OLD DAWGS WIN FIRST SDOHL CUP

Click to enlarge-but I wouldn't if I were you. Lots of fugly in this bunch.

Things were looking pretty grim in Dawg Nation this year. After six consecutive seasons of bringing home at least one championship from the four Dawgs teams in various leagues, the Nation was down to it's last chance. If there was going to be some hardware to display at the annual Dawgs party in June, it would have to be supplied by the old timers in the Over 4o league.

And after three nail-biting playoff wins, of which two went to overtime, the Dawgs completed a postseason sweep with a solid 4-1 win over a very good Touchstone Imaging squad. The boys were then awarded the inaugural SDOHL Cup, which goes to the league champions.

French-Canadian import Bern Levesque, who illegally entered the U.S. by crossing the St. Lawrence River in a hollowed out baguette, came through huge for his team with a three goal hat trick. Levesque's brother-in-law and fellow stinky French guy Chris Courtiol assisted on all four Dawgs goals, and Eric Wilks contributed with his second marker of the playoffs, which proved to be the eventual game winner.

After letting in an early goal that could be generously described as a steaming piece of shit, Dawgs netminder Al Sterner, aided immensely by a giant effort from his defense, removed his head from his rectum just long enough to make 23 saves. The backchecking effort was terrific from the Dawgs forwards, especially Levesque and Dave Chamberlin, who spent much of the third period patrolling the defensive zone.

Because they finished first during the regular season with a less than overwhelming record of 12-8, and won their first three playoff games, the Old Dawgs had to wait a week to see who their opponents would be in the finals. It turned out to be Touchstone, a team they defeated 5-4 in an exciting shootout in the semifinals.

Touchstone made their way to the championship contest with a 5-3 win against the Llamas, despite being outshot 26-9. They rode on the back of the best goalkeeper in the league, Tim Kmetz, who led the SDOHL in goals against average during the regular season. Kmetz achievement was despite the fact that he comes from Minnesota, sports a beard that looks like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, and needs to buy a vowel for his last name.


Welcome to Dawg Nation, Timmy

The final game was less than a minute old when Touchstone's Chris Romine centered a pass from the corner to the top of the crease in the Dawgs' zone. "Goaltender extraordinaire" Sterner tried to deflect the pass away and out of danger, but instead the puck hit the heel of his stick and caromed into his own net.

Just a bitchin' play, Al. 1-0, Touchstone.


Sterner

But Levesque would erase the deficit in the 11th minute of the first when he received a nice outlet pass from the Dawgs bi-curious captain Marty Richardson, skated in alone on Kmetz, crossed in front of the net, and fired high to the stick side. Kmetz got a huge piece of the puck, but it still managed to trickle in to level the contest at one.

The Old Dawgs got a huge boost just fifteen seconds before the end of the first, when proud sexual deviant Eric "The Hungarian Jackhammer" Wilks banged in a rebound to put his team on top. For the second time in the period, Kmetz partially stopped the puck, but it still managed to sneak over the goal line. It was the Wilks' second goal of the playoffs, and came with assists from Courtiol and defenseman Eddie Cribbs.

Touchstone came out hard in the second period, and dominated play for much of the frame, outshooting the Dawgs by a 12-5 margin. But despite several stretches where the puck stayed in the Dawgs zone for an extended time, the good guys were able to weather the storm. And against the run of play, they actually got the only goal of the middle session, when Levesque put in his second goal of the game, off of another nice assist from Courtiol.



Kmetz again almost kept the puck out of his cage, but for the third time, it just barely crawled in. Two of the three goals never even made it to the back of the net, but they were still as good as gold, and the Old Dawgs held a precarious 3-1 advantage heading to the final stanza.

During the regular season, the Old Dawgs had lost several two goal leads in the third period, and usually for two reasons. First, instead of concentrating on defense and protecting the lead, they would continue to pinch in the offensive zone, resulting in being outnumbered in their own end. It wouldn't be fair to mention who did that most of the time.

But his initials are: Tito Pijanowski


"Holy shit...I play defense?"

