The past week i have been back on the ice. Just at the rink shooting around and getting into pick up games. Wow. Crap. I will never ever be how i was when i was 18. Or 23 for that matter. The last time i ever played organized was in Vancouver 7 years ago. And i thought that was bad. Look at me now Ma....i be a bag of ka ka. Before i got on the ice last week as far as i was concerened i was that 23 year old zippin and doodilin around flippen here zaggn there. Reality bites people. Not the case anymore. I couldnt even raise my head tonite to look at the other people on the ice. Embarassed? Yes. But more afraid i would lose my equilbrium and take a spill. I only got 45 minutes out of it tonite. Man....when we lived on Dunrobin. I would scarf down my dinner just to be at Bronx before 6:30.
I would grab my stick with one hand as i slipped it through the blades of my skates, grab my gloves wtih the other hand jump into my shoes then i would run the 3 or so blocks to the rink. See who was there. Wich most of my guys were or just getting in as i got in. Lace up...charge out onto rink 2 or 3 (rink one those days was offlimits, sacred ground i must say). Depending on the amount of snow, the amount of people, or how cold it was out it would dictate how my nite start out.
Regardless of those variables my nite at the rink would end in one of two ways.
One being playing games of "shinny" ( i always hated that word but im a dad now and i am supposed to use it) until the older dudes went home to whatever they did ( i know what that is now) and shot the puck around with two or three perenials, they were Karl, Gary, sometimes Tim. We did that until the lights went off at 10:15. But on the weekends we would boot inside at 10:00 and grab our shoes so we can stay out long after the lights were out and everyone was gone home.
The other being if we couldnt feel our toes, nose or fingers. Then we would call it a nite. Not until after i caked vasoline on my face, baby powder on my socks, and the will to stay out.
So now crazy thing 30 minutes into my "skate" i can't stop thinking about gong out for wings and beer. Oh how we change. Sometimes for the better but sometimes we just change.
I would give almost anything to meet the guys back there one day. And have one awesome go at an evening of old school community club hockey, gummy bears, friendship, laughs, and showing other people that this was our house.
Those are by far the most vivid memories of growing up. So simple so fun. I feel very lucky adn privilaged to have that in my life. Ill tell yous guys one thing that i do run the risk of living vicariously through my child(ren). And so be it, if she (they) can bring anything from sports through to life its a good thing.
Well thats it for now because im really tempted to blog about a gay accountant. And those words shouldnt be thougt about 10 minutes before bed. Oh great there now ive done it. My bad.