Archive for the ‘Hockey’ Category

Headaches, Hangovers & Puck Bunnies: A Horror Story.

Faceoff

Faceoff

At my husband’s recreational hockey game yesterday I actually had to get up, grab my bag and say to my fellow hockey-wife, “I can’t stand it anymore. I have to go sit somewhere else”. You see, the endless squealing escaping the lips of the young, blonde, opposing-team’s girlfriend sitting beside me was more than my head (or my nerves) could handle.

Focused or hungover?

Focused or hungover?

I just kept wishing she would shove the little, pink piglets that childishly adorned her mittens, down her seemingly endless throat.  In all honestly, I suppose I should be thankful that our men don’t play on the same time. The thought of going to every game together makes me gag a little.  Worse yet, we might even have to talk.  And I just wouldn’t have the patience to explain icing to her. And I don’t think she’d have the focus to listen.

Another hockey filled weekend

It's Hockey Season

It's Hockey Season Again

Thanksgiving weekend is upon us; what will you be doing? Much like the rest of my weekends, I’ll be on the couch plugging away on homework assignment after homework assignment. For months, I’ve barely left the house on the weekends. It’s starting to get depressing. Although with the start of hockey season, the couch has become a little bit more comfortable. And the homework, a little less pressing.

But last weekend I did leave the house; because I had to. One of my current projects is to develop a website for my husband’s hockey team. That meant I needed to go get some photos. So I layered up and headed to the Canadian Athletic Club to try and get some decent shots.  And I did.  But what I also got was the refreshing memories of being at the rink.

There’s something about the rink that causes an exhilarating peacefulness to wash over me. Walking into an empty rink after the zamboni is gone but before the players arrive is the best place in the world. The way it smells, the eerie silence. It’s offers a comforting anticipation of what’s to come next.

My husband plays again on Thanksgiving Sunday. And I’ll be there.  With my camera. Taking a break to feel alive, if only for 60 minutes.