When I was a much, much younger man, back in the late 70's and 80's, I loved a band called Genesis. In fact, I still do. They played just the kind of music I love, and had a string of hits well into the 90's. But I never got to see them live during their heyday, because they never came to Denver. Phil Collins came a few times as a solo act, and I enjoyed that, but the music was different than when the trio played together.
When they split up later in the 90's, I never thought I'd get the chance to see the group play. Then about four years ago, they got together for a reunion tour that would include a night at the Pepsi Center here in Denver. Well, after spontaneously shitting my pants, I jumped on line the first day and scored good seats. I couldn't have been more excited- my older brother Dale and I would finally get a chance to see the band we'd loved for almost 30 years.
We showed up, along with a shitload of other people around our age, and had a great time for two hours. They played almost all the songs we love, but because their library is so huge, left out a few that we would have liked to hear. It would have taken all night to play every one of their best songs, so we understood.
But there was something just a bit off. The music didn't quite have the same intensity as the original albums, and Phil had to sing a couple of keys lower, because he couldn't hit the high notes anymore. It didn't make the concert bad- it was just different.
It was then that I realized that it was because these guys were just getting fuckin' old. The boys were in their mid 50's, they all gained a little weight, and just couldn't quite bring the same game that they had as younger men. I only ever heard the songs as they were played on the CD's, never live, so I had nothing for comparison over the years. And honestly, it made me a little bit sad.
I bring this up because I just saw a concert of theirs over the holidays called When In Rome, which was recorded in Italy during that same reunion tour. I really enjoyed it, but again noticed that they couldn't play the way they did twenty years earlier. But they really seemed to enjoy performing together again, and the huge crowd in Rome loved the show.
Seeing that concert has made me realize something: the exact same thing is happening to me as a hockey player. Now, please don't get me wrong. I could never play hockey like Phil Collins plays drums. But I'd like to think that at one time, I could at least hold my own in a pretty high level skate.
But these last couple of years, I've discovered that I just can't do the things I did ten years ago. I used to have a pretty decent glove hand, but I tore a rotator cuff a few seasons ago, and it just doesn't have the same snap anymore. I can't kick out for the low shots as far as I did in the past, and both knees are so beat to shit, it takes an extra second to get back up after going down to block a shot.
So just like Phil and the boys in Genesis, I'm playing in a lower key these days. But you know what? I'm enjoying the game more now than at any other time in my life. And here's why:
1) If someone would have told me 20 years ago that I would still be playing hockey three or four times a week at age 53, I would have told them they were fuckin' nuts. After playing so much hockey, plus 25 years of soccer, I thought my chubby ass would have been done long ago. I'm playing on borrowed time here, and I know it.
2) I'm taking this shit a lot less seriously than I used to. When I was playing at a higher level, I wouldn't be able to sleep if I had a bad game. And I was so competitive, I was constantly barking at my teammates if they made mistakes, which I'm still not very proud of. But I've dialed down the intensity a lot over the past few years, though I still do die a little bit every time I let a goal in. And yes, I yell "fuck" every time I have to dig the puck out of my net.
Okay, so I'm still a little competitive.
3) Here's the most important reason I'm loving the game more than ever: I get to hang out two nights a week with my best friends. And I think most of us are to the point now where the beers in the locker room after the game are at least as important as what happens out on the ice. We tell jokes, tell stories about our kids, rehash the game, and bust each other's balls for over an hour. It's brilliant.
This past month, I've been hobbling on a bad knee, so I have had to sit out some games while waiting for the damn thing to heal well enough to try again. But you can bet your ass I've still been there every week, "coaching" from the bench, and hanging with the boys afterwards.
Recently, I read a story about Phil Collins, and how a degenerative back condition has forced him to retire from playing the drums. I wondered if he would miss touring with his mates from Genesis, and what he'd do to occupy his time.
I know that day is coming for me too. The injuries are mounting, it's taking too long to recover, and goalie is the type of position in hockey where it hurts the team too much if you can't be at least halfway competitive. Sometimes you can bury a position player on a line with good teammates, but there's nowhere to hide if you're a keeper.
But I'll worry about that day later. For now, I'll just keep singing a few keys lower, and playing with less intensity than the good old days. Like my man Phil, I'm touring one more time with my best friends, and loving the fuck out of it while I still can.
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I am reminded of the women who got outrageously drunk, stumbled out of the bar and tripped on the steps and fell headfirst into a garbage can. An old indian walked by, looked in the can, took a whiff and said, "White man crazy. She has a few good years left." Don't worry Al, you have a few good years left.
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