Suburban Hockey Breakfast Club

Breakfast Club Spring - Week 4 with Laura

2009-05-06T15:46:00.002-04:00

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.

Breakfast Club Spring - Week 1 With Laura

2009-04-16T15:42:00.003-04:00

My my my! It's been four weeks since I played hockey. Where did the time go? I missed the last week of the winter session of the Breakfast Club. Have I mentioned lately how that pesky job keeps interfering with my hockey priorities? And then there was spring break vacation with the family. Ho hum, yes, I suppose that the cabana boy was dutiful enough with my pina coladas (ahem, my ice is melting...) but there was nary a rink to be seen for miles and you can only lie around languidly soaking in the sun for so long before your mind melts, too.

So, indeed, I was itching to be back on the ice. Starting the spring session this morning scratched all those good places.

But before I thrill you with the torrid details of this morning, we need to bid a fond farewell to Courtney Welch, who is moving out and off to work for "the" USA Hockey in Colorado. Wow! Chica done good, eh? And remember Sara? She's doing well in D.C. She found some ice and has been rocking between the pipes as goalie.

Anyway, back to today.

I got to the rink early. "How early, Laura?" you ask? "Early" early I tell you... well, early for me, like 5:45 instead of my typical 5:59:59. To avoid any further quibbling, let us just all agree that I was there on a timely basis, shall we? And, lo and behold, my punctuality was rewarded: I was greeted by the ever cheerful Kevin, who personally welcomed me back and escorted me down the hall as he unlocked my private padded cell -- I mean, the girls' designated locker room. Gosh, what a pleasant charming young man, treating his elders with such care and concern. And, best of all, no, he did not call me ma'am.

Lyle seems to have gotten over his "no coffee on the ice" vow. Was that something he gave up only for the holy days? Hmmm, I must investigate and report back in a future edition. It would seem that any coffee consumed by the coaching staff must have been laced with a foreign substance, however, seeing as it induced amnesia in Scott who swears he didn't see nuthin' nuh uh no way. But Kirk said that was the second time he's seen Lyle "lose his composure" while demonstrating how to skate like me.

I'm blaming it on Joe Jones, just in case you're wondering. What? Why, the colors of the jerseys, of course. Joe wasn't there this morning, and heaven knows both Lyle and Scott begged ignorance, so since Joe wasn't there to defend himself, we'll lay responsibility for the wardrobe selection at his feet. Can you say "marshmallow peeps"? I guess it fits, though, becuz we is the hahkay peeeps doncha knowit...

I promised the other token female (who shall remain nameless until she confirms it's OK for me to "name" her here in this blog) that I'd post a link to the world's bestest mostest amazingest chick hockey info site in the world, that being my site, www.hockeymoms.org. If you are a female or fan of females, go there to see all of the places around town that have women-only hockey teams and leagues.

Not that I would trade my boyfriends for chicas. I would never say that in public. No, I love all you guys like ... like ... like a bunch of guys who play hockey with grace and good humor. Why, where else could so many of you blush simultaneously when Lyle explained our yellow versus purple drill with the admonishment against making certain moves from certain angles. Brad and Kirk, you know what I'm talking about, don't make me spell it out for you.

So much sarcasm, so little time. Until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Back to the Breakfast Club with Laura

2009-03-05T13:15:00.001-05:00

What week is this? Where have I been? Who am I? Where am I? Am I sounding like John Stockdale? Are any of you even old enough to remember who John Stockdale was?

Geesh, a girl stops blogging for a few (OK, more than just 'a few') weeks, and she gets razzed at the club. Which must mean that you really do read this! Sniff, sniff, golly gee, I'm feeling all sentimental, gosh, you really do love me, really you do :)

So where have I been? Well, I've missed two weeks, and one week I went to the Wednesday class instead of Thursday's class. Scott and Lyle were there on that Wednesday. Tom. Donny. Hmmm, but no Kirk. Not that I was terribly "there" even though I was there, so who am I to judge? Either way, I can't possibly remember what we did two weeks ago, so I won't pretend to recount my adept moves and awesome wicked skills. I'll leave that to your imagination.

This week I was at my regularly-scheduled Thursday class. So was Martha. And Olga. No Fiona, though. Duncan was my date, girl friends, don't tell Fiona that he was making passes at me while poor Fiona is nursing her likely blown ACL. Yes, today's class was about passing. Cross ice, give 'n go, tic toc, ba da bing ba da bang. Joe and Lyle kept us going, going, going. Doggone, I was a sweaty mess. Happy, grinning from ear to ear, but yes quite the mess.

Speaking of messes, what was up with my non-existent wrist shot? Hmmm, let's see: I don't use my wrists, I don't start releasing the puck until it's two feet in front of me, my bottom hand is too high... did I miss something? Why, yes, I did miss something: the net. Nonetheless, a goodly many of the hearty cohorts did just fine with our round-robin shooting drill. The one-on-ones are always fun, too. Up and around, make the defensive play near the blue line, offensively your 'win' was to get a shot off in the danger zone. Then, just like the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland, 'new puck! new puck!' and the play continues in front of the net, with the defender trying to take away the pass while the offensive player's goal was to get open and make good use of the pass from the corner from the coach.

Are you sweaty enough yet? Good, so let's do some cross overs. Forwards five or a thousand times in one direction, then the other. Then backwards. "Lyle, I'm dizzy." "Yes, you are."

What week is it again? I dunno, but at least it isn't the next-to-last week, that's all I know. Which means a few more weeks until spring season, when I can do this all over again.

So why do I keep pushing that boulder up the hill, you might ask? Because each week, I get a little better, that's why. Heaven forbid that I am forever doomed to play like I played last week or last month or last year. It might not be as noticable as it was when I first started out with hockey oh those nearly six years ago, but I can still see myself getting better. Or stinking less worse. Take your pick. Since we're in the peak of pothole season, all I can say is I don't like being in a rut, and the Breakfast Club is the patching crew of life. Toss down a little cold tar and aggragate, pat it down slightly, and start driving on it. Don't dwell on the hole that you just left behind, focus on the road ahead and plan for a little smoother sailing. Yeah, that's it! So until the next time that I get around to writing something, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club with Laura - Winter Session Day One

2009-01-19T07:26:00.001-05:00

It’s the start of a new year, and the start of a new session of the Breakfast Club. By a strange twist of fate, Kirk and I are no longer in class together. I’ve heard that this separation has been very hard on Kirk, and so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t remind him about me because the poor boy just might bust out … crying? Heck no, more like giggling maniacally. Bwah ha ha ha ha! You know the sound…

Speaking of sounds, I think I heard the sound of the angels singing. Laaaaaa! Due to some scheduling issues, I was going to have to miss this session of the BC entirely, and I was understandably bummed out. But then it seems that some phone calls were made, favors called in, I’m not sure if any incantations were uttered but I did hear there was a sacrifice offered to powers of Tim Horton’s coffee. In any event, Breakfast Club is now running Wednesdays and Thursdays at Suburban Farmington 6am-7:30am, and Thursdays at Rochester Onyx 6:30am-8am. If you were sitting on the fence waiting to see what was gonna happen with the Tuesday class, well, didn’t you read the part I just wrote about the sacrifice to the hockey gods? The Tuesday class has been reincarnated as the Thursday class. Which, seeing as all the chicks are enrolled in the Thursday class, it would seem the Thursday class was reincarnated with all of the higher life forms.

For our first week back, accounting for the hideous weather and the rearranging of schedules, it wasn’t too surprising that we were a little light on turn out. Scott used that opportunity to go back to bed, leaving poor Joe to fend for himself with the bunch of us. We tried to be good little hockey players. We couldn’t have misbehaved too badly, because Joe indulged our request to beat each other up towards the end with a little tag-in chase the rabbit. Two players go in, and whoever gets the puck first has the option of trying to score right away or of tagging in a team mate waiting outside the blue line to create a 2-on-1. If the defender gains possession, he similarly has the option of trying to score or of tagging-in a second defensive (now offensive) team mate. So it could be a 1-on-1, 1-on-2, 2-on-1 or 2-on-2, depending on the situation and the decisions that were made. Because there is no such thing as “just like in practice” when you get to the game. Every situation is a little different, and so being able to make better decisions is the best skill to hone. We can only tweak so much more out of our aging bodies, strength and speed-wise, but at least some of us still have some brain cells firing. Use all of the tools in the toolkit.

