Nope, its not time for one of Peanut Butter Paul's once-promised thing that quote; "every kid should have at least one of" (see Debate 2004). It's merely a weekend summation of events rewritten in digital king's english. Read ye on, lest ye be unlearned.
I played my first hockey game in over a year this past weekend. This time, its the summer league at Bill's Golf Land. While playing for the same team for years is a good source of annual fun, we really need to invest more money into our recruitment department. It seems like year after year we are constantly hurting to put a full team on the deck at a single time. We have enough players rostered, we just never get much more that four to six players together at any given moment. That's usually fine with me, as I play the entire 60 minutes anyway, but it really takes a toll on Necciai who not only has to play the role of Gretzky, but occasionally lend a hand to our bumbling defense. And boy, can we bumble.
I had an assist on one of Necciai's four goals this weekend. I also ate one of the smaller wingers from the opposing team in front of our net that netted me a two minute stay in the sin-bin. Hindsight being 20/20, I probably would have been better off hittin' the powerade at the intermission, since we not only gave up a power play goal, he also provided little nutritional value.
Afterwards, I went home and promptly got a shower. I couldn't believe how absolutely beat I was. I'm in great shape. I run a mile a day (usually) with at least 10 wind sprints mixed in there. I still am in a bit of shock when I look at how much my endurance has waned over the course of the past year. Taking a year off was quite a step backwards, albeit necessary. (Personal reasons)
Towards the end of the hellish, sweltering Sunday - Reese, Rollo and I claimed Richardson Park as our late evening haunt. We played catch for about an hour while working up a mean, sweaty stench that reached its vilest when we all decided we'd play a "hot round". While this may sound like our desperate attempt at stripping (it's not, but believe me, that will come) it really meant we'd just throw the ball as quickly as we can between the three of us, at close range. This went well until we all ignored our gloves and open-fisted each toss. Reese especially loves this, since she's quite adept at slapping a high speed ball with her hand. Broken fingers? Not quite, but damn close.
Our earlier attempts at catch were plagued by many balls rolling across the grass, across a sidewalk and into a river because either the throw was terrible (usually) or Rollo didn't catch it (equally as usual).
Wrapping it up, we left the park, hit up a freshwater spring, and went home. I was beat, Rollo stank pretty bad, and Reese was interested in a movie. I'll leave you with these questions:
- Did I ever get rest?
- Did Rollo ever get a shower?
- Was Reese's thirst for a movie quenched?
- Will I file a grievance against Grumpy at work?
0 comments:
Post a Comment