Summer BC week #4
Hey old-timers, sing along with me, okay? “You can call me Ray, you can call me J, or you can call me Johnny or … but ya doesn’t has to call me Johnson”
Any of you (besides me?) old enough to remember that commercial for Busch Lite from the 70’s?
Why do I bring this old t.v. ad up? Because we all have a nickname. Maybe nobody calls us that anymore, but we’ve all got a nickname. And a story behind the nickname. Just like there’s a story about why you started playing hockey, and more importantly why you started coming to the Breakfast Club.
Maybe you started playing when you were a kid? Since those days of yore, however, you’ve come to realize that you could really use some good “practice ice” besides just your weekly beer league all-star game. Or maybe you started playing as an adult (like me) and never had the chance to attend practices as a kid? You’ll never get much less-worse as a beer league all-star unless you attend some practices.
Either way, the key piece is that you’re here because you know you need the practice. Some of us (ahem), need it more than others. And whooooo doggie, am I a girl in need. Let me tell you! Luckily, I’m getting my fix, thank you very much. Why else would I get up at o’dark thirty, right?
We had a light turn-out of two instructors, one goalie, and twelve skaters Thursday morning. I think the monsoons flooded the railroad tracks or something. Warm-ups began with some puck handling while skating (or so I believe, seeing as I was just swimming in to the rink as class was beginning). We then moved on to warming up the goalie with a two-on-oh! Pass between each other, shooter takes the shot (hence, the designation of being called the “shooter”, I know I know, whoa, dude, counter-intuitive). “Winger” then becomes the defender, and it was a one-on-one back up the ice. After about the second run through the line, Lyle asked me if I knew what I was getting myself in to. Yes, Lyle, yes I do actually, thanks for asking :)
After warm-ups, we split into two groups of six. Scott had the unpleasant task of trying to get us to do a two-on-one drill. How many ways can we NOT do the drill the right way? That, my friends, is a cosmic imponderable best left to the mystics. Us misfits, meanwhile, rotated through our pods so that we all got a chance to be the lead skater, the trailer, and the defender. First winger passes to the second winger who is coming from the middle towards the boards. First winger then leaves the boards, cuts behind the first towards the middle, all the while the defender is trying to position so as to both deny the shooting opportunity while also denying the pass. Sounds easy? Nope, you’re right, we managed to not do this drill right just about every single time. Good thing Scott finds us humorous.
Over in Lyle-land, we were working on tight turns. That would be TIGHT turns, not big tractor trailer turns. But not so tight that it’s a stop-start turn, either. Slow it down there, boy! The ice was sufficiently groovy (grooooovy, maaaaan) to lead one to believe that we came close enough to that sweet spot between power and speed. Although, now that I think of it, Lyle never let us use any pucks during this drill. Hmmmm, I guess walking and chewing gum will come later, perhaps next week. In order to make sure you make it to next week, I would suggest keeping your head up and your eyes on the goal.
Any of you (besides me?) old enough to remember that commercial for Busch Lite from the 70’s?
Why do I bring this old t.v. ad up? Because we all have a nickname. Maybe nobody calls us that anymore, but we’ve all got a nickname. And a story behind the nickname. Just like there’s a story about why you started playing hockey, and more importantly why you started coming to the Breakfast Club.
Maybe you started playing when you were a kid? Since those days of yore, however, you’ve come to realize that you could really use some good “practice ice” besides just your weekly beer league all-star game. Or maybe you started playing as an adult (like me) and never had the chance to attend practices as a kid? You’ll never get much less-worse as a beer league all-star unless you attend some practices.
Either way, the key piece is that you’re here because you know you need the practice. Some of us (ahem), need it more than others. And whooooo doggie, am I a girl in need. Let me tell you! Luckily, I’m getting my fix, thank you very much. Why else would I get up at o’dark thirty, right?
We had a light turn-out of two instructors, one goalie, and twelve skaters Thursday morning. I think the monsoons flooded the railroad tracks or something. Warm-ups began with some puck handling while skating (or so I believe, seeing as I was just swimming in to the rink as class was beginning). We then moved on to warming up the goalie with a two-on-oh! Pass between each other, shooter takes the shot (hence, the designation of being called the “shooter”, I know I know, whoa, dude, counter-intuitive). “Winger” then becomes the defender, and it was a one-on-one back up the ice. After about the second run through the line, Lyle asked me if I knew what I was getting myself in to. Yes, Lyle, yes I do actually, thanks for asking :)
After warm-ups, we split into two groups of six. Scott had the unpleasant task of trying to get us to do a two-on-one drill. How many ways can we NOT do the drill the right way? That, my friends, is a cosmic imponderable best left to the mystics. Us misfits, meanwhile, rotated through our pods so that we all got a chance to be the lead skater, the trailer, and the defender. First winger passes to the second winger who is coming from the middle towards the boards. First winger then leaves the boards, cuts behind the first towards the middle, all the while the defender is trying to position so as to both deny the shooting opportunity while also denying the pass. Sounds easy? Nope, you’re right, we managed to not do this drill right just about every single time. Good thing Scott finds us humorous.
Over in Lyle-land, we were working on tight turns. That would be TIGHT turns, not big tractor trailer turns. But not so tight that it’s a stop-start turn, either. Slow it down there, boy! The ice was sufficiently groovy (grooooovy, maaaaan) to lead one to believe that we came close enough to that sweet spot between power and speed. Although, now that I think of it, Lyle never let us use any pucks during this drill. Hmmmm, I guess walking and chewing gum will come later, perhaps next week. In order to make sure you make it to next week, I would suggest keeping your head up and your eyes on the goal.
posted by Suburban Hockey @ 8:32 AM
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