Age and treachery really do beat youth and skill.
It's true: age, treachery, and a little good goaltending (pats self on back), really do beat youth and skill. I never wanted to believe it, since it meant that I was either old, or destined to lose. This one time, though, I'll take it and be happy.
Our little summer pick up team (last place in the league, with a single point, for our one tie), just knocked off the number one team. I might be the youngest guy we have, at 34. The other team doesn't have anyone old enough to buy beer on it. They are all kids from a local high school. They showed up with someone's little sister in net, a full bench, and the usual teenage kid attitude. We showed up with 6 guys and a goalie. We are, uh, veteran players. (That's the nice way of saying, old).
Their poor goalie was just hosed. I'm not sure how old she was, but she looked and played like she was mid-teens at the oldest. I think she stopped 2 or 3 shots, mostly by freezing like a deer in the headlights and getting hit by the puck. It was a crappy thing for them to do to her, putting her out there like that.
Which is where age and treachery come in. My guys threw rubber on net every chance they had, from near, far, and everywhere in between. We got about 10-12 shots, and scored on 8. Did I feel bad for the kid in net at the other end? Yes, very. Bad enough to pass up the chance to teach the young punks a lesson? Hah! Not a chance!
I played so hard that I thought I was going to barf more than once. I leaned on my knees before faceoffs, mouth hanging open, chest heaving. The "flow" of the game was, they shot, I stopped it, they shot some more, I stopped some more, and then we either iced it, or we sprung a breakaway and scored. Mostly we iced it, or tried to. The kids pretty much held the zone at will, and got whatever shots they wanted. The refs helped them by calling every single penalty against us, then ejecting one of our players so we got to play a man down for a third of the game. I let in 4, and I was well over the magic .900 mark in save percentage. I would guess I stopped somewhere in the 50-60 shot range, which is just nuts in amatuer hockey.
To give credit where credit is due, my posts helped me out on 2 or 3 occassions, as did some advice a friend once gave me: "Stop thinking about what you're doing. You're at your best when you just close your eyes and thrash around like Dominic Hasek." (no, I don't actually close my eyes, even when I get shot in the head) To quote another friend, "Only two things have to happen for us to win: you stop a lot of shots, and I'll score enough goals." He and the other guys came through on Thursday, no doubt.
Going in, I was sure that we were going to get beat. Really sure. Every game, these kids sandbag for two periods, even give the other team a lead, and then just score however many goals they need in the 3rd period to pull out a win by 2-3 goals. They tried that with us. Even with them having a man advantage for half of the third period, I didn't let them come back. I started out determined to make them work for their goals, just to make them show us "old guys" some respect. I ended up determined to teach them a little lesson about being cocky jerks.
Favorite part of the night? They shot, I dropped made a butterfly save on the left post, slid on my knees, made a save in the middle, but left a lot of open net and a big rebound. One of the kids scooped it up, made a nice top-corner shot that should have gone in. Lacking anything else in the area, I stuck my head in front of it. It bounced off my helmet, fell down in front, where I covered it. As I lay on my face on the ice, trying to catch my breath, one of the kids slammed his stick, and said, "Oh, give me a fucking break! You gotta be kidding me!"
I like it when they do that.
Our little summer pick up team (last place in the league, with a single point, for our one tie), just knocked off the number one team. I might be the youngest guy we have, at 34. The other team doesn't have anyone old enough to buy beer on it. They are all kids from a local high school. They showed up with someone's little sister in net, a full bench, and the usual teenage kid attitude. We showed up with 6 guys and a goalie. We are, uh, veteran players. (That's the nice way of saying, old).
Their poor goalie was just hosed. I'm not sure how old she was, but she looked and played like she was mid-teens at the oldest. I think she stopped 2 or 3 shots, mostly by freezing like a deer in the headlights and getting hit by the puck. It was a crappy thing for them to do to her, putting her out there like that.
Which is where age and treachery come in. My guys threw rubber on net every chance they had, from near, far, and everywhere in between. We got about 10-12 shots, and scored on 8. Did I feel bad for the kid in net at the other end? Yes, very. Bad enough to pass up the chance to teach the young punks a lesson? Hah! Not a chance!
I played so hard that I thought I was going to barf more than once. I leaned on my knees before faceoffs, mouth hanging open, chest heaving. The "flow" of the game was, they shot, I stopped it, they shot some more, I stopped some more, and then we either iced it, or we sprung a breakaway and scored. Mostly we iced it, or tried to. The kids pretty much held the zone at will, and got whatever shots they wanted. The refs helped them by calling every single penalty against us, then ejecting one of our players so we got to play a man down for a third of the game. I let in 4, and I was well over the magic .900 mark in save percentage. I would guess I stopped somewhere in the 50-60 shot range, which is just nuts in amatuer hockey.
To give credit where credit is due, my posts helped me out on 2 or 3 occassions, as did some advice a friend once gave me: "Stop thinking about what you're doing. You're at your best when you just close your eyes and thrash around like Dominic Hasek." (no, I don't actually close my eyes, even when I get shot in the head) To quote another friend, "Only two things have to happen for us to win: you stop a lot of shots, and I'll score enough goals." He and the other guys came through on Thursday, no doubt.
Going in, I was sure that we were going to get beat. Really sure. Every game, these kids sandbag for two periods, even give the other team a lead, and then just score however many goals they need in the 3rd period to pull out a win by 2-3 goals. They tried that with us. Even with them having a man advantage for half of the third period, I didn't let them come back. I started out determined to make them work for their goals, just to make them show us "old guys" some respect. I ended up determined to teach them a little lesson about being cocky jerks.
Favorite part of the night? They shot, I dropped made a butterfly save on the left post, slid on my knees, made a save in the middle, but left a lot of open net and a big rebound. One of the kids scooped it up, made a nice top-corner shot that should have gone in. Lacking anything else in the area, I stuck my head in front of it. It bounced off my helmet, fell down in front, where I covered it. As I lay on my face on the ice, trying to catch my breath, one of the kids slammed his stick, and said, "Oh, give me a fucking break! You gotta be kidding me!"
I like it when they do that.
posted by Micah at 2:00 PM
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