tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42024770023630044342024-03-21T10:10:27.573-07:00My Hockey HumorIce Hockey - the greatest sport in the world! Youth hockey, amateur hockey and beer leagues are the origination of some of the best memories. And the folks that are a part of this sport bring a little humor to those of us stuck in the back woods.
Enjoy!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-24263565916081378512010-12-31T13:14:00.001-08:002010-12-31T13:36:17.264-08:00LATER 2010LATER 2010<br /><br />First off, I want to wish everybody a terrific New Year. 2011 is going to be one heck of a great year, ehh. You can count on it.<br /><br />A not so famous back woods New Years chant, “May you walk with wood in the morning and may you walk with wood at night. Morning, noon and night you’ll play the whole year long s’long as those splinters give you no fright.”<br /><br />Heh?????<br /><br />You guys got me on that one. Don’t have a clue what it’s supposed mean.<br /><br />I figure that by the time you guys get around to reading this it’s already gonna be some time into the new year but just the same I’m gonna relate this story to you.<br /><br />Unlike most years, I managed to stay up until the wee hours of the night this year which enabled me to ring in the New Year with an atrocious amount of drinking. Ah yeah the honey too. Just the two of us really tied one on this year hanging out here at the cabin. Snowed in and who gives a fuck. Cable was still working (no lines down) and best as I can remember we watched one of those shows that gets piped in from Times Square in New York City. Maybe it was a Dick Clark affair, but I suspect it was hosted by one of those weenies from an ‘80’s or ‘90’s boy band. Don’t really know, don’t really care.<br /><br />I had set the alarm clock to wake me up in time to see the “Winter Classic”. No matter how hung over I was gonna end up being, I sure didn’t want to miss it – so I planned accordingly and had set this early in the day. This, in my opinion, is the best damn thing that has happened in the hockey world since day one. I live for this game! And this year it’s gonna be a hell of a rivalry. Penguins versus the Capitals. Crosby against Ovechkin. All of this being played on outdoor ice, the way the game is supposed to be played. Original roots. Original sportsmanship.<br /><br />I love it. Just hope that I hear the alarm go off and manage to get my fool ass up.<br /><br />…………….<br /><br />Erggggggggg<br /><br />Oh shit my head hurts. Throbbing like maybe both temples have been hit by slapshots. Need some aspirin. Need to take a piss big time. I lift my right hand to my forehead and, and, and I’m falling.<br /><br />Beer cans scatter. My elbow and chin smoosh off of something gooey. Ummm – smells like pizza. Damn, it is pizza. I push my face up from the floor and note that its mushroom and sausage. Yuck what a mess. I just about hurl on the spot, cover my mouth and fall back into the mess again.<br /><br />Now I’m aware of laughter and maybe the voice of a sportscaster.<br /><br />Shit! Am I missing the game? Hope not.<br /><br />“Good to see you finally got up, Jasper. Oh, I mean fell down again.”<br /><br />Ha, ha … more laughter. More voices. Different voices. Sheesh my head hurts.<br /><br />I roll out of the pizza box and can see a gold colored sofa beside me. Musta been sleeping on it ehh? Not in my house. We don’t own one like that. We musta gone to the neighbors or something.<br /><br />I’m a little dazed but things are getting clearer.<br /><br />The razzing was Mikey’s voice. Positive of it. But I haven’t seen him in years. My onetime defensive partner.<br /><br />Yup. It’s him. Sitting on a hassock in front of the TV. A mug in his hand – must be coffee. Need some, but shit I’ve got to pee.<br /><br />I finally stand up and look around. Nope not my place. I look down at the sofa and there’s a crashed out lady laying there with her face buried into the cushions. She’s there, I must a been there too. Skinny, raunchy, gold sofa. Snug. Both of us sleeping there. Doesn’t look like the honey though. I lean over her and gently lift up some of her red hair to see who she might be.<br /><br />Mike whispers with force, “Whoa Jasper. Don’t wake her up. She seems to have a real attitude – hates hockey.”<br /><br />“Who? What?”<br /><br />“Ha, ha. You are so wasted. You brought her over from the bar last night. You two seemed pretty tight, but I was dang ass glad when she passed out. Got wholly quieter around here.”<br /><br />Now this is totally tripping me. Where’s my honey? She’s going to be soooo pissed.<br /><br />I look around, head’s still pounding. What in the world is going on? Where the hell am I?<br /><br />Daggone if this doesn’t look like the house on Randy Lane. Yupper. I’m sure it is. I’m looking into the kitchen and out through the sliding glass door and see that old refrigerator on the patio. It’s gotta be. No doubts now.<br /><br />“Is there some more coffee? Aspirins?”, I ask of Mike.<br /><br />Why am I thinking aspirin and not Advil?<br /><br />“Yeah, there’s a fresh pot on the counter and aspirin in the medicine cabinet of the upstairs bathroom.”<br /><br />I mumble, “Thanks, I’m on that. Gotta take a whiz though first.” I stretch - damn something’s not right down there. My crotch itches like crazy. I look over at the sofa and hope I didn’t get the crabs from that redhead nodded out there that looks like a pile of dirty laundry.