Keep Cordelia In Your Thoughts

Hey kids, I don't usually ask much, but will you all do me a little favor? When you hit your knees in the next few days, could you please say a prayer for this little girl right here?



This cute little bugger is Cordelia Kmetz, who is the daughter of Timmy Kmetz, a fellow goalie in Dawg Nation and one of my better friends. Timmy's one of the few guys I can relate to- we text back and forth giving all the gory details about our games that we've played that week. He's a goalie junkie like I am- we both play at least three times a week, and usually more. He's 16 years younger than I am and lots better at the position, but he humors me while I rant, which I appreciate. Plus he's damn near as goofy as I am, which kind of comes with the goalie territory.

This coming Tuesday, Cordelia will be having open heart surgery at Children's Hospital in Denver to repair a chamber that has been faulty since birth. Without the surgery, her little heart could have serious issues in the future, so this just needs to get done, so everyone can stop worrying about it every day of their lives.

For those of you that aren't from around Denver, Children's Hospital is one of the top facilities in the western United States. I know if one of my kids ever needed help, I would take them there in a nanosecond (and I have, by the way). When all goes well with the surgery, she'll be there for 7-10 days, which I have to believe is pretty scary for a three year old (and her parents).

Timmy and I were talking at the ice arena last night, and he's no stranger to surgery, to say the least. He had bone cancer in his leg when he was a teenage kid, and has gone through 35 procedures. One leg is shorter than the other, and his shin looks like it's been hit repeatedly with a sledge hammer, but he leads a normal life and is one goal keeping sumbitch.

And he would go through every one of those 35 operations again if it meant that his daughter wouldn't have to endure her ordeal on Tuesday. For you guys out there that are parents, you know exactly what I'm talking about. There is absolutely nothing in this world worse than watching your kid suffer with a serious illness or injury. It's a horrible, helpless feeling, and you would give anything to take their place.

Something like this happened to me about 15 years ago. My oldest kid Mike was two tears old, and was leaning up against a window screen in the living room of the bi-level house we used to live in. Well, sure as hell, he pushed out the screen, and fell about eight feet head first onto a concrete patio.

When I got to him, the right side of his little skull was dented, and I knew we had a problem. We rushed him down to Children's, where we spent the longest and worst night of my life, waiting to see if he was bleeding into his brain, and whether he would need surgery.

Fortunately, his skull popped back into place, and there wasn't any bleeding inside his noggin. He had a fracture, but two year old kids' skulls aren't fully developed, so it kind of fixed itself. That's when I knew he truly was my kid- you can drop him on his head from eight feet, and not do any lasting damage.

But I'll never forget the anguish that I felt that night, watching him strapped to a board, scared to death, and looking at me to help him. I've never felt as helpless, and I'm sure Timmy and his wife Candi are probably feeling the same way.

So keep Cordelia in your thoughts, will you please? The Kmetz's have the entire Dawg Nation hockey family behind them (we have six teams- we're massive), and we know pretty soon, they're going to bring home a happy, healthy little girl with a good, working heart.

   

Lots Of Different "Guys" In Beer League Hockey

So I’m 53, and I’ve been playing goalie around town for a long time. I’ve worked my way up the ladder of playing levels over the years (and am currently free-falling back down that ladder, by the way). In that time, I’ve noticed that there are certain categories that a lot of my fellow players fall into. I’ll try to describe some of these “guys” for you.

“Get Out of Jail Free” guy- These are guys that play in order to get away from the wife and family for a couple of hours. You can spot him easily- he has a case of Certs in his car so that the “ball and chain” doesn’t smell beer on his breath when he gets home.

Dude, grow some hair on your ass. You’re embarrassing the entire male gender. If you can’t cut the umbilical cord for three hours a week without being afraid, then you need to go home, leave the car running in the garage, and then suck on that tailpipe until you feel the sweet, sweet release of death. Jesus H. Christ…

(Writer’s note: And just in case you were wondering- yes, I’ve been married more than once. Kiss my ass.)
“Young Punk-Ass” guy- These are kids that have just gotten done playing youth hockey, and aren’t good enough to advance any further. So now the only place they have to go is the adult leagues. They almost all have three things in common- us old guys can’t catch them, they have that scraggly “pube” beard, and they run their mouth the entire game.

I hear a lot of phrases like “You can’t stop me, old man”. I usually respond with something clever, like “You’re right- but at least I can grow hair on my face, you dick-smoker”. There is nothing more satisfying than beating a team of punks, or failing to do that, at least hacking the shit out of their ankles with my goal stick.