And second, there was this guy:


Sterner, doing what he does best: looking behind him

But when it came to the final game, and having a chance to win a championship, the boys played good, solid hockey. Again, Touchstone had several periods where they controlled play in the Dawgs' zone, but the puck stayed to the outside most of the time, and Sterner only had to deal with five shots. Again, forwards Levesque and Chamberlin were terrific, both ignoring offense most of the time in order to have another defensive player available in the back.

And when Touchstone pulled Kmetz in favor of an extra attacker with a minute remaining, Levesque completed his hat trick, nudging the puck over the line from a bad angle with four ticks left on the clock. It was Levesque's seventh goal of the playoffs, and even more impressive considering he is, you know, French.

So the Old Dawgs bring a trophy home to The Nation, keeping the title streak alive. The SDOHL will have a little different format this summer, with all players entering a draft, so the Dawgs might be broken up a bit. But next fall, the "sporty and mostly shorty over-40" will reunite to defend their championship, and try their best not to break a hip in the process.

In other Old Dawgs news:

Old Dawgs teammates and brothers-in-law Bern Levesque and Chris Courtiol celebrate after the big game with a very awkward man-hug. They are both exceptionally happy because it's the first time The French have ever won anything.


Yikes...

It took some effort, but Tito Pijanowski found a way to make himself look even less intelligent than usual.


Polacks: They're fun to watch

Dawgs captain Marty Richardson prepares to celebrate the Old Dawgs' victory in his own very special way:


Guys-who wants to check Cappy's oil? Guys?

Six Dawgs Take the Tattoo Plunge

After looking at this photo, you may be asking yourself, "Holy shit, are they bringing back the Village People?", or "Do they not have the sun where these guys are from? Or maybe "Why is that kid on the left taking a piss in the corner?"

All are good and legitimate questions. But no, there are no plans for the new Village People (if only it were true). These six, pasty white doughy fellows decided to be the first members of Dawg Nation to make it official with a team logo tattoo.

Last Saturday night, they all gathered in the tattoo capitol of Northern Colorado, Longmont, and journeyed together to a parlor that has undergone several name changes. First, it was "Tat's Incredible!", but later switched to "Tats and Ass!".

Recently, though, they reopened under new management, and it is now called, "I Thought I Saw a Pussy Tat!"

So these six brave soldiers, sporting a combined IQ of around 135, took the needle and thus took Dawg Nation to an entirely new level.

Let's just introduce they cast, shall we? First, it's the team of Danny Packard and his dad, "Superfan" Rob Packard.



Rob is a Dawg Nation Hockey Foundation board member, and the guy most often in the stands watching Dawgs games. He received the first tattoo of his life, after getting a reluctant okay from his beautiful wife Kelli. Kelli reasoned that it would make things easier when she and Rob play "The Hell's Angel and the naughty biker chick" on Saturday nights. In case you were wondering, Rob plays the role of the biker chick.

Danny is one of the inspirations for our charitable foundation, kicking the ass of thyroid cancer in the past year. He decided to get his Dawgs logo on his ribs, reasoning that he's been married since last August, and nothing could possibly be more painful than that. From all reports, it was close.

Tito Pijanowski is another Dawgs board member, and has recently taken to trimming his hair and mustache to look like Freddie Mercury from Queen. He also plays defense like, well, Freddie Mercury from Queen. He's hoping not to die the same way Freddie did, but at this point, it's not completely out of the question.


Fun fact: Tito thinks "Dawg" is spelled correctly

Nathaniel Akell is one of the younger members of Dawg Nation, and is the second funniest. This good natured hemp aficianado received his tattoo below his bicep, which he proudly shows off in this picture.



What Akell didn't take into account, is that in twenty years gravity and age will kick in. Then, because of the sag factor, it will appear that the Dawg is constantly going for a walk. Best of luck with that, Nate.

Akell was also the only Dawg in the group with previous tattoo experience, receiving one a few years ago that is both stylish and informative.



Josh Adams was the youngest Dawg to receive a tattoo, and failed to inform his parents that he would be changing his body forever. He will now be grounded for one month, and will not be able to play Call of Duty: Don't Ask/Don't Tell with his friends.

Josh received his Dawg logo on his shoulder blade, as shown here:



But it was later discovered that the real reason for the location was to give this guy something to look at during "boom boom time".