<br /><br />Stumbling, I climb the stairs and find the john. The lid’s up so I don’t have to bend over – my head would have exploded. Oh shit. I unzip and reach into my fly to dislodge the little monster in my shorts. What a mess! Some kind of something; foreign, slimy, lumpy, is in my shorts and it ain’t my Johnson. Whatever it is I’ve got to get it out and get it out now. I’m about ready to piss myself already. Come-on! I unhitch my jeans and shove everything down past my crotch and piss all over my hand. My hand and shorts are all bloody. Crapola! What the fuck happened to me. My crotch is really burning but I don’t see any damage to my package. Just all bloodied up. I push my britches down further – have to clean this mess up. <br /><br />What the hell is that in my shorts? There’s a orangish red mass in my shorts. I grab some toilet paper and pick what looks like a bloody turd out of my shorts. And drop it in the toilet. Before I flush the turd gets washed clear and I see that it’s a fucking chicken wing. A hot wing no doubt. How the hell did it get in my pants? Who knows? No point in asking anyone else cuz I’ll get the shit for sure.<br /><br />I push back the shower curtain hoping to find a washcloth and discover a young lady sleeping in the tub on top of a pile of towels. She had one leg hanging over the edge of the tub but it had been hidden by the curtain so I hadn’t had a clue that she was in there until then. Weird. She was clutching a washcloth in one had so I reached to grab it from her.<br /><br />Damn! It woke her up. She looks up at me and sees my mess.<br /><br />“Oh … my … God. What happened to your little thingy?”<br /><br />I respond in desperation, “Fuck you. Nothing. Go back to sleep.” And pulled the curtain back. Freakin embarrassed, I’m a mess, my head’s killing me and I ain’t even at my own place.<br /><br />I put the lid down and sit on it. My shoes are still on (never do I ever sleep with my shoes on) so I take them off. Snoring now on the other side of the curtain. I stand up and remove my pants, throwing my shorts in the trash can. Suds up the wash cloth in the sink and wash the hot wing sauce from my midsection. Wring out the rag and use it to dry off. Re-dress, find the aspirin and head south. Need to try to forget this shit.<br /><br />I get down stairs and find a clean coffee cup in the cupboard and pour myself a cup of joe. I ask Mikey if they’ve got any sugar. He gets up and points me to some. Three heaping teaspoons and the aspirin. I’m set.<br /><br />“Hey Mike, you know you got a female sleeping in the tub upstairs?” I ask as I sit down on the end of the sofa and check out the red head again. Nice ass. Hmmm<br /><br />“No shit!?” and Mike’s bolting up the stairs two at a time. A minute later he’s back down.<br /><br />“Sorcelli brought her back last night. They were going to crash on the couch but you guys were there. I thought they left. He must be crashed out front in his car again. Most nights he sleeps on the couch cuz he doesn’t have anyplace else to go.”<br /><br />“Hmmm, what in the world went on last night? I can’t remember a thing.” Gosh, I’m telling you guys I’m still a bit confused.<br /><br />Mike starts out, “Well I didn’t drink as much as the rest of you guys, but just about everybody from the team showed up at Tweeds to see in the New Year. We closed the place and a few of you came over here afterwards to watch Strange Brew on the VCR. So there you are sweet and true. And the game’s just about ready to start. Caps against the Pens on outdoor ice. Me, Dave and Charlie skated on outdoor ice when we went back to Detroit once with Gavin last winter. It was bitchin.”<br /><br />“Ahh, Tweeds, huh?” I say with hesitation. “It’ll come to me. You know I learned how to play hockey on ponds and the high school I played for had two outdoor rinks. Today’s game should be good.”<br /><br />The announcers are still covering pregame crap when Gavin comes down the stairs scratching his crotch. He’s wearing stained boxers and a tank top. “Game on yet? Damn, I think that wench tried to cut that wart off my pecker last night. She was studying it pretty good for a while and now look at my shorts. They’re all bloody and my pecker is on fire.”<br /><br />Mike says “What? Just about ready to start.”<br /><br />My response, “I’d rather not and maybe you should look for hot wings instead of warts.”<br /><br />He turned around on the stairs and headed back up mumbling some shit under his breath.<br /><br />Player introductions were beginning and it was pouring down rain in the stadium where the game was to be played. Damn this was going to be a disaster. The puck won’t move well on wet ice. And if the rain freezes up then the rink will be like some bad ponds that I’ve skated on. Not good. Easy to break an ankle.<br /><br />Gavin comes back down, wearing sweats now, pours himself a cup a coffee and plops down in a blue rocking recliner.<br /><br />“Jasp, I didn’t remember until you said that shit … that the girls dared us last night to stuff hot wings down our drawers. Dang what a mess and that hot sauce burns like crazy.”<br /><br />“Uh, huh – glad you remembered that cuz I didn’t have a clue why I was such a mess. Did you see the girl in the tub?”