Not that anyone was in need of some Mr. Fix-It repairs. Yes, there were a few human Zamboni moments, like doing the tight turns and losing an edge. Hmmm, where did I leave my inside edge? Must be around here somewhere... Tight turns toward the boards when you’re evading a defender creates a natural barrier between the puck and your opponent. That barrier being, your big ol’ posterior. Of course, to do a tight turn well, you need to use both skates, not just the inside edge of your outside skate. So we practiced turning just on one edge. First inside edge of the outside skate, and then the outside edge of the inside skate. It’s amazing what happens when your upper body cooperates, directionally, if you’re trying to do the outside edge-only turns. And, conversely, how an uncooperative upper body will harpoon your best-intentions of thinking you’re gonna turn.

I’m sure I could go on and on and on and on and on and on and on… (slap!) OK, so enough of me blabbering. Get your duff to the rink, and see you on the ice. In the meantime, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Thanksgiving Eve with Laura

2008-11-29T07:14:00.001-05:00

Well, first we skated, and then we ate-ed. Yes, yes, it’s been a busy Thanksgiving week.

Turnout was a little light on Wednesday morning, but not too bad. We still had a good-enough mix of reds and blues to end it all with a little red-versus-blue cross-ice chase the puck. Although, despite the food-based theme to this week, sorry, Scott, there wasn’t any jello…

Lyle kept telling Sarah to keep her feet moving, and then he remembered that her feet will be moving all the way to Washington, D.C. in two weeks and he almost started to feel wistful. Sarah! Sarah! Don’t make me represent our whole species by myself, girlfriend! But hey, I see that the Fort Dupont Ice Arena has drop-in every Sunday from 9-10:20pm, so it doesn’t seem too desolate there. Next time I have to haul my lawyer butt to D.C. for a hearing, I will pack my stuff and look you up. I am quite the sight tromping through the airport in my high heels, with a laptop on one shoulder and my hockey bag on the other shoulder.

So let’s see… it’s been a few days and a few thousand calories since we skated on Wednesday morning. The details are somewhat sketchy. I seem to recall us breaking into length-wise halves this week instead of end zone halves, meaning we were skating our pre-eating keesters from end-to-end all morning long. Maybe it was part of Lyle and Scott’s diabolical plan to make us feel less guilty about over-eating on the following day? Who knows what evil lurks in their minds. Scott was secretly hoping for a face-plant or two, though, I’m convinced. Otherwise, why would he have had us doing those stride balancing drills with our sticks over our shoulders like oh-so-many woe begotten oxen? Stride using your right, then touch your right knee to the ice. Rub your tummy. Pat your head. Walk. Chew gum. Geesh, slave driver…

Lyle had us doing some one-on-ones. Always a good time, beating up on each other. Grinning from ear to ear, of course, but definitely some good rivalry going on. I was asked at one point if I was prepared to be dominated. I’ll let you answer that question yourself…

I’m sure we did more. It’s not that it wasn’t memorable, of course. It’s just that I’ve lost too many brain cells in the past couple of days that have passed between attending the class and writing this post. Like this: my mind has completely forgotten that there was some kind of large cat carnivore purportedly playing a game called “foot” “ball” that didn’t really involve much feet at all. Nor any feat, come to think of it. Ooooh, but I can’t think of it. My mind is blocking that. I’m thinking about rainbows, and unicorns, and making a crisp tape-to-tape pass….

Breakfast Club with Kirk

2008-11-29T07:12:00.001-05:00

I haven’t done that many hockey stops in the past 3 months during league play than we did today at BC. I’m exhausted. Wow, during league play the goal is to keep your momentum going, the only time you stop is when you run into the bench to rest. Just another dimension of the game, you’ll definitely get the jump on guys during directional changes when you can pop from a stop to powering into stride. You’ll be a stride or two ahead of your opponents for sure. It’s all about edge work isn’t it, mostly getting command of the outside edges.

The drills today focused us on one outside edge at a time so we can focus getting on that darn edge and work it. Lyle keep pushing us on this stuff, I saw many teammates gasping for a little air after some of those drills. Another good part of the day was working a 2-on-1 and positioning for a quality shot on goal. Key word position. I have a tendency to go straight line to the goal which makes it easy for a defender to cover me. Joe was working on different scenarios to open the play up and have better chances for a quality shot. OK Laura what up, a big no show, did you get the word on a hard workout? See ya folks next week, Kirk out.

Breakfast Club with Laura

2008-11-13T10:09:00.001-05:00

I talked to Todd this morning about him blogging. He said he'd think about it. He said he couldn't blog about the whole session, though, because he needs to leave early every week.

So here's your chance, Todd. I'll leave the whole first part of the blog blank, and you can just fill it in however you wish...

[blank]

[blank]

[blankitty blank blank]

wow, Todd really has a way with words, doesn't he?

Hey, at least he said he'd try. Kirk didn't even bother to show up this morning.

I hear from Sarah that there were five chicks at the Tuesday skate. Her, Fiona, Martha, Courtney and someone else who's name escapes me at the moment (sorry, sister, not dissing you...). That's pretty good considering there were 13 guys. So the dude-to-chick ratio was 2.5-to-1. Kinda like ladies night at the bar, eh?

For this morning's skate, I was the sole chick on the ice. "But wait," you say, "Sarah was there." Yeah, she was there, but she wasn't skating; she was goal-tending this morning. And so she wasn't "on" the ice like I was. No one was "on" the ice like I was. I was all over that ice. Upside down. Backwards. Sarah just got to stand around, blocking shots. Me? I was this morning's entertainment. It was a hard burden to bear, but I did so with honor and grace.

With three goalies, we took advantage of our shooting opportunities. After warming everyone up, we broke into length-wise half-ice groups, so we were skating end-to-end all morning long. And doggone, that can wear you out when you're as, ahem, well-seasoned as some of us not-so-spring chickens are. Joe's one-on-ones were particular humbling. Or amusing, depending on whether you were me or whether you were merely watching me. After three tries, I at least managed to not trip over my own skates on that backwards crossover start. Hurrah for life's little victories...

Meanwhile, on the other length-wise half, Lyle had us refining our strides. Maximize the power and minimize the wasted body movement.

Then back into the committee of the whole, still running lengthwise, but this time passing out to the coaches and getting that pass back. Receive it one-handed and skate one-handed, pushing that puck so that you don't waste speed trying to puck handle.

And we ended it all with a little of my favorite, that being beating the snot out of each other trying to get to the puck first. Two on two. Except we were too tired to really have as much fun beating each other up as we should have. It was kinda like, yeah, whatever, you really want to get to that puck before me? Sure, go ahead, knock yourself out. I'm just gonna hang out here and try to find some oxygen if you don't mind...

I guess, in retrospect, the reason we got so tired this morning was because the drills didn't get goofed up as much as they usually do. So either we're getting better, or Joe and Lyle were easier on us, or else Scott and Kirk are a disrupting force that we were spared from being subjected to. I'd like to think it's the former. I'd hate to have to permanently deprive myself of Scott and Kirk. What else would I talk about then??

So, until next week, or until Todd writes his part of the blog, whichever comes first, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

BC: Election Hangover

2008-11-05T12:02:00.002-05:00

Hey! I didn't realize it until last night. We're wearing RED and BLUE jerseys this session. Did you do that on purpose, Lyle? Far be it from me to question that man's motivations. And while I believe I have a unique foreign relations perspective, considering that I see Canada from my beer fridge every night at home, I will not sink to a campaign of fear by pointing out that there was not any good ol' American music piping into the locker rooms this morning. No, I will not do that, unlike my opponents who will hook and trip and pull every dirty play in the book. In a show of bipartisan unity, I won't bring any of this up again. Well, except I will point out that Courtney was the lone representative of the Green Party at this morning's skate. But Lyle made her pretend to be red. Not like I can talk; I swapped my blue for a red toward the end. Ah, but I digress...

We did some passing in passing. Actually, we did more than just a passing amount of passing, we did a lot. Give 'n go's, one touches, bing bing bing. We went straight from the stretching into two groups, one group warming up the goalie with some two-lane shots while the other group worked on passing. Passing with your top hand only, then keeping that same distance from your rib cage when you add that lower hand. It ain't as easy as it should be. I guess that's why we call this practice, eh? Meanwhile, the two-lane shooters were warming up the goalie while also purportedly working on our stick-handling and deaking.

The second set of drills was likewise divided into ends, with the one end doing some passing to and within the center circle while the passer and his/her partner skated up the boards, stop + crossover start back, take the pass, and two-on-oh! at the goalie. The other end was working on quick release shots with a partner. Which, hey, by the way, Lyle, when I signed that injury waiver form, I never dreamed I would have to stand at the boards while Randy let lose his wrist shots at me. I felt like one of those wild west gunslingers where someone is shooting at my feet and telling me to 'dance!'.

