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The romance of hockey


Doohickie

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To GoDD and all:

 

I posted earlier as a new SabreSpacer about the general transition from youth to adulthood. Christmas is still glorious even though I know the bite in the cookie is mine and the carrots are back in the fridge. I don't recall the year the feeling changed. I do recall my hockey feeling changing on December 2, 1981. I was twenty, a man-child, and Danny Gare and Jim Schoenfeld were Red Wings.

 

My love of hockey didn't change. My understanding of what hockey actually is did change.

 

I still appreciated the skill and excitement. I still appreciated the menace and passion play of the game within the game. Over time, skill increased and menace decreased. The tank team Sabres would beat the 1975 Sabres 6 to 0. I understood this, but missed the passion play for years. Sabres v Annaheim, ok. Playfair v O'Reilly, YES!

 

During the last few years, and with the remarkable influence of posters here, I've come to miss fighting less and appreciate skill more. I love what I understand better. To GoDD, specifically, I can say that I'm not trying to recapture youth as much as I'm enjoying the memories a different time in my life gave me. My values are different. Both times are beautiful.

 

Regarding skill and to the learned - we've all seen YouTube video of an NHL star skating and tic tacking through a face off circle with thirty pucks strewn about. His skates and stick never touch an obstacle puck. Tic, tack, forward, back. Remarkable. Is it just me, or do you have a hard time seeing a Perreault, a Lafleur, or a Dionne doing this? Awesome.

 

I carried my skates on my stick (Titan) into the woods to a place called The Pits, in Blasdell, to clear a frozen pond. Norman Rockwell looked on.

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  • 1 month later...

I started playing hockey when I was 16 (22 now).  I've always been kinda fit, but it wasn't until I played pond hockey that I actually ever got in shape.  (Except for maybe band camp twice or thrice.)  I've never been a particularly motivated individual, but hockey was so fun that I couldn't stop playing.  Nights out on the pond would seemingly never end.  I'd retrieve my puck from the net and think one more shot.  I'd skate around a couple times and shoot.  Depending on my shot, the rationalization to justify one more shot would change.  That was a good one! Let's see if I can hit the other post and in. (one more shot)  I always shoot high, I should practice low shots too.  (one more shot)  I haven't shot backhand in a while. (one more shot)

 

Those are just for good shots. If the shot sucked, then it's easy: Can't end on a bad shot.  That's only when I'm night skating alone, though.  Most of the time I have a sibling or two available to pass the puck.  My sister and I checked out a new (to us) pond on my hill today.  The man made water holes near my house have been carved to pieces by many eager pond hockey players that had to wait all December long.  Getting a fresh surface is like Christmas morning.  The longer it stays cold, the more Christmas mornings I get.  That's what motivated me to finally type out my piece on hockey romance.  I'm about to leave for my beer league game in 20 minutes.  My brother and I are playing against one another AND my girlfriend is coming.  She's skated with me on the pond but she's never seen me play in a game, so I get to show off tonight.  Unfortunately my brother's team is better than mine so it might get a bit ugly, but it'll the forwards faults (not mine).

 

Hockey has been a great source of stability and happiness for me.  Having struggled with a lot of self doubt after failing out of McGill and being generally a directionless, unmotivated stoner; hockey was a constant source of helping me sort out my mental health issues.

 

Miller got me into it with his 2010 Olympic performance, I was just a casual Sabres fan before that.  I kinda remember the 2007 playoffs.  I remember my mom being sad.  I also got my older brother back into hockey around that time.  He played until he was 15, then quit (probably because he didn't fill out until age 24).  He was converted from a Rags fan into a good guy, so that was a great success for my mom and I. We were eventually able to pester our sister and eldest brother into joining us as well. Now every Saturday all four of us play together at drop in.  Now that the ponds are frozen, we see each other a lot more often.

 

It's just the best.

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Good God. You're only 22?! I've spent more time on the can than you've been alive.

 

I agree, though. It's just the best. I have a game at 10:45 tonight. I played my first game of ice hockey when I was 33 (on my 33rd birthday, actually). I'll be 47 in days and I plan on playing on that day, as well.

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Good God. You're only 22?! I've spent more time on the can than you've been alive.

 

I agree, though. It's just the best. I have a game at 10:45 tonight. I played my first game of ice hockey when I was 33 (on my 33rd birthday, actually). I'll be 47 in days and I plan on playing on that day, as well.

Sweet, I'm not a lost cause.

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Do you have any experience playing, even if it's just pickup street hockey?

He remembers his first game very well. He got 52.7 of his starts on the offensive zone and finished with a Rel Corsi of 51.1. He took no face offs. They didn't matter, or so he thought at the time.

Edited by N'eo
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Do you have any experience playing, even if it's just pickup street hockey?