<br /><br />“Yeah, Sorcelli’s date last night. What’s with the rain in Pittsburgh?”<br /><br />“Oh, it’s just pouring buckets. They say it’s gonna be socked in like this for the whole game back there. I think they’re probably gonna cancel the game,” Mike fills us in.<br /><br />“Well, fuck that shitolla!” Gavin spits out. “I played in worse weather than that back home before. Many a times, I have.” He pumps out his chest. “They aren’t going to puss out on us like that. Man look at all those fans in the stadium. They will just fucking riot or something.”<br /><br />He leans forward in the recliner and coffee spill all over the carpet. No problem, the place is a rental. The security deposit is long gone by now.<br /><br />Some guy that sounds like Jim McKay but is dressed like Don Cherry with his freaking high collar and foolish coat and tie, is walking out to center ice and making announcements for new sponsors for today’s game.<br /><br />The coffee and aspirin are starting to work a bit so I listen intently so as to focus on something besides the still underlying headache.<br /><br />“We are proud to announce two new sponsors to today’s activities that have stepped forward and provided support and equipment as a contingency in order for the game to continue. We believe that without their input today’s game would be a total washout disappointing millions of viewers. Ladies and gentlemen it is our pleasure to recognize Baden Sports of Federal Way, Washington, USA and G&K Manufacturing Limited of Bathurst, New Brunswick, Canada.”<br /><br />He’s clapping and the crowd’s applauding as the players stand on their bluelines tapping their sticks. In the background you can see that the arena’s staff is moving benches out onto the ice and lining them up behind the players.<br /><br />“I would now like to ask the players to be seated on the benches as one of our sponsors brings out brand new equipment for today’s event.”<br /><br />Ovechkin looks back over his shoulder, sees the benches and then skates into center ice. The showman that he is drops his stick and holds out his hands as the camera zooms in, portraying one of his best what the fuck expressions. He spins around so that all in attendance can see his put on.<br /><br />Meanwhile the rest of the players are beginning to sit down. And it’s still pouring.<br /><br />Out of the shoots come about a hundred sweet little honeys dressed in bikinis and carrying boxes and they step through the gates of the rink and position themselves in front of each of the now seated players.<br /><br />The camera zooms in on one of the boxes and a very nice pair of tits. What I can see on the box says “Forest Traction”.<br /><br />The girls kneel and begin to unlace each of the players’ skates. Some having to unwrap bands of tape to get to the laces. Mind you taking off hockey skates is not such an easy task. Goalie skates is requiring a team of two.<br /><br />This is some pretty sweet videography and Gavin is whistling while Mike makes cat calls. I shoosh them hoping that they won’t wake the unknown red head on the couch.<br /><br />Soon enough all the skates are off and a drum roll comes out of the tv’s speakers as simultaneously the bikinied babes open the boxes and proceed to take out what looks like pairs of high top tennies. Blue ones for the Pittsburgh bench and red ones for the Washington bench.<br /><br />At the same time about another hundred or so babes come out of the bowels of the arena dressed in French maid attire and each of them acting like they’re sweeping with some sort of broomstick that is either blue or red at the sweeping end. They proceed unto the ice and march up to each player and hand one of these broomsticks appropriately colored to each player with a several bundles more being dropped off at each team’s off-ice bench. They gather all of the hockey sticks from the players and the benches and head back to warm places of the arena.<br /><br />By this time all of the players are now laced up in high top tennies and the Jim McKay/Don Cherry dude is now again announcing some more shit. “Ladies and gentlemen again please provide a warm round of applause for G&K Manufacturing Limited for providing Forest-Ice broomball products the Forest Traction top of the line broomball shoe and their aluminum shaft ultra elite Pro 4500 broomball brooms with a molded poly/rubber head.”<br /><br />The camera zooms in on Crosby now and you can see that he’s flabbergasted. They pan down the bench and all of the Penguins appear to be dumbfounded.<br /><br />So am I! Mikey and Gavin are now screaming things that I won’t repeat here. The red head is waking up and Sully is coming down the stairs scratching at his crotch too. Don’t ask!<br /><br />The camera pans the crowd and everybody is on their feet throwing beers, hot dogs – you name it.<br /><br />McKay/Cherry starts talking again as the camera zooms in on some official looking document titled “The International Rules of Broomball”.