We closed with a little zone game. The blues versus the reds (this is where Courtney's green became an honorary red, and where I doffed my blue and donned a red). Two roamers each, and three stationary players each. Change of possession required a pass out to one of the stationary players, strategically located at the point, down low and at the opposing hash marks. More or less keep-away plus setting up the shots.

A good sweat was had by all. Except Kirk, of course, who tried to sneak out early without being noticed. But we have proof that he was there, seeing as Courtney was clicking away with the ol' Nikon. I sure hope she got a good shot of me with my head up and my eyes on the goal...

BC: Week 3

2008-10-31T10:20:00.001-04:00

Bad girl, bad girl. It's Friday and I forgot to write about this past Wednesday's practice. Which is a problem. It's been 48 hours since I was there, and the details are already fading from my memory. Not that Joe wasn't memorable: he and Lyle had a little sibling rivalry going that morning, which was alll the more entertaining when you remember that they aren't related. And Scott, Scott, Scott... I find I am drawn to you, like a moth to a flame, as you whisper sweet nothings to me on the ice. You know what I'm talking about. Those tender words of love, like "what heck are you doing with your chicken wings up in the air? No wonder you can't catch that puck." Ah, you sweet talker, you!

Welcome back Ronnie! It was nice to have a target again. Lyle actually slipped and called you a goalie. Did anyone else but you and me notice that? Maybe absence does make the heart grow fonder.

I felt faster this week. Don't burst my bubble and tell me any differently, OK? Us old chicks need to cling to our illusions. I hope I'm not seen as the hockey equivalent of Blanche DuBois, though. I don't have any scarves big enough to drape over the mercury vapor lamps. But come to think of it, it couldn't have hurt Blanche to lower a shoulder and deliver a good solid check to ol' Stanley, eh?

We broke into two groups after warming up Ronnie with left/center/right lane shots. The east end group stayed in the east end the entire time, and the west end group stayed in the west, and instead of the players swapping ends the coaches swapped ends that morning. Interesting twist. And very necessary, because Lyle's victims were chewing up the ice pretty badly, especially when we started playing bowling for skaters. You know the game I'm talking about: where we peel off into bunches of three, doing ever-faster crossovers between the tops of the circles and the goal crease. Inevitably, someone will lose an edge and go skidding across the ice towards the other two skaters, who themselves are teetering on the brink of losing an edge. And just like bowling, that 7-10 split is always so hard to pick up in that second frame. The Scott+Joe victims, on the other hand, were working on our tight turns. First time through, officially without pucks, and the second time through, still sometimes without pucks although we were supposed to have pucks the whole time. Sigh... I guess I'll still need to keep that day job, huh? But, hey, did I mention that I felt faster that morning?

We probably did some other stuff, too, but it's been two days, one hockey game and one drop-in clinic since the class, so it's all kinda blurring together right now. Maybe some sugar will help clear the fog. I think I'll go trick-or-treating as a demure housewife. No one will recognize me!

Until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

BC: Week 2

2008-10-22T13:47:00.001-04:00

This is week number 'two' but I'm calling it "weak too", as in doggone they wore us out this morning! Everyone really worked up a sweat today. And that is despite the fact that it was officially freezing this morning, complete with frost on the whole nine yards of grass. So even though the rink was cold, cold, cold this morning, we managed to do our fair share of perspiring.

What else did we do besides drip? Well, it all started with the ever-humbling sideways jumping over your stick. Two footed, and then one-footed. Yeah, Lyle, that was my strong foot, you should have seen how lame my weak-footed hop was... Then on to some stationary dribbling, front, side, other side, around the horn and back again. I think that's where I started to seriously sweat. Finding a buddy to pass with was easier, but doggone why doesn't that puck go where it should have gone? And don't even get me started on the directional integrity of my backhand pass versus my forehand pass.

We then split into two groups, one groups that was seriously chewing-up the ice with Joe and Scott doing tight turns of all sorts, while the other group was playing heat-seeking missile with Lyle as we shuffle-skated and tried to keep puck possession from our opponents. Except when we were in cahoots with our opponents, who were our glorified passing cones. Ah, yes.

We then moved back into a committee of the whole, which, if you know what happens when you design by committee then you have an idea of what happens when we try doing one-on-one's down the ice. Luckily, there was only one near-death experience. That's why we wear all that padding, right?

And wrap it all up in a nice little bow, by skating some figure eight's and keeping those turns tight, tight, tight.

Ronnie, Ronnie... calling all goalies!!

Until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

The Start of Another Season

2008-10-15T16:32:00.000-04:00

Here we are, back at the Breakfast Club.

As I was coming into the rink from the parking lot, my fellow BC-er commented that boy it was hard to get up this morning. For him, he was coming all the way from Ann Arbor, so the alarm clock jarred him awake at 4:30am. Me? I’m only coming from the Milford area, so I snored away until being rudely awoken by that stupid buzz-buzz-buzz at 5am.

But, come we did,
and we will,
because
hockey
is worth it.

Think about it. What else do you have going on in your life that you voluntarily get up at o’dark thirty in the morning, eh?

If any of you are runners, I must say for the record that you are nuts to go running at o’dark thirty in the morning. Everybody thinks us hockey players are nut cases, but, uh, hullloo, I am skating with enough body armor to stop a bullet, in a building, where the only other thing that could run into me is another idiot who maybe outweighs me by 40-100 pounds. You runners? You are nuts to be sharing the road with a bunch of half-sleeping zombies who are texting while driving while also trying to drink their coffee, all the while they are driving a vehicle that outweighs you by a factor of two or three hundred-to-one. So, tell me again, who exactly is whacko between the hockey player and the runner? Yeah, just as I thought. Case closed…

As usual, I wasn’t able to get on the ice until after Lyle had already started the warm-up drills. Scott must have been feeling a little off today, because he didn’t razz me about “here comes the second shift…” Joe, on the other hand, reminded me that I owe the Zamboni driver an apology for denting his ice at my daughter’s game this past Sunday.

Speaking of being off, where were our goalies, Ronnie and Bob? I got to the rink at 5:45am expecting to see Ronnie smiling away while the over-eager beavers shot on him. Apparently the rink opens at 5:15am, and apparently there are some among you who actually get to the rink early enough to spend a good ten to thirty minutes of “free” time skating around and practicing your shots. So I have grown accustomed to having Ronnie be the first person I see when I get to the rink. Imagine my dismay when not only was the net empty, but there weren’t any early-risers skating around. I had to do a double-take. Yup, it’s 5:45am, and while I was actually a bit earlier getting to the rink than my usual 05:59:59, I could have swore that there were usually a good handful of guys who get there early enough to make me feel like I am really as late as I usually am.

So if I got to the rink at 5:45am, why did I still manage to not get out on the ice for the start of warm-ups at 6am? I can’t blame it on Sara. Yeah, she was there, and us chicks did our usual chit-chat thing. But, it’s not like we need more than about seven minutes to get dressed so I can’t blame it on the fact that I hadn’t seen Sara in weeks and we were chit-chatting. So what exactly was my excuse then, huh? I bought a new stick on Sunday, and hadn’t yet taken the time to tape it. So I spent time, apparently too much time, taping it up to hit the ice.

Ah, yes… new season, new stick, and same ol’ friends. Life is good!

If you have a friend who forgot to sign-up in time for the start of the season, it’s still not too late. Drag him (or her) along. Heck, Tom and Richard didn’t sign up until this past Sunday. I should know, I was at the front counter when they were signing up, and I gave them a hard time and told them I’d be looking for them on Wednesday morning. You know, “I’ll be lookin’ for you,” spoken in a Robert DiNiro accent from “Meet the Fockers”, two fingers waving from your eyes toward your victim.

Which brings me to the real topic of this blog, that being what were the victims subjected to during today’s practice? The only thing that was victimized was my pride. As usual. Lyle and Scott and Joe do their level best to try to get us out of our comfort zones and into a higher performance zone. Sometimes we’re just zoned, though. We worked on jumping and balance, stickhandling, deeking, shooting, passing.. whew, yeah, I did indeed work up a sweat this morning. I could say more, but I’ve already said quite a bit even if it probably wasn’t about what you were hoping to read. That’s too bad for you, eh? If you don’t like what I write, then why don’cha pick up your keyboard and give it a try at authoring a blog posting or two yourself? Kirk says his dance ticket is too crowded to fit me in until after Thanksgiving. So how about you, Todd? Or maybe someone else? Come on, boys, you need to represent your half of the species. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck listening to me yammer all season long.

Until we meet again, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

The Start of Another Year

2008-10-15T16:25:00.001-04:00

Here we are, back at the Breakfast Club.