For sure. Tons of street as a kid, several years of roller hockey and floor hockey as an undergrad. It's been a solid 8-9 years since I held a hockey stick though, I think. My main issue is I could never ice skate very well, albeit with minimal effort to improve.

He remembers his first game very well. He got 52.7 of his starts on the offensive zone and finished with a Rel Corsi of 51.1. He took no face offs. They didn't matter, or so he thought at the time.

This is unbelievably well played my friend :lol:

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I started playing hockey when I was 16 (22 now).  I've always been kinda fit, but it wasn't until I played pond hockey that I actually ever got in shape.  (Except for maybe band camp twice or thrice.)  I've never been a particularly motivated individual, but hockey was so fun that I couldn't stop playing.  Nights out on the pond would seemingly never end.  I'd retrieve my puck from the net and think one more shot.  I'd skate around a couple times and shoot.  Depending on my shot, the rationalization to justify one more shot would change.  That was a good one! Let's see if I can hit the other post and in. (one more shot)  I always shoot high, I should practice low shots too.  (one more shot)  I haven't shot backhand in a while. (one more shot)

 

Those are just for good shots. If the shot sucked, then it's easy: Can't end on a bad shot.  That's only when I'm night skating alone, though.  Most of the time I have a sibling or two available to pass the puck.  My sister and I checked out a new (to us) pond on my hill today.  The man made water holes near my house have been carved to pieces by many eager pond hockey players that had to wait all December long.  Getting a fresh surface is like Christmas morning.  The longer it stays cold, the more Christmas mornings I get.  That's what motivated me to finally type out my piece on hockey romance.  I'm about to leave for my beer league game in 20 minutes.  My brother and I are playing against one another AND my girlfriend is coming.  She's skated with me on the pond but she's never seen me play in a game, so I get to show off tonight.  Unfortunately my brother's team is better than mine so it might get a bit ugly, but it'll the forwards faults (not mine).

 

Hockey has been a great source of stability and happiness for me.  Having struggled with a lot of self doubt after failing out of McGill and being generally a directionless, unmotivated stoner; hockey was a constant source of helping me sort out my mental health issues.

 

Miller got me into it with his 2010 Olympic performance, I was just a casual Sabres fan before that.  I kinda remember the 2007 playoffs.  I remember my mom being sad.  I also got my older brother back into hockey around that time.  He played until he was 15, then quit (probably because he didn't fill out until age 24).  He was converted from a Rags fan into a good guy, so that was a great success for my mom and I. We were eventually able to pester our sister and eldest brother into joining us as well. Now every Saturday all four of us play together at drop in.  Now that the ponds are frozen, we see each other a lot more often.

 

It's just the best.

Interesting you mention this. I started playing in college and it really helped change me as a person. I never played sports a lot as a kid and I think the competition might have done me well. Playing goalie really clicked for me. It allowed me to have fun, get exercise, and matter. No one cared if I was bad, they were just happy to have a goalie. But I wanted to be good, and I discovered that being good took work.

 

For some reason, it took hockey to help me with college. I was an awful student. Too smart for my own good. So I didn't apply myself. I had never learned how.

 

Hockey taught me how. 

 

Hockey has motivated me to the best levels of fitness I've ever had, given me an outlet for stress, and allowed me to meet so many good people. I have a lot of friends because of playing hockey that I wouldn't have otherwise. Hockey has given me some of the best experiences of my life. 

 

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For sure. Tons of street as a kid, several years of roller hockey and floor hockey as an undergrad. It's been a solid 8-9 years since I held a hockey stick though, I think. My main issue is I could never ice skate very well, albeit with minimal effort to improve.

 

This is unbelievably well played my friend :lol:

The first part of that sounds exaaaaaactly like me, I hope I never stop playing for that long though. (Not discounting the possibility that life could take me that direction)

 

I've never had more than 5-6 opportunities to ice skate per year, but the last two years, I spent every second I get on ice working to get better and not just gliding safely in circles, and the progress has shocked me and made me wish I tried harder earlier. Having a history with roller hockey helps a lot. I hope you can get back into it soon!

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Great thread. What is it about the romance of hockey........

 

I was ten when the Sabres were an expansion team. I was lucky as I had some new neighbors who had moved from Chicago and were giant Blackhawk fans and were passionate about hockey. The family had four brothers and I was between the ages of the two youngest. They had a farm pond about one hundred yards from their house. By the time I was 11 or so, lead by the older brothers, we were stringing every extension chord we could find together and running a little pool filter pump so we could flood the ice at night. That hard fresh ice the next morning was magic. I was a lousy skater but I didn't take crap from anyone. Often my skates would get so froze up with slush I'd put my runners on and walk all the way home crying. My mom would put me in the laundry tub and spray hot water on the laces so she could untie them. She would put my skates on top of the furnace. I can still smell that combo of leather, sweat and fresh outdoors rising off the drying skates.