The poor kid will never be able to fart again...

And finally, Dawg Nation founder, president, and former pogo pumper Marty Richardson made good on his promise from two years ago, when Dawgs I won their first championship. The delay was that he was actually considering several other designs to be his first tattoo:







But once he finally settled on the standard, terrific Dawgs logo, there was only one other question. Could he find at least five other people stupid enough to join him? As was shown in the hugely successful Dawg Bowl I tournament, his powers of persuasion are like no other. The guy could sell beach houses in Japan.


Too soon? Nah...

He also brought his wife Cindy and two of his lovely daughters for moral support. But they spent most of the evening lamenting at how difficult it is to live under the same roof with such a complete tool.


"No, kids, Dad wasn't always a douche. Just for the past fifteen years or so..."

So the moment came. Marty peeled off the flannel shirt he was wearing from the Ellen DeGeneres collection, and revealed a muscle shirt that he must have borrowed from Mickey Rourke for the weekend. Then, after roughly a half hour of sobbing, and pleading for tattoo artist Dean Paget to "make the ouchie stop", Marty displayed his ink.


You just can't help but be intimidated by that sight

So here again are the first six to make the lifetime commitment to Dawg Nation, along with their artist:


Jesus H. tap dancin' Christ...

They are a very diverse group. Some are young, and some are old. Some are gay, and some could go either way. Some are white, and some are really white. At least one is a big old Polack. Some should never be seen without a shirt, and...no, they all should never be seen without a shirt.

But if they weren't before, they will now always be a band of brothers. They now have a permanent momento of the growing entity that is Dawg Nation.

Players My Age Can Be Dickheads? Who Knew?

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Why Hockey Is Great, and Basketball Sucks

I live in the Denver area, so for the past six months, I've had to endure the saga of Carmelo Anthony almost every day. And it's been especially bad lately, dominating our sports pages before mercifully he finally got traded to the New York Knicks.

If there's a basketball God, Melo won't win a championship in New York. He doesn't deserve one, because he doesn't concern himself with defense, and he's not a team player. I hope it all goes to hell in a handbasket-I don't have time for gifted players with no character. I'm just glad it's over, and I don't have to hear about it any more.

To be honest though, even if he would have done us a big old favor by staying and reluctantly signing that 65 million dollar contract, I still wouldn't have given three shits. Why? Well, mainly because I think he's an arrogant fuckhead, and I wouldn't piss down his throat if his heart was on fire. But also because basketball is a bad game, especially in the NBA, and goes against everything that is great about sports. I watch basketball once a year, and that's only when the college tournament starts, and I waste $10 filling out a bracket. Because I have what's called a "Gamblin' Jones".

Kids, I submit that hockey is a lot better game than basketball. And I know what you're going to say. "But SFG, basketball is much more popular. Hell, more people watch poker than hockey. You're obviously a dipshit". Fair enough, but in the future, please try not to confuse me with logic. And I'm not a dipshit.

If you'll allow, I'd like to make a case why hockey is better. After you read this, please feel free to throw in a comment at the end, either telling me I'm right, or I'm full of crap.

1. Speed- Hockey is absolutely the fastest of all the major sports (and please don't tell me NASCAR is a major sport there, Zeke, or Dale, or Ricky, or whatever the fuck your name is). Players reach speeds of 20-25 miles per hour, which is right up there with how fast Usain Bolt ever ran the 100 meters. They can shoot pucks at over 100 MPH, which makes it kind of fascinating why assholes like me would ever stand in front of that on purpose. But that's a whole other article.

Now, combine that skating speed with: a) the fact that they're in a pretty enclosed area, and b) there are boys going approximately the same speed trying to knock their fucking head off their shoulders, and you have the potential for some pretty good wrecks. And wrecks are a good thing, right Zeke?

Unfortunately. that very thing that makes it better actually hurts the popularity of the sport. Because the puck moves so fast, they haven't found a way to follow it yet on television, even with HD. I think that's the most common objection I've heard, and it's a fair point. If technology ever catches up, I think the game will grow by leaps and bounds.

