Best. Birthday Present. Ever

image via The New York Times

No words required.

Slump Ends, Mediocre Life Continues

Be it noted that on Monday, January 5, 2010, an unbelievably and embarrassingly long scoring slump ended when your modest author netted three goals; one from a fortuitous rebound, another from a fortunate deflection off of a defender's skate and lastly from a lovely pass and redirection.

We now return you to regular programming.

The Tedium is the Message

I realize I use this blog as a sort of calendar blotter. I mark things I've done in this space then I return to it to see what I was doing. The only trouble is I've replaced it with the sort of micro-notes that have become de rigueur of Web 2.0 (or if not rigorous then at least ubiquitous). I post 140 character arguments and posits on Twitter or briefer still, single digit entries at daytum.com. I'm sure it's all done now. The tedium of the medium is the message.

Now I've even resorted to punnery. So it is that my entries have been infrequent and limited and not so thoughtful. Perhaps it is a bad time to write. I'm just back from hockey, my hands still stink of my gloves, and I've just pounded back a beer to help me sleep and two Advil to help me get up (if that makes sense). All together, it has been a topsy-turvy day. For some reason I was fighting afternoon drowsiness really badly today. Two coffees, a candy bar and cold water splashed on my face achieved nothing. When I did head home, I rode my bike like an old drunk. I almost toppled off at least twice and then one of my pedals came off. I put the old pedal in my pocket like an amputated limb and tried riding without it. That didn't work. Eventually I stopped and jammed the thing back on. I rode home as if in a dream with the cold tearing up my eyes and burning my ears. When I finally did get home, I immediately collapsed on the couch. A nap to offset the sleep deficit. It would seem I'm chronically in debt to my dreams.

Good-bye Snoozy Tuesday 

Here's my Monday night routine aprés hockey. I get home, hang my equipment to dry, get a tall cool glass of something (sometimes with alcohol), run the hottest possible shower and wash away the stink, the sweat and the aches. By the time I roll into bed it's usually after 1:30 or later. By the time I flicker off to sleep it may be closer to 2 AM.

Waking is not easy. The rest of the day is horrible. Usually I spend Tuesdays hauling myself around like a re-animated corpse. Last week, after nodding and wrenching my head violently awake, I was so desperate to spur some kind of attentiveness that I shot-gunned an energy drink and gorged on a large format chocolate bar (proceeded by several large cups of coffee). The only effect was an irregular heartbeat and an upset stomach.

Today was different. I was just too busy to be tired. Sorry, that's sort of the punch line. I'm too tired right now to even know what I'm writing.

The-Day-After-Monday Report 

Another hockey night marred by rain, then snow, then rain again. That's something like 6 weeks in a row when it's rained on a Monday night. Luckily, the only thing dampened was the asphalt not the spirit. My ribs continue to feel better so I was hopeful I'd play a little better. Unfortunately, we only had one goalie so we had to use the plywood stand-in at one end. Never mind, I seem to have this goalie's number. In an old fashioned plywood vs plywood show down I filled that net with a bucket load of pucks. Playing against the wooden simulacrum has significantly raised my stats. Not without some loss though. My favorite stick was lost in the battle. That's only the second time I've broken a stick in a game in nearly 8 years. I guess my soft shot is easy on the lumber.

It's raining. It must be Monday. 

After three weeks trying to rest my ribs, I went back to playing hockey tonight. I felt like Howie Morenz — not the Howie Morenz in his prime but the one six feet underground. Dead. I may have mistimed my comeback. Also, let the record show that it has rained every Monday since I started.

On the way home I heard a news item about scientists trying to map the genome of a wooly mammoth from hair samples over 60,000 years old. I felt a little like those scientists tonight as I ventured out on an ice sheet desparately trying to ressurect a creature from the dead.

(no) Hockey Town

Skipped out on hockey this week just like last week. I figure I had sprained the muscles around the ribs and that clicking sensation was the contracted muscle in tension. Or something like that.

I'm determined to get back on the ice this Monday... as long as I don't sprain something watching the Grey Cup on Sunday.

Hockey Diaries: Part 3

Another rainy Monday though it didn't actually rain on the drive to the rink. Third time out with freshly sharpened blades and I hurt myself. Just me. There wasn't even anyone near me. I was skating one direction, the pass was behind me and as I twisted and reached back I could feel my ribs buckle into my abdomen. I knew what had happened right away. It's the third time I've done it and the second time I've done it to my right side.