 

The neighbor kids all started playing organized hockey, but our family didn't have enough money. That didn't stop me from playing hard and one of the kids would work with me on skating backwards and gave me pointers he had learned from his coaches. Meanwhile, we had a WT Grant department store in East Aurora and I got a little transistor radio there.  I listened to as many games as I could and often fell asleep only to run upstairs in the morning to ask my grandfather to read me from the Courier Express what the final score was.  When Terry had bought the Sabres and was talking about listening I sat in my office at work with the door closed and I couldn't stop the tears.

 

I especially remember the Montreal Canadiens  Ken Dryden pad measurerment game. I was watching the game on a black and white TV and remember feeling every emotion of sports in that one game. I couldn't sleep that night. I was hooked. Meanwhile I hadn't been to a game. Our family was happy, but in looking back there is no doubt we were hardly wealthy. Four kids, Dad working two jobs, mom making my sisters clothes, wasn't the recipe for seeing the Sabres. My Dad wasn't a sports fan, but my Mom loved the Bills, and while she never found the love of the Sabres I did, she grew up off Hertel Ave and was as true a Buffalonian as you can get. My Dad had just started a new job with NYSEG. They were running new electrical service in the Aud and his contact gave him two tickets to game 4 of the SCF against Philly. He let my mother take me.

 

So yes, my first Sabres game was the fog game. We had a crappy Polaroid camera and film was expensive so my mom only let me take three pictures. The quality is bad but to me they mean everything. I'm 14 and I am sitting with my mom on the ice right next to the players entrance.

 

I loved Schoney and I tried to take his picture as they walked out of the players entrance. I obviously missed.

EK_0184.JPG

 

But I got a picture of him on the ice.

EK_0185.JPG

Lost in the accounts you read is that the Sabres were down two goals, tied it up at 2, again at 3 and 4. It was almost too much for me. When Rene Robert scored in overtime it was absolute bedlam. I've been to some great games played over the years but nothing will ever eclipse that moment.

EK_0182.JPG

 

I remember they had a monitor on top of the TV cameras and they had frozen the goal on it and people were nuts. We sang the "Ooh Ahh Sabres on the Warpath"  chant (kids, remember it starts real slow and gains speed) and I could have cared less that I was with my mom. I thought we would win a Stanley cup many times in the next forty years but it matters to me little. I've watched nephews play the game and made the trip from Rochester to see the Sabres many times and I go to my share of Amerks games and I still feel the passion.

 

I get frustrated, but the game is always beautiful. Go Sabres.

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Great thread. What is it about the romance of hockey........

 

I was ten when the Sabres were an expansion team. I was lucky as I had some new neighbors who had moved from Chicago and were giant Blackhawk fans and were passionate about hockey. The family had four brothers and I was between the ages of the two youngest. They had a farm pond about one hundred yards from their house. By the time I was 11 or so, lead by the older brothers, we were stringing every extension chord we could find together and running a little pool filter pump so we could flood the ice at night. That hard fresh ice the next morning was magic. I was a lousy skater but I didn't take crap from anyone. Often my skates would get so froze up with slush I'd put my runners on and walk all the way home crying. My mom would put me in the laundry tub and spray hot water on the laces so she could untie them. She would put my skates on top of the furnace. I can still smell that combo of leather, sweat and fresh outdoors rising off the drying skates.

 

The neighbor kids all started playing organized hockey, but our family didn't have enough money. That didn't stop me from playing hard and one of the kids would work with me on skating backwards and gave me pointers he had learned from his coaches. Meanwhile, we had a WT Grant department store in East Aurora and I got a little transistor radio there.  I listened to as many games as I could and often fell asleep only to run upstairs in the morning to ask my grandfather to read me from the Courier Express what the final score was.  When Terry had bought the Sabres and was talking about listening I sat in my office at work with the door closed and I couldn't stop the tears.

 

I especially remember the Montreal Canadiens  Ken Dryden pad measurerment game. I was watching the game on a black and white TV and remember feeling every emotion of sports in that one game. I couldn't sleep that night. I was hooked. Meanwhile I hadn't been to a game. Our family was happy, but in looking back there is no doubt we were hardly wealthy. Four kids, Dad working two jobs, mom making my sisters clothes, wasn't the recipe for seeing the Sabres. My Dad wasn't a sports fan, but my Mom loved the Bills, and while she never found the love of the Sabres I did, she grew up off Hertel Ave and was as true a Buffalonian as you can get. My Dad had just started a new job with NYSEG. They were running new electrical service in the Aud and his contact gave him two tickets to game 4 of the SCF against Philly. He let my mother take me.