(Writer's note- Remember when Fox tried the "glow puck" back in the nineties, and it would have that red flame coming off of it after a slap shot? Goddamn, that was a bad idea. Right up there with Teen Mom and ever allowing Dane Cook to tell a joke. What a queef that guy is.)

2. Watching the game live- Boys and girls, it isn't even close. At a basketball game, things don't get exciting until there are about two minutes left. Until then, you can go get a beer, grab a bite to eat, or go read the paper while taking a life changing, half hour crap. You aren't going to miss anything except the twentieth monster dunk of the night, because those jagoffs don't play any defense.

At a hockey game, you don't dare leave your seat until the end of the period. If you do, you could miss a goal, which is an event compared to basketball. There are around a hundred baskets made every night in the NBA, but maybe four or five goals in the NHL. Scoring goals is very difficult, so you really need to stay and watch so you don't miss anything. Not to mention all the other things hockey has, like great passing, acrobatic saves, huge hits, and of course, fighting.

Speaking of which...

3. The fights- Come on, don't act all indignant and shit, you know you fuckin' love the fights. What other team sport in the world lets two guys hook like a sonofabitch for 30 seconds or a minute, and then five minutes later, they're back playing like nothing ever happened?

People are always screaming about how fighting should be banned from hockey. I say bullshit. Fighting is a necessary way for players to police themselves, and keeps them from retaliating more with their sticks. That's when you can really hurt a guy.

And here are the cool parts about it. First, they never let a fight happen if there is too much of a size difference between the players. If a big guy is matched up with a little guy, the refs either break it up straightaway, or the big boy just skates away and waits for someone his own size to fight.

Second, when a player starts to gain an advantage, and he has the other guy either at his mercy or down on the ice, he'll just stop fighting and skate to the penalty box. There is absolutely a code to fighting in hockey- they all know that sometimes it's their job, but when they win the fight, they don't pummel the loser, they just let him go and skate away. Normal people might think the players are a bunch of thugs, but there is real honor in that.

And every once in a blue moon, a couple of goalies will square off, and that always makes for some real fun. Unless you're Timmy Thomas (see the clip below this article).

On the other hand, have you ever seen a basketball fight? I think it's because the players are so tall and their arms are so long, but it always turns into an open handed, bitch-slap fest, with guys swinging wildly like a whirling dervish. Or they'll sucker punch a guy, and then run away like a pussy, like my pal Carmelo did in New York a couple of years ago.

Hockey players never do that. When they throw a punch, they stick around and own it.

4. Trash talk and taunting- Basketball players are good at talkin' shit- no doubt about it. It's just part of the game's culture. But you know what? It gets old after a while. How often are you watching Sportscenter, and see a player dunk over his opponent, and then just glare at him, or yell something like, "What's my name, bitch!"

They do this because they know that clip will get them on Sportscenter. That program is maybe the best and worst thing that has ever happened in our sports culture. It's terrific being able to get sports news 24 hours a day, but it's also been a Pandora's Box for bad behavior.

I'll tell you what- if a hockey player ever scored, and then went back to the goalie and said something like that, I guarantee you that he'd be playing the rest of the game with at least three sticks stuffed up his ass. Like I said, they police themselves, and the game is better off for it.

5. Teamwork- Hockey, in my opinion, is the ultimate team game. A group of five guys busting their ass and working together on the ice can a lot of times outperform a team of higher caliber players (see:1980 Winter Olympics). One hockey player cannot carry an entire team by himself because a) nobody has been able to skate through all five guy since Bobby Orr in the 60's, and b)even the best players are only on the ice for about a third of the game.

You may ask, "What about Wayne Gretzky?". As great as Gretzky was, and for all the goals he scored, he never would have won one Stanley Cup, much less four, without the likes of Mark Messier, Jari Curry and the goaltending of Grant Fuhr. Edmonton won a cup after Gretzky moved to Los Angeles, because they still had most of their group together, and they were one hell of a team.

By contrast, look at what's happened to the Cleveland Cavaliers this season because LeBron made his "decision" to "take his talents to South Beach" (maybe the biggest cocksucker move ever). They set a team sports record for consecutive losses, and are currently the worst team in the league. This is one year after they had the best record in the league. That would never, ever happen in hockey.