As I was coming into the rink from the parking lot, my fellow BC-er commented that boy it was hard to get up this morning. For him, he was coming all the way from Ann Arbor, so the alarm clock jarred him awake at 4:30am. Me? I’m only coming from the Milford area, so I snored away until being rudely awoken by that stupid buzz-buzz-buzz at 5am.

But, come we did, and we will, because hockey is worth it.

Think about it. What else do you have going on in your life that you voluntarily get up at o’dark thirty in the morning, eh?

If any of you are runners, I must say for the record that you are nuts to go running at o’dark thirty in the morning. Everybody thinks us hockey players are nut cases, but, uh, hullloo, I am skating with enough body armor to stop a bullet, in a building, where the only other thing that could run into me is another idiot who maybe outweighs me by 40-100 pounds. You runners? You are nuts to be sharing the road with a bunch of half-sleeping zombies who are texting while driving while also trying to drink their coffee, all the while they are driving a vehicle that outweighs you by a factor of two or three hundred-to-one. So, tell me again, who exactly is whacko between the hockey player and the runner? Yeah, just as I thought. Case closed…

As usual, I wasn’t able to get on the ice until after Lyle had already started the warm-up drills. Scott must have been feeling a little off today, because he didn’t razz me about “here comes the second shift…” Joe, on the other hand, reminded me that I owe the Zamboni driver an apology for denting his ice at my daughter’s game this past Sunday.

Speaking of being off, where were our goalies, Ronnie and Bob? I got to the rink at 5:45am expecting to see Ronnie smiling away while the over-eager beavers shot on him. Apparently the rink opens at 5:15am, and apparently there are some among you who actually get to the rink early enough to spend a good ten to thirty minutes of “free” time skating around and practicing your shots. So I have grown accustomed to having Ronnie be the first person I see when I get to the rink. Imagine my dismay when not only was the net empty, but there weren’t any early-risers skating around. I had to do a double-take. Yup, it’s 5:45am, and while I was actually a bit earlier getting to the rink than my usual 05:59:59, I could have swore that there were usually a good handful of guys who get there early enough to make me feel like I am really as late as I usually am.

So if I got to the rink at 5:45am, why did I still manage to not get out on the ice for the start of warm-ups at 6am? I can’t blame it on Sara. Yeah, she was there, and us chicks did our usual chit-chat thing. But, it’s not like we need more than about seven minutes to get dressed so I can’t blame it on the fact that I hadn’t seen Sara in weeks and we were chit-chatting. So what exactly was my excuse then, huh? I bought a new stick on Sunday, and hadn’t yet taken the time to tape it. So I spent time, apparently too much time, taping it up to hit the ice.

Ah, yes… new season, new stick, and same ol’ friends. Life is good!

If you have a friend who forgot to sign-up in time for the start of the season, it’s still not too late. Drag him (or her) along. Heck, Tom and Richard didn’t sign up until this past Sunday. I should know, I was at the front counter when they were signing up, and I gave them a hard time and told them I’d be looking for them on Wednesday morning. You know, “I’ll be lookin’ for you,” spoken in a Robert DiNiro accent from “Meet the Fockers”, two fingers waving from your eyes toward your victim.

Which brings me to the real topic of this blog, that being what were the victims subjected to during today’s practice? The only thing that was victimized was my pride. As usual. Lyle and Scott and Joe do their level best to try to get us out of our comfort zones and into a higher performance zone. Sometimes we’re just zoned, though. We worked on jumping and balance, stickhandling, deeking, shooting, passing.. whew, yeah, I did indeed work up a sweat this morning. I could say more, but I’ve already said quite a bit even if it probably wasn’t about what you were hoping to read. That’s too bad for you, eh? If you don’t like what I write, then why don’cha pick up your keyboard and give it a try at authoring a blog posting or two yourself? Kirk says his dance ticket is too crowded to fit me in until after Thanksgiving. So how about you, Todd? Or maybe someone else? Come on, boys, you need to represent your half of the species. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck listening to me yammer all season long.

Until we meet again, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Here We Go Again!

2008-10-08T08:22:00.001-04:00

Here we go again.

Usually, when someone says, "here we go again," it is accompanied by a roll of the eyes. Maybe also an exhasperated sigh.

Yup, yup, here we go again.

Sigh.

But wouldn't it be nice to turn that on its tail? Don'cha wish that when you thought to yourself, "here we go again," that you thought of something good instead of something dreadful?

It's hard to imagine, right?

Here we are, smack in the middle of another campaign season. Both candidates say they are the agent for change, that it won't be politics as usual, that they have a purpose and a vision for America. Yet, we've been inundated with negative slams and vile innuendo.

Sigh.

Here we go again.

But wait! There IS hope for America. A new day IS dawning. No, not in the world of politics. In a better world. A world where there is a puck in every bag, where no one's locked out of the locker room and where you can always find a friend with a roll of tape. A world where it doesn't matter whether your jersey is black or white, where you are judged not by the contents of your bag but by the character of your performance.

Yeah! Yeah, here we go again!

It's time for the regular season of the Breakfast Club to start up again. Next week! Yeah! I can't wait. Here we go again...

Breakfast Club: The End of Summer

2008-09-11T16:22:00.001-04:00

The end is not only near, it is here. The autumnal equinox might not be for another week or so, but summer is officially over nonetheless. The kids are back to school, and the summer season of Breakfast Club closed today. So, what exactly did we accomplish over summer vacation?

Let's see:

1) we all got better. That's saying something, it really is. We are all proof positive that old dogs can indeed be taught new tricks. Especially for our newer players, the improvements have been drastic. Hockey is very much like a drug, in that respect, in that you get a really good high those first few months and your week-over-week improvement makes you crave more. Stimulus, response, stimulus, response. For our more (ahem!) seasoned players, the improvements can be more elusive and subtle. But they are still there.

2) we had a ton of fun. What's a good summer vacation without having a ton of fun, eh? And a ton of fun without any broken bones or hurt feelings. Just a few busted chops, as the saying goes, and the jibes go both ways. It's been said a million times before, but it still holds true, and that is: we are all here to learn and have a good time, and what better opportunity to laugh at yourself than with a great group of friends?

For our last Thursday class, Lyle and Joe kept us going with a bunch of give-n-go types of drills. Four-point passing around, come down the lane, shoot, follow for the rebound. Two "tag out" teammates, one at the hash marks and another up where the defense should be holding the blue line, and two shooters and fetchers, all four battling for puck control (emphasis on the "control" part!) to try shooting on the goalie. Of course, we did our ever-reliable warm-ups before all of that, two puck carriers around the horn, one short side and one hooking back across around and down for the long side shot to get our legs moving and to get the goalies limber. Wrap it all up with some full-ice four-on-fours, and life is good. Who cares if I'm going off to that mind-numbing desk job? I've been able to start my day doing something that it the most fun that you can have with your clothes on! Whoo hoo!

Don't forget to sign-up before the September 25th discount expires ($25 bucks off for returning players who beat the cut-off). Until October, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Summer Session Week #6

2008-08-19T08:29:00.001-04:00

Lyle! I thought you were my one and only! Come to find out, though, when you're not around, Joe seems to think it falls to him to keep me humble. Scott, too. What do you guys do? Draw straws before each practice, to see who gets to run the drills, who gets to keep Slenzak in line, and who buys the coffee? Please don't tell me I'm the short straw...

Free hockey alert! Free hockey alert! If any of you boys can bear the thought of even more chicks on ice, then keep reading. If you can't, then I'll let you know when it's safe to start reading again... On Sunday September 7th 6:30-7:30pm, there will be a free "moms and daughters" ice hockey clinic at Suburban Farmington for any and all females who have wanted to give hockey a try but who thought she couldn't do it, or she didn't have the equipment, or whatever other reason or excuse might have been holding her back. This is for kids and adults, so long as you're not a boy. The rink will suit you up with everything you need, including skates, helmets and sticks. Visit hockeymoms.org, or call Geoff Bennetts at 248-888-1400 for more details.

OK, it's safe to start reading again...

I missed my usual Wednesday class due to a work meeting (note to self: remind all those mere mortals, again, about where my true priorities lie). Lucky for them, I was able to forego immediately tendering my resignation, because I went to the Thursday class instead. And lucky for me, I still have that day job, because I have yet to be able to buy me a wrist shot.

Ah, but I digress...