<br /><br />“Today’s game, which the network and your hockey organization, has been transformed for safety and the utmost level of entertainment into a modified version of the international rules of broomball. Three balls, as provided by our new sponsor, Baden Sports, will be used at all times during the game. The bluelines and the center ice redline will be ignored. Faceoffs will occur after goals, penalty infractions, and to reintroduce a ball into play after it leaves the rink. Running time will ensue, meaning that play is continuous with no stoppages other than to end a period, with each period lasting thirty minutes and twenty minutes between periods. Both benches with their entirety will be allowed on the ice at all times except where a penalty is being served. All on ice officials shall act as referees with the power to assess penalties. In event a team has players that are injured and cannot play then that team may provide a substitute from these staff members only: assistant coaches, trainers and equipment managers provided adequate safety apparel is worn. Without further ado let’s remove these benches from the ice and let the game begin.”<br /><br />The players from both teams crowd around the boards in front of their benches with curious expressions on their faces. Byslma is just shaking his head. The camera zooms in on Boudreau who’s had some difficult times as of late. He’s mic’d and you can hear him telling his players that this one counts for the books so they better give it their all.<br /><br />The three balls are set down along the center ice redline and the buzzer blows to begin play.<br /><br />Huh???<br /><br />What’s that freakin buzzing? Oh shit. It’s the alarm clock. The winter Classic – I’ve got to get up to watch it. Rain or shine it’s gonna be a great game.<br /><br />I roll out of bed, look back at the honey still sleeping – so peaceful. My head is pounding. Too much liquor last night for shit for sure. I stumble around to her side of the bed and give her a kiss and a squeeze.<br /><br />“Honey, you better get up if you want to watch the Rose Parade on TV. She mumbles and rolls on to her back and puts her arms around me as we kiss again. “I love you jasper Wheats, I surely do. Happy New Year. I’ll get up in a few.”<br /><br />“Ditto”, I return. “ Gonna jump in the shower and get some fresh coffee going. Need some Advil really bad. How are you doing?”<br /><br />“I’m fine. Now go. Hurry up with the shower cuz I’ve need to clean up too.”<br /><br />I kiss her one more time and still stumbling I head to the bathroom, scratch my balls and wonder about the weird dream I had last night.<br /><br />2011 is going to be a good one. Later 2010.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-38095228579617363942010-09-06T18:22:00.001-07:002010-09-06T18:27:51.801-07:00Twisted Hockey 2010Summer comes to a close, by popular belief, today here in America. But scientifically it doesn’t end for a couple more weeks. It’s been a fortunate summer for me but not necessarily sweet. Last year at this time I was unemployed however this year I’ve had only three days off since the beginning of summer. <br /><br />Not all good.<br /><br />Late July the company I was contracting for let me go, but the next day my subcontractor hired me to continue running the project. The same shit goes on in the NHL I’m sure. Pro scout today and assistant coach for the farm team tomorrow. Keeps ya busy but pay cuts chase these moves. Wish I was an “in demand” player that could negotiate the big bucks.<br /><br />Yeah, those days are past for this little old crooked puckster. Shoot! I was working with some beginners last year but I haven’t even been on the ice for a few months now. It’s not even all the work but maybe effects of the work – or maybe the last time on the ice. Who knows what causes this crap. I’m pretty sure that I’ve got a torn rotator cuff in both shoulders. The right shoulder, that I tore first, is probably from picking up the engine for my 1957 Fiat 600 (yeah that was more than a year ago but the sucker still hurts) and the left shoulder was fine until after my last skate with the kids.<br /><br />Is it the cause?<br /><br />Hell I don’t know but the timing lines up.<br /><br />Let me relate:<br /><br />I was skating with the kid’s practice and I took a couple of the kids (a boy and a girl) down to the far end of the ice. They couldn’t keep up with the drills. So I had them passing to each other and I’d chase the puck for them.<br /><br />No problem.<br /><br />As the net at this end was good and empty, the father of one of the other kids skated down and started taking slap shots. They weren’t quite as a swift as those of some of my NHL heroes but they had a little more oomph than my shots. He skated by after a couple of shots and said that I had to try his stick – a composite. He said that he waits until the sticks are at the end of production and just a few are left in stock; buying them for about half price. Now that’s a deal if you look at the list price these days. Dang near amounts to a days worth of take home pay to cover leaving a skate shop with one of these babies . Ehh?<br /><br />So I borrow his stick for a few shots. Kinda hurt that he didn’t want to use my old wooden Sher-Wood P.M.P. 5030 SC, Bellows model (you know you guys it’s been a while since I had my hands on a Coffey “curve” model). Yeah it hurt, cuz I always figure that I’m walking with wood and this dad aint. Wassup widat? But I ding a few and it feels like the old days where I could pick a top corner from the blue line.<br /><br />But later that evening my friggin left shoulder is killing me.<br /><br />Was it the composite?