Basketball, especially now in the NBA, has become a game of isolation. The scorer gets the ball, his four teammates take their defenders off to the side, and they play one on one. Passing has become almost a thing of the past. There is only one team that plays unselfish, team ball, and that is the San Antonio Spurs. Oh, they have the best record in the league, in case you were wondering. Can you name two players on that team? Didn't think so. Team play isn't very sexy.

That's what the NBA has become.

6. Character- Okay, here's the biggest thing for me. The main reason I can't stand to watch the NBA anymore is because how the players conduct themselves on the court. Too many act like a bunch of punks, and are just horrible role models for kids. Ron Artest wades into the crowd in Detroit and attacks a fan who threw ice at him (he got the wrong fan, by the way). Gilbert Arenas pulls a loaded gun on a teammate in the locker room over a gambling debt. The list goes on and on.

And the selfishness in basketball is overwhelming. Here's a good example- I hate to pick on my man Carmelo again (well, no I don't), but the other night in his Knick debut, he scored 27 points. Great night, right? He got those points by going 10 of 25 from the field. With one lousy assist. The rest of the entire team took 55 shots. That was a regular thing while he was here in Denver. It's like that all over the league. The good players are going to take most of the shots, and it doesn't really matter whether they're having a bad night or not.

Hockey is an entirely different story. You hear all the time from journalists how hockey players are the nicest, most accommodating guys in sports. I think it's partly because so many of these boys come from small towns, and partly because so many are raised in good, solid family units.

Last season, I got to coach on my kid's team, and we played against Joe Sakic's kid in the playoffs. He was an assistant coach as well. We scored with less than a second left in double overtime, and knocked his team out of the playoffs. In the handshake line after the game, he could not have been nicer to our kids, and all of our coaches. All class- I'll never forget that.

But the biggest thing is the culture of the game itself. One player cannot do it all by himself, while the others stand on the side and watch. Every phase of the game has to be good for a team to be successful. A decent example is Roberto Luongo, who might be the best goalie in the world right now. He's easily in the top three. A few years ago, he played for the Florida Panthers, and they lost a lot more than they won. Now he plays for Vancouver, and they have one of the best records in the league. Is Luongo better now than he was then? Nope. He's just surrounded by a better team.

Next time you watch an NBA game, look what happens when a player makes a big shot. More often than not, you'll see them beating on their chest, mugging for a camera, or doing that bullshit thing where they pop their jersey. When a hockey player scores a goal, the first thing he almost always does is point at the guy who passed him the puck. Maybe it's just me, but I find that a lot more appealing to watch.

And I swear to God this isn't a white/black thing. There are some good guys in the NBA, like Chauncey Billups and Tim Duncan, and there are some assholes in the NHL, like Sean Avery and Todd Bertuzzi. Avery is a complete waste of flesh, and Bertuzzi should still be in the slammer for almost killing Steve Moore and ending his career. Race has absolutely nothing to do with it. You're either a dick or you're not.

So anyway, that's my case. Like I said earlier, I'm apparently in the minority, because lots more people watch basketball than hockey. Ratings are up, and highlights dominate ESPN every night.

But you know what? I don't think I'm wrong.

My Man Tim Thomas Sort Of Fights Carey Price

I love Tim Thomas- he's the NHL version of me- old, short, and chubby. Except he has, you know, ability, and I flop around like a drunk walrus. But other than the ability thing, we're kindred spirits.

I've never had a fight as a goalie (way too old now-I'd break a hip). But if I did, I would imagine that it would go something like this. Looks like Timmy went to the Don Zimmer School of Fighting. I have to believe it was at around the 20 second mark of this clip that Thomas realized that this was a very bad idea.

Price was actually pretty cool for not hammering Timmy when he had the chance. I guess it would feel like beating up your dad. Sure, it would feel great at the time, but it would always be awkward at Thanksgiving.

The Seven Stages of an Ass Kicking

(I wrote this a couple of years ago after a particularly bad game, and I just came back upon it while I was going through some archives. If you new readers hadn't seen this before, especially my fellow goalies, you might get a yuck or two out of it.)

I understand that when people have a terminal illness, they go through seven stages before they finally get the big game misconduct from God, and head up to the penalty box in the sky. I never really understood that concept until my hockey game Thursday night.