We warmed up the goalies with our three lane drill. Joe wasn't content to see us lose the puck on open ice straight-aways, however, so he added a little blue-line-and-up S-turn into the mix to get us in the right frame of mind. That being, you rarely if ever get an open ice straight-away in a game, so why should you practice them? Hmmm, good question. Too bad it's too early in the morning for me to fully grasp those kinds of ironies. I'm just grasping at straws at that time of day. Or, to be more precise, reaching for the water bottle even though I hear you should have been skating much much more harder than I did before you can deserve to get a drink of water.

Splitting into groups, we did some transitions and some game situations. It's all a little complicated to try to describe here, but I'll try my best. For the game situations, we first ran 3-0's and then 3-on-1's in the half ice zone. The goal was, well, to score a goal, silly! This drill is where I was politely reminded to (ahem) shoot the flipping puck, woman! It would seem that it is apparently best to shoot when you are wide open and unopposed, than to look for a team mate to pass to in the hopes that he will be as well-positioned as you for your otherwise freebie shot. Go figure! Life is just full of teachable moments.

Transitioning to transitions, Joe seemed to think it was important to be able to manuever transitions from front to back to side to up to down to left and right and all kinds of any which ways, all the while keeping the puck under control. OK, OK, you've got me there, Joe. I will grudgingly concede that those skills may occassionally come in handy in a game. But did I mention that it's early in the morning? I hardly think any ankle-bender that I'd be matched against could bust a move like that on me at this time of day. Oh? What's that? Ooh, got me again there, Joe. Yeah, I guess it would be nice if I was BustaMoves instead of the other guy.

We ended it all with a little clothing-optional scrimmage. Oops, sorry, I guess it wasn't yet safe to keep reading after all. Now it's safe. All you boys who don't think girls belong on the ice, you can start reading again now because I'm done for this week.

So until next week, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Tale of an Ironman: This Summer's Off-Ice Adventure

2008-08-13T18:53:00.003-04:00

Bob Finger is one of the Breakfast Club goaltenders. He recently competed in his fourth Ironman competition in July. While the BC offers a challenge on the ice, Finger shares his experience of this summer's off-ice adventure: Lake Placid Ironman 2008.

Lake Placid Ironman 2008

Lake Placid is my fourth Ironman, and with the notable exception of a mechanical failure on the bike in Wisconsin , I’ve finished every time. So it’s curious that I felt the pressure of this attempt more than any previous race.

There are many reasons to be intimidated of Ironman USA (Lake Placid), from the long narrow swim course that seems to draw athletes in towards the buoy line, to the punishing twelve mile climb on each loop of the bike, and finally finishing with a run course that includes a steep (200’ of elevation) climb at the twelve and twenty four mile markers.

But, in spite of all that, the course is not outside of my athletic ability, at least as an age group finisher. As race day approached, I had radical swings in confidence levels that went from believing I would set my personal record to a spectacular failure on the first loop of the bike.

In 2007, I finished the Wisconsin Ironman in 15:10:42, so I decided to make 15 hours my goal. I honestly didn’t know if I could do it or not. The hilly course favors lighter athletes and at 210 pounds I am definitely not “lighter.”

It seems incomplete to gloss over how much fun we had hanging around Lake Placid in the days before the race, but it is equally impossible to tell about the myriad of details that go into those days. I’ll just say that we spent several days laughing and enjoying ourselves in between moments of abject terror when thoughts of the race suddenly interjected themselves into our consciousness.

I had my daughter with me, and my cousin and her husband showed up Saturday afternoon. Matt’s sister’s bought shirts that said IronMatt on them, and screamed IRONMAN! every time either of us approached. It was a huge amount of fun, and made me laugh every time.

Even with all of the fun, the building intensity of the race could not be ignored. There was a long and difficult course in front of us, and the anticipation could be seen on the faces of every athlete in Lake Placid . I was no exception to this rule.

Pre-Race Morning

Matt and I spent a few minutes with Sabine, and then she went off to finish her own pre-race rituals. There are plenty of last minute things to do, including body marking, pumping the bike tires, dropping off the special needs bags and finally climbing into the wetsuits.

We did all of this on autopilot, making small jokes and last minute “nervous stomach” runs to the porta-johns. Then, finally it was time to walk down to the water to await the starting cannon.

Before we could even get to the lake, the cannon fired!

BOOM!

The race had started without us! Matt and I exchanged panicked looks and then laughed. That was the start for the Pro race, and we had 10 minutes before our race would start.

The Swim (2.4 Miles)

I waded out into the water, gave one last “terrorist fist bump” to Matt before swimming out to find my starting position. Normally I ask the people around me how fast they expect to swim. If I am surrounded by people who swim an hour and five minutes, and I swim an hour thirty then I know to move back a bit. The faster swimmers won’t wait for me, so if I don’t want to get run over I had better start behind them.

This race was different, though, because the faster swimmers were all lined up along the starting line and the slower swimmers lined up on the beach. There were more than fifty yards between them, with only me and one other guy floating in the middle.

I looked at the other guy and said “Aren’t they going to move up?”

"I am from France ! Third time! Good Luck!” he replied in his thick accent.

I laughed and gave him the thumbs up, then moved up to the starting line. It would be half a lap before the people on the beach could catch up, even if they were ten minutes faster than me. I had saved 2 minutes even before the race started!

An interesting thing about the swim in Lake Placid is that there is a yellow nylon rope ten feet below the surface linking the buoys. Whatever it’s intended function, it serves the same purpose as the line on the bottom of a swimming pool. You don’t need to navigate, just swim the line.

Unfortunately, everyone wants to swim the line and there is just no way for twenty five hundred people to swim there. It’s a meat grinder, and if you swim the line you are going to take a beating.

I moved off the line and got ready to start the race.

BOOM!

This time, the cannon was for me and I started out with a lot of power in my stroke. I was directly behind some very fast swimmers, and I wanted to take advantage of the draft for as long as I could hold on.

I was really taking a pounding, but I could feel the speed through the water. If I could stay here for a while, I’d have a pretty good swim. Then I looked down and saw a yellow line under me. Good God, I’m swimming the wire. A hand landed on my legs and shoved them down. I pulled with my arms and kicked harder. An elbow struck my head. I ignored it and focused on the wire.

In addition to easy navigation, the wire is the shortest way to complete the swim. I may be getting beat up, but at least I wouldn’t be swimming any extra distance. There was no way for me to get off the wire, since swimmers were all around me. Like it or not this is where I would be for at least the first lap.

I wasn’t getting beaten too badly but I did have a few times where I got run over. I also ran over a few people, but in all I felt I was having a pretty good swim. The wire wasn’t so bad.

At the end of the first loop we ran out on to the beach and across the timing mat and the guy next to me said “I want to apologize. I have been beating the crap out of you for thirty minutes”

“Have I been giving as good as I am getting?”

“Yeah.”

“No worries, lets do it again.”

With that, we dove back into the water and made a bee line for the wire. The second loop was more of the same and I came out of the water with a personal record of 1:21:44. Ten minutes faster than my Wisconsin time! It was shaping up to be a great race!

The Bike (112 Miles)

I ran through the crowds pumping my fists in the air, I’d already broken one record and was excited to get going on the next event. I saw our superfan families wearing their silver wigs and yelled “PR SWIM!” as I ran past (they heard “blahblahswim!” but cheered anyway).

For the first time, I realized that it was raining. It wasn’t a light drizzle, but a full downpour. I though that it was good that it was pouring rain, because rain this hard wouldn’t last very long.

As it turned out it didn’t rain for long... only fifteen hours.

I grabbed my bike and got started on the ride. In the first several miles of the race, we climb from 1,600 feet to 2,202 feet. The grade isn’t super steep, but it seems to go on forever. I pushed hard on the pedals until I realized that my legs were starting to burn. Oops, it’s not a good idea to burn on the first 10 miles of a 112 mile ride. I backed off the power a little and got into a lower gear. I was able to spin out the hill but my legs were still pumped.

The downhill to Keene is amazing. In dry conditions I would have been doing sixty miles an hour, but in torrential rain I didn’t dare. (Matt dared, he zinged through the section at full speed... woah). I grabbed the back brake and continued to accelerate. Then I grabbed the front brake too, and still continued to speed up.

Finally I squeezed hard on both handles and brought the speed down to a fast but comfortable pace. I sailed downhill for five or ten minutes. My legs recovered nicely, and my heart rate came down to a resting rate. If it wasn’t for the rain pelting my face it would have been a very pleasant section. I tipped my head down to take the rain on the helmet instead of directly in the face and zoomed down the hill.

I grabbed a garbage bag from an aid station to use as a raincoat. It was going to be a long day and I didn’t want to be cold.

The next section wasn’t too difficult but I was careful to leave some strength in reserve. At the end of the loop there would be a twelve mile long climb that went from 800 feet of elevation to 2000 feet of elevation. Of course, it would also be at the end of the second loop. I needed to save something for that climb.