 

So yes, my first Sabres game was the fog game. We had a crappy Polaroid camera and film was expensive so my mom only let me take three pictures. The quality is bad but to me they mean everything. I'm 14 and I am sitting with my mom on the ice right next to the players entrance.

 

I loved Schoney and I tried to take his picture as they walked out of the players entrance. I obviously missed.

EK_0184.JPG

 

But I got a picture of him on the ice.

EK_0185.JPG

Lost in the accounts you read is that the Sabres were down two goals, tied it up at 2, again at 3 and 4. It was almost too much for me. When Rene Robert scored in overtime it was absolute bedlam. I've been to some great games played over the years but nothing will ever eclipse that moment.

EK_0182.JPG

 

I remember they had a monitor on top of the TV cameras and they had frozen the goal on it and people were nuts. We sang the "Ooh Ahh Sabres on the Warpath"  chant (kids, remember it starts real slow and gains speed) and I could have cared less that I was with my mom. I thought we would win a Stanley cup many times in the next forty years but it matters to me little. I've watched nephews play the game and made the trip from Rochester to see the Sabres many times and I go to my share of Amerks games and I still feel the passion.

 

I get frustrated, but the game is always beautiful. Go Sabres.

Awesome stuff.

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Great thread. What is it about the romance of hockey........

 

I was ten when the Sabres were an expansion team. I was lucky as I had some new neighbors who had moved from Chicago and were giant Blackhawk fans and were passionate about hockey. The family had four brothers and I was between the ages of the two youngest. They had a farm pond about one hundred yards from their house. By the time I was 11 or so, lead by the older brothers, we were stringing every extension chord we could find together and running a little pool filter pump so we could flood the ice at night. That hard fresh ice the next morning was magic. I was a lousy skater but I didn't take crap from anyone. Often my skates would get so froze up with slush I'd put my runners on and walk all the way home crying. My mom would put me in the laundry tub and spray hot water on the laces so she could untie them. She would put my skates on top of the furnace. I can still smell that combo of leather, sweat and fresh outdoors rising off the drying skates.

 

The neighbor kids all started playing organized hockey, but our family didn't have enough money. That didn't stop me from playing hard and one of the kids would work with me on skating backwards and gave me pointers he had learned from his coaches. Meanwhile, we had a WT Grant department store in East Aurora and I got a little transistor radio there.  I listened to as many games as I could and often fell asleep only to run upstairs in the morning to ask my grandfather to read me from the Courier Express what the final score was.  When Terry had bought the Sabres and was talking about listening I sat in my office at work with the door closed and I couldn't stop the tears.

 

I especially remember the Montreal Canadiens  Ken Dryden pad measurerment game. I was watching the game on a black and white TV and remember feeling every emotion of sports in that one game. I couldn't sleep that night. I was hooked. Meanwhile I hadn't been to a game. Our family was happy, but in looking back there is no doubt we were hardly wealthy. Four kids, Dad working two jobs, mom making my sisters clothes, wasn't the recipe for seeing the Sabres. My Dad wasn't a sports fan, but my Mom loved the Bills, and while she never found the love of the Sabres I did, she grew up off Hertel Ave and was as true a Buffalonian as you can get. My Dad had just started a new job with NYSEG. They were running new electrical service in the Aud and his contact gave him two tickets to game 4 of the SCF against Philly. He let my mother take me.

 

So yes, my first Sabres game was the fog game. We had a crappy Polaroid camera and film was expensive so my mom only let me take three pictures. The quality is bad but to me they mean everything. I'm 14 and I am sitting with my mom on the ice right next to the players entrance.

 

I loved Schoney and I tried to take his picture as they walked out of the players entrance. I obviously missed.

EK_0184.JPG

 

But I got a picture of him on the ice.

EK_0185.JPG

Lost in the accounts you read is that the Sabres were down two goals, tied it up at 2, again at 3 and 4. It was almost too much for me. When Rene Robert scored in overtime it was absolute bedlam. I've been to some great games played over the years but nothing will ever eclipse that moment.

EK_0182.JPG

 

I remember they had a monitor on top of the TV cameras and they had frozen the goal on it and people were nuts. We sang the "Ooh Ahh Sabres on the Warpath"  chant (kids, remember it starts real slow and gains speed) and I could have cared less that I was with my mom. I thought we would win a Stanley cup many times in the next forty years but it matters to me little. I've watched nephews play the game and made the trip from Rochester to see the Sabres many times and I go to my share of Amerks games and I still feel the passion.

 

I get frustrated, but the game is always beautiful. Go Sabres.

The fog game was your 1st?

 

:worthy:

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