You see, your little pal likes to think that he can still play goalie at a decent level, even at the advanced age of 49. One of the leagues I play in is the “B” league in Lafayette, featuring several players that competed in college. Good, fast skate.

Last season, I was lucky enough to lead that league with a 2.7 goals against average, of course with the help of a very good defense. In the NHL, the goalie leader wins a trophy called the Vezina, named after former player Georges Vezina. In Lafayette, the players jokingly say the top goalie should win the Vagina award, because we're all a bunch of pussies.

I think they're joking.

Call the sumbitch whatever you want. I won it in a good league where the other goalies were much, much younger, and I'm proud of that. I can only imagine what the Vagina Trophy looks like. Probably somebody that's French. Goddamn, I hate the French.

Anyway, when we started a new season last Thursday, I had no reason to believe things would be that much different. We lost a few key players from last season, but our team has been together for awhile, so we could certainly overcome that, right?

We played a team called Damaged Goods, whom we pretty much owned last go-around. But before the start of the game, I looked over at the other side of the ice, and noticed that most of that team had changed, and had gotten much younger.

No worries- we’d use our experience and cunning to give these kids a hockey lesson.

Well, it turns out that some of these new boys also play on the club team at the University of Colorado, and were looking for a place to get some extra ice time. I knew after approximately two minutes that this was going to be a long night.

Would you consider losing 11-1 a long night? Yeah, me too. I actually heard my goals against average explode in the middle of the second period. During that agonizing hour and a half, I believe I experienced those seven stages that everyone talks about. I’ll try to describe them, in order, without getting tears all over my keyboard:

Stage one: Shock

From the opening drop of the puck, those boys were all over us like a second date. We had several players missing for the game, and were down to 10 skaters, versus the usual 13. Not good.

I looked at their three starting forwards, and I’m sure that if you combined their ages, they were still younger than me. Once again, not good.

I pulled a save out my ass early to keep them off the board, but it was clear that it wasn’t a matter of if they were going to score, but when, and how many. About five minutes in, a shot bounced off our player and right onto one of their sticks, and he put it in. Two minutes later, they shot one right between my defenseman’s leg that I never saw, and it was 2-0. I played fairly well the rest of the period, but they still got two more, and it was 4-0 after one.

The shock part was that I hadn’t given up four goals in an entire game in this league since last October. Welcome to the new season, son.

Stage two- Denial

At the end of the period, I actually said, “They’re not that good, boys. Let’s stop chasing them around, and play a little smarter, and we can get right back in this thing”. We’re talkin’ about denial here, kids. I couldn't even keep a straight face when I said it.

It took them five minutes of the second period to build the lead up to 6-0. It was at this point that we came to our next stage, which is…

Stage three- Bargaining

For the first time in forever, I was looking at giving up double figures in goals. As a goalie, you’ll do almost anything so that second digit doesn’t go up on the board.

I really started encouraging the rest of my team, because I could see them losing interest quickly. Have you ever heard that when a dog is humping your leg, you should just let him finish, and he’ll leave you alone? You haven’t? Anyway, that’s where we were. Just like me, they wanted to get it over with, wipe the spooge off their leg, and get to the part with the beer in the locker room.

But I still had three goals to play with to stay below 10, so I was doing everything I could to get them to buy into trying hard for me.

Stage four- Guilt

I was trying my best, but the goals kept coming, climaxing with the ultimate sucker punch, their eighth with four seconds left in the second period. I went to the bench, and tried to appeal to the pride of my mates; the guys I’ve been playing with for seven years.

“Boys, you know how much crap we’re going to take if they score 10 goals on us? Let’s try to save some respect here, fellas”.

One of the guys said, “Al, they’ll be laughing at you. I can live with that”.

At that point I realized that I play with a bunch of dickheads. Seems like I would have noticed that by now.

So much for stage four. The lesson here- you can’t make a hockey player feel guilty. Let’s just move on…

Stage five- Anger

I got through the first eight minutes of the third with no goals, and was starting to think that I was going to make it. Then I looked up when the puck was in the other end for a change and noticed that one their kids was “cherry picking”.