What's happened is the cartlidge has torn from the rib on the last "floating rib" I guess, tearing or straining the ligaments and neighbouring muscles around the bone. I told you I've done this before. Now all I have to do is wait 2 or 3 weeks.

The funny thing is a rib injury always reminds me of is Little House on the Prairie - Pa was always busting up his ribs and getting wrapped up. Then he'd ride back into town or git up on the barn roof or whatever. All I know is when you crack a rib you're more concerned about breathing than "getting back on the saddle". Then again I'm not prairie folk - I'm just a guy who twisted hisself up sumthin' bad, Ma... now let me lie still and apply the heating pad.

Hockey Diaries: Part 2

Another hockey game - another rainy Monday night. Uncanny. Or maybe not. Maybe it's just this time of year. Hockey runs from October to
December and then from January to April so perhaps the chance of rain once a week is pretty high. Who knows but If the trend continues I may start forming theories.

On the upside, my play improved from last week. For some strange
reason I have an unusually reliable backhand. I'm sure it fools most goalies because a) many goaltenders admit it's harder to see a backhand leave the stick; b) a back hand is usually an odd tumbling puck with a sort of change up pace.

The two I got through tonight were both top corner, soft off-pace shots. Even when my passes went awry, as they often do, our my wrist shots flutter uselessly wide of the net, I can still count on a backhand causing trouble for someone. Sometimes I feel like that shot is so accurate and soft I could flip a puck into a teacup and not make a splash. Maybe that's why it fools a goalie - they just aren't expecting tea service during a game of shinny.

Set out the good china - I've got a shot to practice.

Hockey Diaries: pt.1

First night of the season, and I played terrible. Of course it could've been the last night and I still could've played terrible. Yet the bones ache and the muscles (muscles? Really?) cramp and creak. And my feet? It felt like I was running around on wooden blocks not sliding on sharpened steel. I can only hope I get my head back in the game because it might be a long time before my body joins in. Though the thing is I'm not out of shape, I'm just not in game shape. Meaning I've forgotten how to pace myself on a shift, and how to pace my shifts through the game. As the season goes on, you don't get in any better shape - you just remember when you should bother.

What's the deal with rain on Monday nights? I can't believe how often it is pissing rain when I drive to hockey. I'm going to keep a weather diary just so I can track this anomaly.

Truth From the Red Line

Truth From the Red Line

After over 30 years of playing hockey, the game's truisms are finally taking philosophical root in my mind. "Keep your stick on the ice" is really a missive to stay tuned to the world around you and to remain prepared. "Make yourself available, skate to the openings" may be sound offensive advice but it is truer still in life where the only way to take advantage of opportunities is to be opportunistic (is that Kafka, or Warren Buffet?) Likewise, on defense, look for where no one else is – where coverage is weak, that's where you could get caught. This too could be derived straight from Warren Buffet's motto, "When others are timid, be brave, when others are bold, be cautious." Back on the ice, you'd say, if your teammate has the puck carrier pinned, overload the position, double the puck carrier to force the turn-over. Defense partners should call to each other as to who should cover the shooter or the pass – not too different from the common corporate mantra, "communication is key." "When racing an opponent to the puck, don't be the first one there, rather, be the first to gain position." Again, it reads like a business tip (as in "being first is more important than being good.") "When retrieving the puck, take a shoulder check before you reach it. See where everyone is. Know your options first." That one doesn't even sound like a hockey tip as much as a real estate training guide. "On a break, be decisive, make your deke before you're in the defender's range. If he takes the bait, you're gone before he can make a correction." Be decisive, make your move early, make others over-commit? That could be from Sun Tzu's The Art of War. Of course, my favourite would be, "keep moving your feet" (harder than it sounds) which could be an Oprah slogan for never giving up on your dreams.

Lenny Dykstra, the former Mets and Phillies star who wants to parlay his business acumen into a magazine that advises athletes how to invest – where was Lenny when Mike Tyson needed him?

If you doubt me, read Nails Never Fails, and see how every business situation seems to have a baseball counterpart. Baseball may have catchier expressions such as calling a turning point a "one-and-one count" (which may beat "overloading the zone") but hockey is not without it's Canadian character. Could there be anything more Canadian than, "dump and chase" (sounds like a strategy for shorting a stock) or "working the cycle"? Maybe the Red Wings should give business seminars.