<br /><br />Or was it work?<br /><br />Sheesh! Who knows.<br /><br />Now some of you puck heads know that I teach a bit of college for an Illinois university. One class that I taught over the summer included subject matter on the manufacturing and processing of composite products. So, I, of course had to talk to the students about the design of hockey sticks both wood (definitely) and composites (reluctantly) and the relationship to consistent results from well designed composites used by pros today. I also included some minor diversions to aluminum shaft sticks – yahdy, yahdy, yahdy.<br /><br />Maybe I should be a stick designer????<br /><br />I’d really like to not be in pain and have enough time to get back on the ice with these little youngsters. It is so rewarding to see these kids not give up on our sport and to actually show improvement.<br /><br />I’ve helped some of their families out financially by recycling equipment through my connections. As we all know, hockey ain’t cheap. Whatever I can do I do.<br /><br />Back in the day I bought gear for Jingles and Bronzy to keep them in the game. I’d like to think I’m still doing the same thing to promote our great sport.<br /><br />In February I bought a whole bunch of new youth sticks that I planned to distribute this year. Through a buddy I got these at wholesale price. Really a great deal and it didn’t set me back too bad. Nice little sticks from Bauer with your typical Nike logo (are these guys into everything now?)<br /><br />But here’s the bitch of the deal: The pretty little sticks got recalled (March 18, 2010 by Health Canada and April 1, 2010 by US Consumer Product Safety Division – release #10-189). The lead in the undercoat paint and decals on these sticks exceeds the limits for children here in the US and Canada.<br /><br />Nuts, what do they figure? Are the kids going to eat these sticks or something? Oh yeah, high stick to the choppers and your eating my paint boy. Not going to happen. All these kids wear face cages any more until they’re eighteen or something. Right?<br /><br />What’s wrong with a little lead? It was in almost all light colored paints when I was kid. And I turned out ok, didn’t I?<br /><br />Well, some may disagree but that’s beside the point.<br /><br />Umm …. disagree about the problem with lead paint or disagree with my well being and sanity?<br /><br />Ha, ha, ha!<br /><br />I ate the damn sticks. I mean I ate the costs because I had to trash them because the return costs would have been almost as much as my purchase price. What a waste. Huh?<br /><br />I just didn’t feel right in giving them away.<br /><br />Maybe there was a “midget” league I could have given them to. You know, guys that are shorter than me – not a lot shorter but shorter by golly. I looked for such a league but had no luck. The sticks would have been ok for adult midgets since the recall was based on exceeding lead limits for kids. To be so lucky.<br /><br />Twisted summer. Twisted hockey.<br /><br />My father in law passed away this summer too.<br /><br />That kinda sucked. Great guy – the father of my honey. If he had played hockey in his youth I bet he would have had the skills of the Pocket Rocket. Same build, same intensity in all that he did. He’s missed so badly. God bless Jack’s soul.<br /><br />Then there’s the Blackhawks, Stanley Cup winners. Is half their team traded away already? Salary caps be damned! Can they even make a show of it this coming season? We’ll see, we’ll see.<br /><br />And Stevie leaving behind his Michigan heritage to join a Florida organization. Kudos to the south, ehh!<br /><br />And damned if Mr. Chris Chelios didn’t finally hang them up. My hero of heroes. What am I going to do now for Pete’s sake? I was hoping that the dude would at least skate until he was my age or at best until he reached legal retirement age and could draw social security benefits. Detroit gets him for some sort of youth development dude. What a contrast ehh? Well he walks with wood until the day he dies and the “kids” better appreciate that.<br /><br />My bud, Jamie, summed up the whole situation with foolishness on facebook, “Sad day today. Chris Chelios retired. My dream is probably dead. He was the only player in the NHL that is older than me. The NHL scouts will probably stop coming to my men's league games.”<br /><br />Yupper! Twisted summer. Twisted hockey.<br /><br />What’s your story?<br /><br />Season’s almost here, so skate hard and walk with wood.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-70529625756934655582009-12-31T16:46:00.001-08:002009-12-31T16:51:58.544-08:00Yo – Penalty ShotsWord is that a couple of NHL teams played last night and one team was awarded two penalty shots and scored on both of them.<br /><br />True, true. The Sharks beat the Capitals last night 5 to 2 and two of the Sharks goals were scored on penalty shots. At 16:37 of the second period Clowe scored his tenth goal of the season on Neuvirth and Thornton later got his eleventh of the season on him at 8:08 of the third. Both shooters went high on Neuvirth. Bet he’ll work on that in his next practice.<br /><br />Ohhh, you betcha!