For those of you that don’t know, cherry picking is when a player will completely disregard playing defense, and move way forward, hoping to get a long pass out of the zone, resulting in a breakaway. It’s a bullshit way to play hockey, and really bullshit when your team has an eight goal lead. It’s the same thing as stealing bases with a big lead in baseball. You just don’t do it- it shows no class.

I had a brief word with him when he came to my side of the ice.

Me- “Are you really cherry picking with an eight goal lead?”

Punk Ass- “I’m trying to get my hat trick. No offense, dude.”

Me- “None taken, dude. Oh, just one more thing, sonny. If you do it again, I’m not even going to try and stop the shot. I’m going to skate out and tomahawk your motherfucking knees with my stick. Thought you might want to know that.”

I lifted my helmet so that he could see my eyes when I told him. He knew I meant it, and he didn’t do it again.

Like I always say to my wife- kick my ass, but don’t embarrass me.

Stage six- Depression

The ninth goal came with ten minutes left, and then two minutes later, a guy took a shot from a bad angle that squeezed in between my skate and the near post. Goal number 10 just had to be completely my fault, didn’t it? It wouldn’t have been a perfect night otherwise.

And there it was. Ten goals. All of a sudden, I felt like I couldn’t hang with the kids anymore, even though I was playing in the league championship game and winning the Vagina less than a month ago. Now, I felt like I was…almost 50.

I haven’t really thought about how much time I have left playing hockey. I’ve always said that I want to play until I’m 50, and we’ll see where we are at that point. Both knees are shot to hell, and I have a torn rotator cuff. I keep a barrel full of Advil in the trunk of my car. But I still have one good shoulder, and these wits. So I have that going for me, which is nice.

I always promised myself that if I suck, I’m hanging ‘em up. I’m way too competitive to keep playing if I can’t cut the mustard. No old-man leagues for me, either. I like playing with and against the kids, you know, like 35.

(Writer's note: It's three years later, and I'm playing in an old man league. Way to stick by your convictions, Al.)

Plus, because I waited until I was old to start having children, I have to somehow stay active so that they don’t have to wheel me in to their high school graduation ceremony. Haven't been mistaken for my kids' grandpa yet- don't want that to happen if I can avoid it.

Stage seven- Acceptance and Hope

After goal 11, I actually played pretty tough the rest of the way, and when the final buzzer sounded, the kids finally stopped humping my leg. The referee, who’s a friend of mine, skated up to me and said, “Why didn’t you play this well earlier? You might have held them to eight.” Some friend, eh? What an asshole...

I checked with the scorekeeper after the game, and it turns out we were outshot 49-20. I guess that would partially explain the carnage, and why my heart was beating like a rabbit until three in the morning.

The next day, I got back on the horse and played my usual Friday lunchtime pickup game. After enduring no end of shit from the lads in the locker room for my performance the night before, I went out and played fairly well.

It gave me hope.

I hope I can make it across the border.

I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand.

I hope the Pacific Ocean is as blue as it has been in my dreams.

Wait…that’s Shawshank Redemption. Here’s what I really hope (still try to imagine Morgan Freeman’s voice for this- it’s pretty cool):

I hope that it was just a bad night, and I haven’t turned into a giant block of Swiss cheese. (Because Swiss cheese has a bunch of holes in it. Old goalie joke. Try to keep up.)

I hope that I have a little more time left playing the game, because I love playing it so much.

I hope I never have to look up at the scoreboard and see the number 11 ever again.

I hope…

COME PLAY IN DAWG BOWL I

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I know there are a bunch of men's league hockey players that read this crap, because I get emails from all over the country. I design a lot of my articles for the beer league in general, and my Dawgs teams in particular. It's amazing how many of you guys out there relate to the stories, especially the goalies. I've discovered that I'm not the only broken down old fart trying to hang onto his youth, and honestly, it's nice to know I have company.

Well, if you play here in the Denver area, and I guess even if you don't, we'd like to invite you all to our first ever adult men's tournament, being held the weekend of April 1-4 at the Edge Ice Arena in Littleton, Colorado.