On the out-and-back section of the course I could see how many athletes were in front of me. It looked like half the field, and I added some power to the pedals. Given my running, I knew that if I was going to improve my position in the race, it would have to be on the bike.

I cheered to Matt as we passed and yelled “Go Fast!” Then I realized that “Go IronMatt” would have been better. Oh well, maybe when they make the movie I’ll tell them to change that bit of history.

The next few miles were great. I was passing people two at a time and my legs felt strong. Then I made the turn past our campsite. This was the beginning of the long hill and it was time to use the reserve energy.

I don’t want to pretend that a twelve mile, 1200 foot climb is easy, but when I got to the top I was surprised that it wasn’t as bad as I had predicted. I was at the end of the first loop and I hadn’t blown up. The thought inspired me.

As I sailed through Lake Placid , waving to our superfan’s in silver wigs, I decided that the first loop didn’t hurt too bad. That was a bit of a problem, since every section of an Ironman is supposed to hurt. I didn’t push hard enough to hurt, so I hadn’t gone as fast as I could have. I could go faster and I decided do exactly that on the second loop.

The second loop was a more difficult version of the first. I used more power and higher gears, and passed a lot of people on the hills. The second time, the twelve mile climb hurt. It was just what I had planned to do, and I knew that I had done well on the bike.

I finished with a 7:07:00 at an average of 15.7 miles per hour. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was ten minutes faster than Wisconsin . I was still on track for the fifteen hour finish time.

The Marathon (26.2 Miles)

I grabbed my running shoes and trotted out of the transition area, and as I did I tossed the plastic bag I had been wearing into the garbage. The rain was finally starting to lighten up and I hoped I would see the sun.

I didn’t.

The rain never stopped, and by the second aid station I was wearing another plastic bag which I wore for the rest of the race. I used my typical run-walk-run style, and I wasn’t feeling great. The run course is very hilly and my feet had been soaking wet for eight hours. I could already feel blisters beginning to form.

I saw Sabine on the end of her first loop, and Matt a few miles behind her. We shouted encouragement to each other and kept going.

At some point, a guy named Joe caught up with me. He was doing his first Ironman, and was a much faster runner than me. We started playing a game where he would pick a point and then blast off towards it at an eight minute per mile pace. I would run my typical eleven minute pace. He would stop running at whatever landmark we picked, and I would keep running until I caught up to him.

It was miserable but effective. Using him as a pace setter forced me to push myself and we were making progress. We used this game for miles and miles.

Eventually, late in the second loop, I was no longer able to keep up with Joe, and waved him on. He waved back and kept running.

Now, my legs were cramped and my feet blistered. I was feeling the chill of the rain even inside the garbage bag rain coat and every step hurt. It was hurting like hell, and in a strange way it was comforting. I knew I was going as fast as I possibly could, and that’s all anyone can do.

I came across a runner who was shivering and walking at a snails pace. I asked him if he was OK, and he said “I’m hypothermic. I have to get out of the race”

I gave him my plastic bag in spite of his protests and told him to finish. He was only a few miles from the end, and had hours to get there. I hope he did.

At the next aid station I got another bag, and the volunteers were handing out space blankets. I stuck with what had been working, and wore the bag for the rest of the race. Water was dripping off my hat and I started matching my pace to the pace of the droplets. Anything to take my mind off my legs.

As I got to the final hill on the course, I checked my watch. It was 9:20pm and I had a bit more than a mile to run. I could see that I would make my fifteen hour goal, but another thought snuck into my head. If I could do a fifteen minute pace for one last mile, I could finish at 14:45.

A fifteen minute mile isn’t exactly a record breaking pace. In fact it’s hardly a fast walk. But most of the way was uphill, and I was out of gas. The last mile may as well have been a hundred miles.

Still, the allure of a 14:45 finish was strong and I reminded myself that it’s supposed to hurt like hell. That part, at least, I had gotten right.

I picked up the pace, nearly out pacing the geriatric couple who were making their way up the sidelines. The lady looked at me and waved a clapping hand noise maker and said “good job.”

I didn’t have the energy to thank her.

The last mile took forever, but little encouragements cropped up. I passed Joe on the other side of the turnaround and slapped his hand as we passed. The sounds of the finish line cheers started to reach my ears and I could feel how close I was. I glanced at my watch every twenty minutes only to discover that twenty seconds had passed. I tossed the plastic bag at the last aid station, and forced myself on.

In the last stretch, my daughter was standing at the chute waiting to run with me across the finish line. She reached out to my hand, and I told her to run. She took off running, dragging me along for the last fifty yards. I hadn’t run this fast in fifteen miles.

Finally, we crossed the finish line. With six seconds remaining I did what was, for me, the impossible. I set my personal record on the run and finished at 14:45:54!

Breakfast Club Summer Week Two-ish

2008-07-17T08:22:00.001-04:00

It might be week #2 for most of you, but it was week #1 for me. Rumor has it that Gary showed up last week? Hmmm... didn't see him this morning, though. Given that I was AWOL last week, however, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for this week.

Speaking of attendance roll call, it was a veritable chickfest, with a whole four token females on the ice. Martha will be shifting between Wednesdays and Thursdays, so I should be able to get a spy report when I see her at soccer on Sundays if we end up on different mornings. So, boys, stay on your best behavior :)

Not that anyone behaves poorly. Far from it. Hockey players are good people! We are "there" for each other. Like Geoff, for example. Lyle couldn't be there this morning, so Geoff jumped up and filled in. He was even there before Joe and Scott! And doggone, is Geoff peppy. It's hard to drag around the ice, all hang dog and sleep deprived, when Geoff is running the show. "Pep" and enthusiasm were helpful today, seeing as we spent quite a bit of time humbling ourselves with..spinning in circles. Yup. You read that right. "Help, Lyle, I'm dizzy!" "Laura, you were dizzy when you got here, and we already knew that." Ah, but I'm leaving some things out.

We started with some stationary warm up puck dribbling and draws. Then warmed it up a bit more by skating laps with tight turns to the boards and a corresponding change of direction on the whistles. Head's up!

There's only an hour to work with in the summer, so we quickly split into three groups. One group, led by the ever sanguine Scott, was focusing on stride technique. Balance becomes all that more critical when you've got your stick over your shoulders and your hands on your stick like a ox yoke. Can you say "face plant"? Luckily, we were all masters of grace, and our faces lived to see another day. And, no, skating with the puck should not mean you devolve into a choppy upright robot. Your stride should stay low and balanced even when you're trying to herd that silly little puck around.

Another group was in the care of Goeff, focusing on passing. Stationary passes on your fore and backhands. Focusing on eliminating the "thwack". If it's a thwacky pass, then you're teeing up instead of playing hockey, and your pass most likely won't go where or how you wanted it. If it's a thwacky receive, then chances are the puck is hopping over you stick. Catch and release, always moving your stick with the direction of the flow. Ever the spark plug, Geoff was jumping into the mix and working with random players. Passing on the move, give and go, you name it, it's all still passing and you need to keep that catch and release smooth!

The third group was in the humble care of Papa Bear, a.k.a. Joe. Here, was where all that twirling came back with a vengence. Surprise, surprise, it's a rare game situation where you're able to skate end-to-end without having to evade something while you're trying to hang onto the puck. Go figure! So Joe had us working on a variety of turns and moves, all the while keeping that puck firmly captured against our stick blade. Pull it back with you, then evade with a 270 to your backhand...or a 450 to your forehand. And, oh yeah, keep your head up, if you're serious about this, because if you're the defender and you're trying to set up your breakout, seeing where the backcheckers and your teammates are is often a useful skill.

And just because we could, we finished off with a lively pair of half-ice scrimmages. No goalies? No problem. It's only a goal if you get the post or crossbar. A change of possession necessitates a pass out to the coach and back in. Four on four, or five on five, depending on the depth of the pool. Everyone pulled at least one doubled-shift when the change-ups ensued. Guaranteeing plenty of smiles, and another successful morning of breakfast clubbing.

Hurry back, Lyle, and in the meantime we'll keep our heads up and our eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Countdown to Summer Clubbing

2008-07-07T08:19:00.001-04:00

T-minus one week, and I'm ready. Are you? Of course, I am speaking of the start of the summer session of the Breakfast Club. Alyson knows the registration details, but the last I had heard there were spots for either Wednesday or Thursday mornings, starting next week and running through August. While you are indeed very much late to sign up, your money is still good around these parts, and I'm sure we could all skooch-over and make room for you at the grown-up table :)

It seems like it's been ages since I've seen you. How have you been? Gosh, there's so much to catch up on.