You see, I’m naïve enough to believe that adult hockey still should be a gentlemen’s game, and 90 percent of the time, it is. Probably because I’m an old fart, most of the young players I play against (that’s under 40, by the way) will tap me on the pads if I make a decent save, or offer a quick apology if they hit my glove late after I cover the puck. But there are those few that don’t respect the game or their opponents, so they get to taste the business end of my big wooden blade.

“I Played Juniors” guy- These are players, normally in their late thirties or early forties, that made it all the way to the high levels of junior hockey, which is right below professional, before they flamed out and got sent home.

Now it’s two decades later, and most of them are still pissed that they didn’t make it. They’re almost all very good players, but they have a chip on their shoulder and are unnecessarily intense. When you ask them to relax a bit, the first thing they say is, “This is how I play- I used to play juniors”.

I always say the same thing: “You know how you can tell this isn’t juniors anymore? Because you’re trying to score on a fat old man, that’s how. Now settle the fuck down, Gretzky”.

“Here For the Beer” guy- Usually in the lower level leagues, these guys are clearly there to hang out with the lads and drink beer in the parking lot. If they had a choice, they would just go ahead skip the hockey part and get right to the beer part. Nothing wrong with that at all- just don’t expect a big performance on the ice from these boys.

I sub a lot in leagues around town, mostly because they know they can get me normally on a moment’s notice. I’m a hockey whore- I just like to play. When I step into a strange locker room, I can spot the Here For the Beer guy a mile away. He’s the last one to get dressed, and he’s talking about everything but hockey.

At that point, I usually know two things. One, he plays defense. And two, there’s a better than average chance that I’m going to get my ass kicked when he’s on the ice.

“I Can’t Make It Tonight” guy- This is the guy that signs up for the team, pays the full amount, and then shows up for less than half of the games. Most of the time it’s because the games are too late, and he needs to get his sleep. I’ve never been able to understand this.

This dicklump knows at the start of the season that half of the games are after 10:00, but still signs up, takes a spot on the team that could go to someone that will show up every week, and then will only bring his ass to the early games. It’s even worse when this is a good player, and it makes a big difference when he’s there. Does he know or care that he ends up paying $50 a night to play, and he’s letting 14 other guys down?

Maybe it’s just me, but even at 53, I still get that little tingle in my stomach when I wake up in the morning, and I realize that I get to play hockey that night. I love playing that much, and losing sleep sure as shit isn’t going to keep me away. Like my dad always says, I’ll have time to sleep when I’m dead. I’ve never understood why everybody doesn’t feel the same way.

"Mount St. Helen's" guy- This is usually a good player that is really quiet or good natured on and off the ice; but do not piss him off. He's like a dormant volcano- every few years he's going to erupt. And when he does, you had better hang on to your ass.

It normally happens during a game, when some fartknocker from the other team will give him an unnecessary elbow, kick his skates out from underneath him or bang his teammate just to be an asshole. It typically has to happen more than once- he'll get the first cheap shot for free.

But when it happens the second time, and especially if the guy does it to someone else on his team, you'll hear that little rumble below the surface. Uh-oh, here comes the part where somebody gets an ass-kicking...

My favorite example of this came a few seasons ago, when our captain, who isn't a big guy, got cross-checked hard late in the game by some boner that didn't like losing very much. Our big defenseman, whom I like to call "Tito", slammed the guy to the ice and jumped on top of him before he could figure out what was happening.

The guy struggled for a second, but Tito said in a real calm voice, "If you move, I'm going to fucking kill you". So the guy just laid there like a pussy until the refs pulled Tito off the prick. It was brilliant.

The lesson: Don't make Tito angry. He'll seal your fate.

“Way, Way Too Serious” guy- You can tell right away who this is. If your team happens to lose a game, he’ll come into the locker room, dress real fast, and then silently storm out with his panties in a bunch, slamming doors behind him. Won’t even stay to drink the free beer in the parking lot.

The other players will sort of look at each other, smile and shake their heads. This isn’t the first, nor will it be the last time that Way Too Serious Guy makes an ass out of himself.

I’m ashamed to say that I was occasionally that guy, but not nearly as much since I’ve gotten old. And it’s always been for the same reason- I’ve been a complete sieve. I don’t really care if the rest of the team plays badly- that happens sometimes. I just hate it when I’m the reason we lose. It’s hard to look everyone in the eye after the game when I’ve spent an hour and a half being a big block of Swiss cheese.

“Ringer” guy- This is the guy that has “A league” ability, but chooses instead to dominate the “D league”. I hate this dickhead- he’s a coward and a queef. He should be playing with guys of his own ability, but opts to skate circles around old men and once-a-week warriors just to feed his massive goddamn ego.