<br /><br />Even still, I thought Ovechkin’s twenty-sixth goal of the season, scored in the third was just dynamite. This guy is something unbelievable and I love the way he plays. All balls and nothing held back. I watch him skate and it’s reminiscent of a kid that Jingles and Bronzy skated with back when they were Bantams (Bronzy was still PeeWee age but played up that year) for the Garden Grove Americans. The Americans wore the old gold and purple sweaters like the LA Kings at the time. The kid’s name was Tim Sirotta. Don’t know what happened to him, but his skating style was so much like Ovechkin’s – yet I see him on the ice every time I watch Alex.<br /><br />Tim had a younger brother or two. One skated as a goalie for me. He also had two older brothers. Mike was the younger of these two and was a heck of a goalie himself. One of the private high schools around the Twin Cities had him play for them. I played some senior puck with him later and could usually beat him five-hole because he was so skinny – there was that spot above his pads that when pulled together was still just a nasty little gap you could pound the puck through.<br /><br />But back to the game last night. That was something pretty good for the Sharks, ehh? And that is tough for me to spit out because, as you know I’m a die-hard Kings fan. The last time that an NHL team scored two penalty shots in a single game was on February 11th of 1982. While in Detroit playing the Redwings, the Canucks scored two. Both were scored in the third period of that game on Detroit’s goalie at the time - Gil Gilbert. The first was scored by Thomas Gradin at 5:55 and the second was scored with a half a minute left to play by Ivan Hlinka who was shooting for Stan Smyl that had been injured in the penalty shot call. Smyl, even to this day, yields a ton of respect in Vancouver. The game ended up in a tie, 4 to 4.<br /><br />Remember “ties”? Crazier than shit but I kinda wonder if we’re gonna remember “checking” in a couple of years.<br /><br />Two penalty shot goals in a game is something. And to be scored by just one of the teams is even more impressive. It’s something that pretty much only shows up in the record books. Most of us never saw the last time it happened back in that game in Detroit in 1982. Hell, over half of ya reading this probably weren’t even born yet. Who knows how many of us saw last night’s edition to the record books. A bunch more than in 1982 thanks to cable broadcasts; that’s for sure.<br /><br />But I can remember a game that was even more outrageous. A beer league game that I played in, it was. And how I can remember it is beyond me – duh – beer league. We definitely spent more time in the bar than on the ice. Too many nights where I didn’t have a clue how I ended up where I was in the morning. Ha,ha! Sometimes good and sometimes bad.<br /><br />Shit for sure this game was something else. It had to have been sometime between last night’s game and 1982. Couldn’t tell ya what year for sure or even who the heck we were playing against. And I’ll be damned if I could tell you what the final score was. But it was high scoring for both teams; like 15 to 19 or something like that.<br /><br />There were about eight or nine of us sitting in the dressing room getting dressed. We’re all shooting the shit and gagging because of how bad the room stunk. It wasn’t surprising that it smelled that way because the flu was going around and guys had been spewing their dinner in the trashcan and corners over the past couple of weeks. I’m sure I was under the weather myself but even so, back then, I’d always dose up on Sudafed, aspirin and highly sugared coffee before games when I was sick. (Yeah, you guys are thinking, “Jasper, you are just one sick mofo anyway.”)<br /><br />We had the first game slot that night after the public session and we’re sitting in there and hear the Zamboni getting off the ice and – NO GOALIE. Damn, I think that we carried two at that time but neither had shown up. Nobody had gotten a phone call and this was before cell phones and texting, so you couldn’t just buz or text somebody to find out what the deal was.<br /><br />Kenny, who was running the team at the time and had just been to the head chucking his cookies, suggested that we ought to forfeit the game but skate anyway. We were scratching our balls and mulling this around – didn’t have a goalie and didn’t even have two full lines and defensive pairings.<br /><br />Well shit howdy!<br /><br />We had already paid for this month of the season and we sure wanted to skate, but to take a forfeit was such a friggin waste. Time was running out – we needed to get on the ice for warm ups.<br /><br />Before we could make a decision one of the refs came in and said that our opponents were without a goalie and asked if we still wanted to play. He didn’t know that we were also missing our netminder.<br /><br />Kenny, let him in on our dilemma and said “Let’s talk with them.”<br /><br />We all met out on the ice down by their bench and decided that we’d play and neither would take a forfeit. Somebody said that the rink’s back room had a couple of old blockers and catching gloves that could be used by somebody in the nets.<br /><br />So it was decided, some gear was found and each team posted a player in the crease as we got underway.