My spring "men's league" team season has waned to summer. I'm still an Iceman, still playing Fridays and Sundays in Troy. Soccer (outdoor) season started June 1st (soccer is women-only, in case you were wondering). The Centurions' home fields are in Farmington. We just finished a weekend tournament in Canton.

Can you believe I'm planning for fall/winter women's travel hockey?? Yeah, OK, actually that is not so surprising, huh? Anyway, the Stingrays will be starting their ninth year (my third with the team), and we're looking for a new coach. Our past coach is moving to Colorado. No, Shannon did not need to move across the country to escape us... We have our home ice at 8:30pm on Mondays at U-M Dearborn. Come on! Now's your chance! When else do you get to boss around 16 women?? If you're interested, or if you think you know someone who works in or near "Ford country" who'd be interested, please drop me a line at stingrays@campslenzak.com.

Well, that's about all the time we have for catching up right now. I'll see you soon, right? I will miss the first week of B.C. due to a poorly timed family vacation (gotta talk to those folks, they really need to work harder at appreciating where my priorities truly lay...)

Breakfast Club Spring Ending Session

2008-05-28T10:58:00.002-04:00

Uhh! No way! Say it ain't so!

This was the last week of spring breakfast club??! It snuck up way too quickly. Maybe because Easter was so early this year, maybe because spring started out hot but then cooled back toward March weather when it was May, or maybe it's because I just can't count that well.

Either way, it's been eight weeks, come and gone. And now what am I going to do until the summer session starts in July?

Well, for starters, I'm going to throw down the gauntlet and try to embarrass Kirk and Gary and Todd into signing up for the next session while the May 31st discount is still available. Skate with me, AND save 10%. What more could you want?

What more could you want, versus what more do you need?

Well, for starters, I need to apologize to one of the other youth coaches. I let something simmer and fester, and then managed to really goof things up. Ugh, been kicking myself for a week over it...

And then there's want. As in I want to get better. Each week, each skate, each time on the bench. Maybe measured in inches instead of miles, but better nonetheless. Today's one-on-one lane drill was a good example. Control that defensive gap, and make the challenge at the blue line. Even with my stick upside down, I managed a few poke checks that made me smile. A smug little "yeah for me" that keeps you coming back.

We did a lot of one-on-one, two on's, mix and match. There are 10 skaters and two goalies in any given game, but it's really a series of one-on's and two-on's that ebb and flow. So our warm-up drill, two skaters up around the center circle and back at the net, left and right lane...it's about pace and positioning and keeping your feet moving so the goalie isn't quite sure when that puck is releasing. And the one-on-one's, again, are about pacing and using speed changes to your advantage. How about those two-on-one's? Now you've got options and choices. No half-way's allowed, right? Go big or stay home, as the saying goes. If you're on the attack with the odd-man advantage, how are you going to use that? If you're defending, how are you going to neutralize?

Moving up in numbers but not necessarily complexity, we did some 3-on-2's, kind of like the second part of a breakout drill. Just because it's 3-on-2, though, don't forget that all you really have is one set of one-on's and a second set of two-on's. If your defensive partner is challenging the puck carrier, you've got the make sure there isn't any good out for the puck carrier to pass to one of the other two forwards. If you are the third forward in, you need to see where the challenges are being set, so that you are the option for your partners and so that you are presenting a distraction for the defense and the goalie.

No morning is complete without a little scrimmage. Always fun, and always a good chance to try to put into action the things that Lyle and Scott tried drilling into our noggins. It actually looks like hockey out there!

Go Wings!

See you in July, and in the meantime keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club: Spring Hockey II

2008-05-15T08:30:00.002-04:00

A little light on the turnout today. But not to worry - Joe, Scott and Lyle kept us quite busy.

First, some deking. Find a partner, one defends while your teammate practices drawing to the forehand, drawing to the backhand, passing it under your stick, whatever it takes to get it past the defender...which shouldn't have been that hard, especially since the defender's stick was upside down..and they were standing still.

Yep, shouldn't have been too hard.

Next, some passing. Find a partner, spread out cross ice, line up facing shoulder to shoulder and pass on your forehand. Hard. Tape to tape. Now, open up and face your partner. Same thing. Now, one-timers. Now, do it while traveling backwards and forewards, always facing your teammate.

Doggoned if we weren't beat and sweating...just from passing!

Moving on, we broke into three groups.

One was with Scott, working on stationary one-timer shots from the left, right and center key. If your body isn't in the right position to start with, how exactly is it that you think yor one-timer will be that smooth catch, load, release that it needs to be?

The middle group, with Lyle, was working on passing around the circle. Just like tightening lugnuts, the puck was passed around the circle in a star pattern. One puck. Then two at a time. Then three. Four. All the way up to where everyone's passing and receiving at the same time. Heads up! Pass to where they need it, or else the whole rotation falls apart.

Meanwhile, Joe had the other end working on shooting on the move. Skate eight's around the face-off circles, catch the pass as you're coming around the top and release all in one fluid motion. Sometimes you're catching where you're already in good positon, but the other half of that eight you'll be catching on your fade. And passers: send it crisp and to where the skater is going to need to be. Timing and accuracy matter.

All of that sounds so easy. Yeah, easy...not.

Great skate, though, despite my lingering inadequacies. I haven't pulled that kind of sweat in a while.

As if all of that didn't leave us sweaty enough (yeah, Tom, it's barely 7 am, and shhhheee-ooot, we've got another half hour to go), we moved on to some lane skating. Up, accelerate around the center circle and full speed to the other end. In batches of three. The first hundred or so rounds, we avoided bowling for teammates. But as the gas tanks started hitting vapors, the edges weren't as solid around those accelerating turns. Lyle said wiping out was good, though, because it meant you were pushing out of your comfort zone. But then he had a Fruedian slip, and let us know that falling was just plain amusing, too. Yeah, yeah, I'm here to learn and also to dish up your weekly fix of entertaining moments. Win-win all the way around, eh Lyle?

Let's put a bow on this day by finishing with some zone games. Greens trying to score westbound, yellows shooting eastbound. If you were in the west and east ends, you were either trying to score or trying to prevent it. The middle zoners were the transition team, snagging that which was intentionally or accidentally cleared, and sending it back into the appropriate scoring zone for their color team. Three pucks in play at all times. Every two to three minutes or so (or, in Lyle time, every 45-60 seconds) rotate zones.

Besides being Kirkless, my morning was a success. I made sure to dish sufficient portions of sarcasm upon Lyle, enough so that he hopefully didn't feel deprived by Kirk's lack of attendance. It's an obligation that I take seriously.

Keep your head up, and your eyes on the goal.

Spring Hockey

2008-05-01T07:16:00.002-04:00

Ah, yes, spring hockey. You would think it'd be easier getting up, seeing as the sun is rising earlier than when we're leaving the rink. But, the sun is also setting later, and so we're doing things like yard work after dinner and going to bed more tired than we did in the winter. And, of course, those 10 p.m. starts for the playoff games certainly aren't helping to make it easy to get to hockey in the morning.

But here we are ... even if we're a bit sore from raking, and even if we're sleep-deprived from watching the game last night. I was out of town for two weeks, one for vacation, and another for unforeseen scheduling conflicts. So, boy, was I surprised to such a bright spring crowd this morning. It looked like a sea of jonquils! All of that bright yellow and grass green! Talk about spring hockey. Definitely spring colors, and it largely appeared to be a bunch of hockey players, so put them together and you've got your spring hockey.

I saw some new faces this morning. Welcome, boys. We're all here to learn, and it's good to see some new afficiandos of this great sport. Don't feel too intimidated; you'll be amazed at what you look like in just a few months. Commiting to clinics is the fastest way to rapidly improve both your skills and your confidence. Lyle and Scott are great (no they didn't pay me to say that) and your fellow clubbers are the salt of the earth. We had some interesting issues this morning. Kirk broke a blade on his skate. Clean in half. You'd think he would have been "out" for the rest of the day, huh? Nope, no such luck you slacker! The rink fixed Kirk up with a rental skate, and five minutes later he was back in the mix. Me, on the other hand, I felt out of the mix this morning. Not due to anyone excluding me, not at all. More due to me not really having my brain fully engaged. Like in the warm-up drill -- skate with the puck in a "S" path from one end to the other, shoot on the goalie. Should have been pretty easy. So what was the deal with losing the puck, huh? Then some one-on-ones down the ice. The way we did it this week wasn't so much for honing defensive tactics, though. Lyle wanted the puck carriers to get confidence in their deking. Stick deking and body deking. Next, some skating and passing. Pass it up to center ice, and while the center group passes the puck around within the circle, the two skaters go up and then back. Receive the pass, crash the net, and if your first shot doesn't score then your trailing partner should be looking to capitalize on the rebound. The goalies, of course, were focusing on not giving up any rebounds. And let's not forget "bowling for teammates", a.k.a. skating in circles in groups of three. This is where I really caused chaos. Sorry! I hope you're not too bruised-up!

