In honor of my birthday, I took yesterday and today off as a little mini vacation treat to myself. As a result, I agreed to attend Adam's hockey game last night. He joined a men's league in November and all his games are at 10PM at the earliest on weeknights in towns that are at least 40 minutes away. And I usually try not to go out that late on weeknights unless there is dinner and/or drinks involved. Or at the very least the precense of some kind of heat.
But no, this time i was only me, about 40 men, a twenty degree non-heated ice rink, and a flask of jameson and ginger ale.
The things I do for that boy, I tell you.
We arrived at the rink about 40 minutes early so I settled myself in the small lobby (the only somewhat warm place in the joint) and started sipping my cockatil and texting Danielle and Andy. Things like "can you believe I am at a GD hockey game?" and whatnot.
Soon, to my surprise, three ladies walked in and I knew immediately they were Hockey Wives. They greeted all the players who entered by first name, they immediately began chatting about what has gone on in their lives since the game last week, they had on LONG UNDERWEAR amd HATS and MITTENS and brought BLANKETS (onlike newbie old me who donned only a scarf and jacket and jeans who was about to leave the house in lizared heels when Adam basically begged me to at least put my wellies on). Anyway, they settled on the bench next to me and continued to catch up on hockey-chat while I continued my text conversations, not completely able or willing to participate in a conversation about the logisitics of "off sides" (whatever that is).
Presently, a long-haired, scowling young man entered the lobby and basically stomped into the locker room. All three Hockey Wives stopped, stared for a second, and then began a flurry of furious whispering. I caught snatches of "oh my god..." and "did you know he....". And I tell you my ears perked up like my parent's dog's ears do when he hears the crinkle of cold-cut wrappers.
These girls were finally speaking my language.
The international language of all women.
Gossip.
So I shimmied down the bench and asked them "Wait, who was that?", not even introducing myself but they were so into talking about this young man that it didn't matter. I was told that he was known as "The Slasher" because he playes dirty and slashes at players with his stick on the ice and since this is a No Fighting league, no one can do anything about it. And I guess last week one of the players on Adam's team had thrown his stick on the ice and told him that he was not worth the $1000 fine of punching him, but if they wanted to continue this later then he would meet him in the parking lot after the game.
Drama!!!
So we girls settled in on our warm bench and introduced ourselves and then told me all the ins and outs of who is who on the team, who is good, who on the other team is awful, who they hate, who they love, etc. And then when the game started we sat on the frigid bench and I passed around my gingerale whiskey cocktail and they shared their blankets with me and we gossiped about the ref who was showing off with his twirley whirl skating, and the captain of the other team who was SO unsportsmanlike, and why the one girl who was on the team doesn't show up anymore.
All in all, a very entertaining night.
And did you know they make special snow pants for referees that are slim cut and black and have pockets like jeanes? So Euro. So cute.
So all in all, I believe myself to be a hockey fan now. Especially when watching the hockey game is less about calling "offsides" and "icing" and more about trying to see if the Ref has a wedding ring on as he skates by or who the hottest boy on the team is.
But no, this time i was only me, about 40 men, a twenty degree non-heated ice rink, and a flask of jameson and ginger ale.
The things I do for that boy, I tell you.
We arrived at the rink about 40 minutes early so I settled myself in the small lobby (the only somewhat warm place in the joint) and started sipping my cockatil and texting Danielle and Andy. Things like "can you believe I am at a GD hockey game?" and whatnot.
Soon, to my surprise, three ladies walked in and I knew immediately they were Hockey Wives. They greeted all the players who entered by first name, they immediately began chatting about what has gone on in their lives since the game last week, they had on LONG UNDERWEAR amd HATS and MITTENS and brought BLANKETS (onlike newbie old me who donned only a scarf and jacket and jeans who was about to leave the house in lizared heels when Adam basically begged me to at least put my wellies on). Anyway, they settled on the bench next to me and continued to catch up on hockey-chat while I continued my text conversations, not completely able or willing to participate in a conversation about the logisitics of "off sides" (whatever that is).
Presently, a long-haired, scowling young man entered the lobby and basically stomped into the locker room. All three Hockey Wives stopped, stared for a second, and then began a flurry of furious whispering. I caught snatches of "oh my god..." and "did you know he....". And I tell you my ears perked up like my parent's dog's ears do when he hears the crinkle of cold-cut wrappers.
These girls were finally speaking my language.
The international language of all women.
Gossip.
So I shimmied down the bench and asked them "Wait, who was that?", not even introducing myself but they were so into talking about this young man that it didn't matter. I was told that he was known as "The Slasher" because he playes dirty and slashes at players with his stick on the ice and since this is a No Fighting league, no one can do anything about it. And I guess last week one of the players on Adam's team had thrown his stick on the ice and told him that he was not worth the $1000 fine of punching him, but if they wanted to continue this later then he would meet him in the parking lot after the game.
Drama!!!
So we girls settled in on our warm bench and introduced ourselves and then told me all the ins and outs of who is who on the team, who is good, who on the other team is awful, who they hate, who they love, etc. And then when the game started we sat on the frigid bench and I passed around my gingerale whiskey cocktail and they shared their blankets with me and we gossiped about the ref who was showing off with his twirley whirl skating, and the captain of the other team who was SO unsportsmanlike, and why the one girl who was on the team doesn't show up anymore.
All in all, a very entertaining night.
And did you know they make special snow pants for referees that are slim cut and black and have pockets like jeanes? So Euro. So cute.
So all in all, I believe myself to be a hockey fan now. Especially when watching the hockey game is less about calling "offsides" and "icing" and more about trying to see if the Ref has a wedding ring on as he skates by or who the hottest boy on the team is.
I think I know!
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4 comments:
What??? No pics of Adam in hockey gear?
By the way, I'm one of those horrible people who watch hockey only to see people get hurt and/or fight. A "no fighting" league? Well, I'm sure you appreciate Adam coming home with all his teeth, but I would've needed a good deal of gossip & booze to get me thru that game too! Bravo, Sarah!
you want pics? i'll give you pics!!
Hooray!!! (o;
I can totally relate. My sons played hockey for years and my 21 year old is in the Navy and plays hockey for his ship. It's a fun sport and fun to watch and totally full of drama. Don't you love how drama can make everyone feel much closer? ha!
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