<br /><br />Jingles, one of the leading scorers in the league decided to act as our goalie. That might hurt us, but he was nuts enough to stand in the nets trying to stop shots and nobody else would. I don’t know who the idiot was at the other end but neither of them had face protection, pads, or goalie sticks. You know the drill if it was pickup – no slappers and no lifts; but huh-uh – not here - everything goes. It was for two points, ehh!<br /><br />We were underway and Jingles was trying to act like a real goalie. You know crouching and holding his stick just so while staying in the net. It wasn’t helping – about five minutes in they had already scored three goals on him. Ditto at the other end. It was pathetic.<br /><br />Jingles (and his opposite) started coming out of the net and acting like a third defenseman. One time he even skated up with the puck all the way past the redline leaving our net wide open. It was still a disaster. Goals were being scored by either side at will.<br /><br />Before the second period we decided that we’d just start tripping anybody that went to the net with the puck. Our opponents must have decided the same thing because pretty soon penalties were being issued as frequently as goals. Quite a few calls were for penalty shots too. Jingles alone must have drawn about five penalty shot calls. He was snarling and pissed; chasing people around our end of the ice hooking at will. The last half of the game (running time) he spent more time in the crease trying to prevent penalty shots from scoring then he did for preventing goals during normal play. It was hilarious! Neither goalie stopped a single penalty shot. The two guys working the game would just laugh at us as we took another center-ice faceoff after each goal was scored. Must have been the most “fun money” they had ever made. Shitters!<br /><br />How many penalty shots were there in this game? Damned if I could tell you but it sure as shit was more than two per team.<br /><br />Did we make the record books that night? Oh, hell no. Beer league record books? Are ya fuckin kidding?<br /><br />Was each team laughing stock to those who heard about this fiasco? Oh you betcha! <br /><br />Did Jingles want to play in the nets again? Probably – but he’s absolutely nuts sometimes and yeah that means the dude walks with wood. Right?<br /><br />The year is coming to a close in just few hours and I just want to wish all my puck buddies (that’s dudes and dudettes) a really great crazy-ass new years. Hope 2010 treats ya a-ok.<br /><br />Tip one for ol’ Jasper tonight. Ehh.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-60279889777186989972009-11-14T20:46:00.000-08:002009-11-14T21:00:23.320-08:00That Place (no. 1)So you’re thinking right now that you’re the hottest dangler on the ice.<br /><br />No? <br /><br />The best back-checker?<br /><br />No?<br /><br />The hardest hitter?<br /><br />No?<br /><br />A brick wall in the nets?<br /><br />Nope?<br /><br />Goal scorer extreme?<br /><br />No.<br /><br />Ok …<br /><br />A really nice person?<br /><br />No?<br /><br />A really attractive individual?<br /><br />No?<br /><br />Poof! Me neither, but I walk with wood every day. I hold my head high by my accomplishments but am humbled by my failings. Shit, I’m only human. Ehh?<br /><br />I don’t just judge myself by my physical form and capabilities, but also by my emotional spirit. Does that mean that underneath it all, under all that rabble-rousing – on and off-ice shenanigans, I’m just a weak-kneed pantywaist?<br /><br />Ha! I don’t think so. No sirree! And you shouldn’t think that way of yourself either.<br /><br />I’d guess that if you’re reading this than more than likely you’re a puckster like myself. Or maybe you’re just one heck of a hockey fanatic. So … that aspect of our lives is one of our attributes. There is something chivalrous about our sport and I think God made it that way.<br /><br />This past week another great group of guys were inducted into the hall of fame. Watching these activities and games this past week also allowed the sportscasters to talk to us about how the bigwigs feel about the current injuries plaguing players these days. It seems as though head bashing – high hits – are taking guys out. What’s the cause of all of this? What is an equitable remedy? You know, I don’t know. Skate with your head up? That would be my first suggestion. Don’t take hitting away from the game. It makes the game. Are too many players coming out of the ranks of playing with face cages and that facial protection it provides. Have these players also habitually had to look down more because of the restrictive visibility near their feet? Possibly.<br /><br />I remember playing some lunch time pickup some years back. During a rest on the bench one of the young pups that was there with me said “You play full check don’t you?”<br /><br />I said, “Yeah, I used to. Why do you ask?”<br /><br />He said, “Cuz you never look down.”<br /><br />Hmmmm … could our old yell at the refs ‘pull your head out’ be now updated to a yell at our favorite players ‘get your head up’? Could be, could be. Let’s just not over-regulate this vigorous game.<br /><br />Good stuff – hockey! I love it. I live it. And I’ve been beat up by it. Where do we go from here?<br /><br />I know a place. I like to think that it’s a secret spot. Some place that nobody else knows about. It’s in the back woods, all protected by a berm and heavy brush. You normally can’t see the berm because the brush is so thick. I don’t think it’s natural. Probably dug out by a bulldozer years ago – or maybe even earlier by Native Americans. It could be a glacial pot hole, but I don’t think so because of the fully surrounding berm.