The bad part is that he gets away with it most of the time. League directors are so afraid of having an entire team move and losing that revenue, that they’ll look the other way and let him stay put. I hack that prick every chance I get, even if it costs me a goal.

“Whole Team of Ringer” guys- Now this is even worse. You get an entire team that should be playing at least one level up, but they stay down and just lay waste to the rest of the league.

I think if players are paying a bunch of money to play hockey (except goalies of course-we usually play for free because, you know, we’re just that fuckin' special), then they should know at the start of the season that they at least have an outside chance to win the league. It’s really demoralizing to know that you’re playing for second, and you still have 20 weeks left in the season.

When I play against teams like that, I usually spend most of the time talking shit before faceoffs in our end. I’ll call out something like, “Hey fellas, I guess there wasn’t room in the wheelchair division, so you signed up for this league?” Or, “So does your wife beat the shit out of you at home, and this is the only way you can feel good about yourself?” Then usually I’ll fall back on guessing what they’re doing sexually to each other in the locker room after the game. I know that’s immature, but I’m good at it, so there.

It’s the only time I ever talk trash playing this game. I just hate that these gutless turds won’t play at their own level, and it takes the fun out of the game for the rest of us.

“Unsolicited Instruction” guy- This is usually an older player, and not the team captain. Before games and between periods, he’ll stand up and go over the game plan, and what the team has to do to be successful. Of course, nobody has asked for this.

There’s usually one tiny problem. He sucks ass, and makes more stupid mistakes out on the ice than everybody else. Then he’ll come right back to the bench and start talking strategy again. This makes it very hard for the rest of the team to take him seriously when he starts going all Scotty Bowman on us.

“Brand New Gear” guy- You see this again in a lot of the lower leagues, especially with the goalies. It’s normally some rich boy that can afford to get decked out in all the latest and greatest equipment. $800 skates, custom leg pads, custom painted helmet, etc. Head to toe, top of the line gear. By the time he’s done, he’s into it for about four grand.

Now here’s the funny part. All the money and sweet pads in the world won’t change the fact that he can’t stop a fucking beach ball. He sure looks good while he’s digging the puck out of the net, though.

But I’m probably just jealous because I have a running tab at Play It Again Sports. I buy Brand New Gear Guy’s shit when he gets frustrated, quits, and moves on to golf. Then I’ll buy his clubs when he sucks at that, too. I’m kind of like the buzzard of the sporting goods world. I’ll just circle above you until your ability is drained, and then swoop down and feed off your dead equipment.

Why? Because I have four kids, that’s why. They have this annoying, selfish habit of wanting to eat every day, and I'm told that you're supposed to put food on the table before you buy new hockey shit. Responsibility blows...

“Looking For a Fight” guy- You see this way too often. Most of the time these miserable cocksuckers aren't even there to play hockey. The only reason they come is so that they can get into some kind of scrap with the other team. I assume that their home life or their job sucks so badly that this is the only way they can cope.

You can tell right from his first shift, when he’ll take someone hard into the corner, and then give them the old “BMOC badass” stare all the way to the penalty box. There is going to be trouble, especially if someone on the other team, usually a kid, will take the bait.

Sometime in the third period, especially if his team is losing, he’ll cheap shot a guy from behind, and then drop his gloves like he‘s one of the Hanson brothers. Sometimes he even gets a sucker to drop his gloves too (again, usually a youngster). Then he’ll get escorted off the ice, still with that bad look on his face. You can set your watch by it.

God, I hate those fuckers.

Most leagues here in town have gotten it right by charging these blockheads a hundred bucks to get back into the league if they fight once, and then toss them out completely if they do it again. The league I play in has given a certain dick-brain numerous chances, and refuses to bounce his criminal ass out even though he’s been in at least a dozen incidents. Someday he’s going to really hurt somebody, and they’ll wonder why they have a gozillion dollar lawsuit on their hands.

These are the pieces of shit that ruin adult hockey for everyone, and they seriously need to fuck off.

Now you might be wondering which category I fall into. Well, your chubby pal has his own special little niche.

I’m “Bust Everybody’s Balls” guy. If you’re new to this site, just look at any game story about my Dawgs team, and you’ll see what I mean. I usually focus on everybody’s ability, appearance, and sexual preference. Pretty heavy on that last one, actually. And the more I like you, the harder I bust on you. I get that from my dad, but that’s a whole other article.

I get away with it for three reasons. First, I smack myself as hard as anyone. Second, I only crack on people that I know are good sports. And third, well, I’m an old man, and I’m all cute and cuddly and shit. Old guys get away with murder.

If the boys got mad at me, it'd be like punching their grandpa. Sure, it would feel great at first, but later, after their mom called and chewed their ass out, they'd feel bad.