We're calling it Dawg Bowl I, and we'll be hosting 24 teams in four different divisions. The fees are going to be better than any adult tournament in Colorado, and all proceeds will go to a special charity that we've just recently set up. I'll tell you all about that in a minute.

If you sign up before the end of February, the cost of the event will only be $800 ($850 after that). Compare that to other tourneys, which normally run over $1000 for the same amount of games. Hell, those of you that have ever played in Las Vegas know that you can pay up to $1800, so this is a rockin' deal.

Now, if you will just give me a minute, I'll tell you why you should enter:

1) There will be a division you can play in. We're going to have four different brackets- Novice (E level/beginning teams), Bronze (Lower C/D level), Silver (high C/lower B), and Gold (A and high B levels).

We're setting that Gold bracket up for a very hot skate, so make sure you know we're talking about former junior league players and that type of level. The reason we included "High B" is that in some areas like Superior and The Edge arenas here in town, the B is the best skate, and they can certainly hang in that division.

2) Three game guarantee. Each division will have three games of pool play, and the top two teams will face off Sunday for all the marbles and a very cool trophy that we've designed.

3) Silent auction- The Colorado Avalanche and others have come on board with us, and we already have some items that we're planning to silently auction off during the weekend. They include everything from a laptop computer, a signed Adam Foote Canadian Olympic jersey, a stick signed by the entire 2010 Avalanche team, and even a helmet signed by one of the best players on Earth, none other than "The Great 8"- Alex Ovechkin.

4) Food and Drink- The Breckenridge Brewery here in town has graciously supplied beer for us, and we will be selling it for charitable contributions during the entire weekend. Also, we will be grilling up hamburgers, hot dogs, and brats, along with other food items, so you can stop by before or after your games for some terrific and inexpensive food. One thing for sure about us old farts- we know how to barbeque.

5) The Edge Ice Arena- The Edge is one of the nicest places to play in the Denver area- two sheets of ice, big locker rooms, lots of seating for all your fans, plenty of parking, and a beautiful view of the mountains.

6) Our charity- Pay attention now-here's the best part. Every dime of the proceeds from the entry fees, auctions, beverages and food goes to the new charity set up by Dawg Nation. We've recently come across some guys that play adult hockey that have either hurt themselves badly in games, or have gotten seriously ill and need help with their medical bills. Our foundation was set up to give a hand to our hockey playing brothers and sisters, hopefully lightening their load a bit as they recover.

A good example of one of the guys we're going to help is a player named Dennis, who shattered his ankle going into the boards in an Over 40 game. He had surgery to put everything back together, but caught an infection during the surgery. He's had to have several other operations, but the effects of the infection have remained. Bottom line is that he has to have one more surgery, but it's a coin flip right now as to whether he gets to keep the leg or not. He's a good guy- just the kind of person we want to help with our foundation.

Kids, there is not another adult tournament I know that is set up so that 100% of the net goes to charity. So many tournaments say "a portion" of the proceeds go to a cause, but it ends up being like 5%. Not one of our board members or volunteers is taking a cent for the hundreds of hours an event like this requires.

So not only do you get to play great hockey at a good price, but you'll be doing a nice thing for your fellow player. I can't sell it any better than that.

Like I said earlier, I have a bunch of readers from outside Denver, and if your team would like to make a road trip, we'd love to have you here in town. There are several hotels close to the arena, and there is absolutely nothing like Denver in the spring. In fact, the Colorado Rockies team will be opening their season here the same weekend, so you could make it one hell of a hockey/baseball trip.

Dawg Nation now has their own website, and here is the link to where you can sign up for the tournament.

https://sites.google.com/site/dawgnationhockey/hockey-tournament

Oh, and if you're not a hockey player but would still like to contribute auction items or a couple of bucks, we will absolutely take it. Our biggest expenses will be ice time and referees, so anything that would put a dent in that and push more money to the bottom line would be greatly appreciated.

If you have any questions at all, please shoot me an email at sfg35@comcast.net. We only have room for 24 teams, and we're already getting a huge response, so please sign up quickly in order to assure your spot. We're going to work hard to guarantee that you have a great experience, and also to make sure you come back next year for Dawg Bowl II.

Thanks from the entire Dawg Nation family, and we'll see you in April!