting on that big bench in the sky. So Lyle and Joe's guidance becomes all that more urgent. Heaven forbid that I die before I get me a wicked cool wrist shot. I think that when I do finally master that puppy, we might have to check Joe's vitals. I've been told all too often that my skills make many a cohert pray for an end to their misery.

Speaking of dying and going to heaven, I wonder if the parade of guys who took cheap peeps into the chicks' locker room got more or less than they were hoping for?

Ah, but I digress. Back to the topic at hand. Like how to have soft hands and how to handle a one-on-one. If you get beat, you better get back! If you're trying to do the beating, well you better do more than skate right at the defender. Because even a tough guy like Probert couldn't literally skate through the defender. So you better have some other things in your repertoire.

Forgot to mention that we had father-and-son goalies on this fine Wednesday morning. I'm looking forward to two years from now when my kid can legitimately join the beer leagues with me. Because, unlike Probert, no one is scouting me in my 40's. So it's the beer leagues for me, which is perfectly fine! I like that I can have fun playing hockey, and that I have places like the Breakfast Club to help me do that better.