Some parting shots? Well, I was going to say something about Jason's goalie cut jersey, making him look like a parachuter with one of those flying squirrel suits. But I've decided not to say anything after all. Same thing about Kirk's loaner skate, being in those Batman colors of black and red. But again I've decided not. Because heaven knows, Kirk might actually dust off that keyboard and hunt-and-peck another column one of these days, and then I'll be the one getting roasted online. So keep your head up and your eyes on the goal!

Breakfast Club Session II: with Kirk

2008-03-19T15:08:00.002-04:00

Last class of the winter session and just another plain ol' excellent day on the ice. Lyle and Scottie had us on the move from the first minute. I kinda like to ease into it a bit but not with these guys. No time off during class I'm reminded from the coaching staff. Thanks for noticing. Excellent hard skating one-on-one drills today. All eyes were on the two bulls going after it, Todd and Scottie. There was fur flying every match-up and entertaining to watch. One or both players were down on the ice after each drill. A possible penalty or two but the refs didn't call it. All of the one-on-one drills today were very game-like situations and great practice. Good drill tempo today. Since I managed to destroy most drills last week by going first, I went last for each drill. Lyle tagged me as the master drill buster.

Skated at the Joe last Thursday, another great experience. Played 3 lines of 4 on 4. Good thing we had 3 lines because guys and gals were gassed by the end. Did you notice the hardness of the ice? The boards were really solid. The player benches weren't that fancy either. Oh yes, the big difference is 20,000 empty red seats watching every move you make. Check out the website, Courtney took some pictures. We did have 2 maintenance folks cleaning the glass, I'm sure they were entertained compared to watching the pros. We did see the Dallas Stars equipment folks setting up the players equipment for the days skate and the game that evening. Nice stuff and bundles and bundles of sticks. Saw some of the Red Wings making there way in including Chris Chelios, the inspiration for us older guys.

Okay, so the NHL'ers have nothing on us; we are professionals too, albeit at slightly lower levels. This is a year-round sport folks so make sure you enroll in the spring and summer sessions. You need to keep improving and can't slip by taking time off. Actually folks, we know hockey is a very difficult sport. I think progress is measured in inches not yards. Today for example, I felt I had no game at all as oppossed to last week, I felt I was making progress. That's the nature of the game but if you look at your game in 3 or 6 month increments, you'll see the improvement. The improvement comes when you practice new aspects of your game not by doing the same stuff you always do. I think that's where the BC comes in, it forces you out of the comfort zone. Lyle, Scottie and Joe do a great job at that. Okay I'll say it, sometimes you want to cuss the instructors for turning us into pretzels but that's all part of the joyful learning experience.

Lastly folks remember the other reason we show up at the rink at 5:30, there are no finer people than hockey people. See ya at the spring session, Kirk out.

Breakfast Club Session II with Laura

2008-03-11T17:09:00.002-04:00

The token female from Wednesday does a little date shifting this week, and lo and behold I find that there are three sister skaters who skate with the Tuesday Farmington group. A virtual swarm o’ sistahs in hockey terms. We have Martha, Fiona and Sarah. Courtney, hey, I thought you were clubbing, too? If you were there, we could have had a full chick line during the half-ice scrimmage at the end.

But I’m jumping ahead.

So what’s wrong with jumping ahead, anyway? Not the kind of jumping ahead where you try to take what is due to someone else. No, I mean jumping ahead as in improving your own position. Improving your own situation does not necessarily mean someone else has to suffer. You can jump ahead by skating faster. You can jump ahead by keeping your head up and “on a swivel” so you are always aware of where the play is going. You can jump ahead by controlling the puck. You can jump ahead by zinging a blistering wrist shot. All the kinds of things we work on each week. Why? So we can jump ahead.

I can’t comprehend playing beer league hockey at my current level for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine never getting better. But, if all you do is show up once each week to play beer league hockey with a bunch of other fools, the likelihood that you’re going to improve your game is remote at best. In all likelihood, to be blunt, you will probably not only fail to get better but you will probably get worse over time.

In a game, you rarely take risks. You do what you do because you’ve always done it, and you don’t do something you’ve never done because you’ve never done it. A very convoluted way of saying you stay in your comfort zone. Unless you play on a team that takes itself way more serious than any beer league team that I’ve ever seen, your team will never practice together. You will simply play games week after week...in your comfort zone. Which, as you get older and your body isn’t quite as strong or quick as it used to be, your comfort zone starts getting narrower. Until it less resembles a zone and looks more like a rut.

I enjoy playing hockey way too much to let myself fall into a rut. If I ever allow myself to feel satisfied rotting in my rut, please, do me a favor and invoke hockey euthanasia on me.

So keep your head up, and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club Session II with Laura

2008-03-05T08:06:00.001-05:00

oops, forgot to blog from last week. It would seem that both Kirk and Todd were AWOL, so you are stuck with the view from the Laura once again.

We had a good turnout last week for the Wednesday morning class. We ended with a scrimmage, I do remember that, because we had (amazingly enough) not only a good turnout but also a good pairing mix of greens versus maroons. And, no, I did not say morons, I said maroons, as in jersey colors. Although sometimes I wonder if my performance in the drills has unfortunately earned me the title of moron. That's why we call it practice, right? Practice, practice, practice. If we had it perfect, we'd be getting paid to play hockey. I don't know about you, but I think I need to keep my day job because I'd be a very hungry hockey player if I had to feed my family based upon what I could earn playing hockey.

But that doesn't discourage me. Not in the least. The transitions drills are a good case in point. Getting that nice crisp hop so that your blade doesn't drag in the slightest... yes, definitely made some progress there. Maybe because I've spent these first few years of my limited hockey career playing defense, I have a special appreciation for a good transition. It can mean the difference between getting beat versus getting the glory for the poke-check of the gods.

The one-on-ones reinforced the need for solid defensive skills. Skate up, transition, maintain proper gap control down the lane, and then make the challenge before the player gets across the blue line. You guys who can skate fast and shoot, yeah, yeah, that's all well and good, but you're not a complete player if you can't shut down someone just like you when the tables are turned.

Actually, truth be told, I graduated to being the utility player on my women's travel team, and I have to credit that to the things we work on and try to perfect each week. That was a goal of mine -- to be the utility player. To be the player that my team could turn to and ask to have play forward or to play defense. So check that box. Now I just need to graduate to being the player they turn to for every penalty kill...

We're almost at the end of the winter session, and my registration for spring is hot off the presses. I don't know about you, but I have lots of skills that I still have yet to perfect, and I know the only way I'm going to do that is to stay dedicated to attending clinics like the Breakfast Club. So watch out, the queen of the penalty kill is coming at'cha! In the meantime, keep your head up and your eyes on the goal.

Breakfast Club Session II with Laura

2008-02-20T08:38:00.001-05:00

It's good to be back. In the week that I was gone, everyone must have gotten better. Either that, or my week off was showing.

A little light on the turnout today, only 13, 10 of whom were maroon so no scrimmage today. But that's OK, because Scott and Lyle kept us going so hard that we wouldn't have had much gas left for a scrimmage anyway.

Two goalies, which was nice. Full ice 1-oh's for the warm-ups, take it right lane, center and then left. Next? 2-oh's down the one side, passing back and forth. Whoever doesn't take the shot curls up and back, while the shooter takes a pass from the corner and you go back 1-on-1 to the other end.

Continuing on with the theme, one D, one back-checker and two forwards. Ready, set, go! Mix it up, take turns, test yourself in each position. That's why it's called practice!

Oops, can't forget the long passes. Cross ice, first round you're skating along the blue, pass across and then curl toward the zone, get the give-n-go, and go go go! Next time through, take off along the boards, curl across along the blue, catch that long pass and bust it for the net.

One end? Lyle's working you on transitions. So many different ways to work on transitions. Going around the end, facing the boards the whole time, switch those feet from forward cross-wise to backwards cross-wise. When you get it going, the rhythm is intoxicating. The hockey equivalent of a runner's high.

Other end? My personal fav! The cross-ice one-on's and two-on's. Beat each other up, then when the whistle blows you skate away completely gassed and grinning from ear to ear. Great way to start the day!

Keep your head up, and your eys on the goal.