<br />So, it’s sort of a pit that fills up with water. More than a pond, almost a lake. Heavy stands of trees shelter and shade its edges from the north and west. But it gets the morning sun just fine.<br /><br />It isn’t very deep so it doesn’t support fish. Dang! But frogs call it home and deer visit it quite a bit. I see their trails more than I see them.<br /><br />I don’t know if it’s the gravel bottom or what, but there is very little vegetation growing in the water. There aren’t any reeds growing in it and no muskrat mounds to be seen. I’m pretty sure that during a good winter that it freezes up right solid.<br /><br />I’ve skated on it a few times.<br /><br />That place, you see, is about a half hour hike in from a dirt road up the other side of the river from here. I came upon it while doing some soul searching quite a few years back.<br /><br />My grandpa had died. He lived too far away for me to afford getting to his funeral. I was just a young adult and still pretty wet behind the ears. Green? Yeah, real green, that was me.<br /><br />It was my first encounter with death. Or at least the death of someone I really knew. We weren’t real close, but I loved the man deeply. He let me taste and test his home brews when I was just a kid. He showed me how to pitch horseshoes back in the alley. He was a good guy and enjoyed his port wine while sitting at the kitchen table listening to sports on the radio and talking to his parakeet Petey.<br /><br />I guess my emotions had gotten the best of me as I parked the car and started walking into the woods. I was deep in thought trying to contemplate the meaning of his death. He was my dad’s dad. And I wasn’t the oldest grandson but I was the oldest that carried the Wheats name. It made me wonder what my obligation was to my name. There aren’t a lot of us Wheats in the world and surely my debt would be due.<br /><br />So I walked and I walked. I stumbled over deadfall tree limbs and protruding rocks. Yeah, I had my head down a lot trying to keep from falling, but when I’d come to a clearing and the sun would hit me I’d look up and cry to my Lord with questions I couldn’t voice. There were tears, yes, and I’d wipe them away with my soiled hands. My face must have been a grungy mess as I think back now.<br /><br />There wasn’t any real path, just deer trails I’d follow until I’d come to a clearing then head out again trying to keep the sun to my left so that I’d eventually find my way back. Eventually I stood at the bottom of the berm and thinking that it was a small hill I climbed up it seeking a spot fully in the sun to sit and try earnestly to pray with some sense of mind. Fat chance of that happening as I was now just fully torqued.<br /><br />But I climbed up and discovered the pit of water on the other side. I was in awe of its beauty and the solitude of the spot. I knelt down and tried to talk to my grandpa and God I guess. They didn’t talk back. I was calmed by the one-sided conversation just the same and later laid back and looked up to the sky. Pale blue with wisps of high clouds like goose down blowing from a torn jacket.<br /><br />I fell asleep only to wake up with very large ants crawling all over me including my grungy face. They startled the crap outta me. Don’t really favor insects, you know you guys.<br /><br />I jumped up and ran on out of there. No revelation, no answers – some peace and some satisfaction in discovering a secret silent place.<br /><br />A place that I could visit again if I needed too.<br /><br />But a place that I wouldn’t want to share.<br /><br />Why is that? That we sometimes become so selfish of our places of refuge? <br /><br />I don’t know, but I went back a few times over the years. A couple of young ladies broke my heart along the way and I had to visit that place and really quiz the Big Guy why life had to be such a big bucket of cold piss. Oh yeah, I was hurt and definitely bent outta shape. Again I did all the talking. Nuts!<br /><br />And then I met my honey and I didn’t have much reason to traipse off into the backwoods again for lots and lots of years. Although she gave me reason to sit on that berm again but it was to praise and rejoice as she survived her second bout with cancer and the chemotherapy treatments. Yes, God is good!<br /><br />But somewhere in between these visits, my ma died. I didn’t deal with it well. My grief was suppressed and I was more angry than sad. She passed away in late March and it wasn’t until the following January that the grief crippled me and I finally had to go visit that place. Dad suffered greatly and now finally his sadness was mine also.<br /><br />You know, she used to come with Dad to watch Jingles, Bronzy and me play hockey. She loved those Outlaws – didn’t like our drinking so much – but loved us just the same. She’d holler at the refs and opposing players. She was a good fan. God bless her. She was there when I broke my arm and she was there when my eye almost was poked out. Somebody else gave her a ride home, cuz I remember Dad took me to the hospital both times.<br /><br />She beat me as a kid. But what the hey? I deserved it I’m sure. She worried up a storm after the hospital called that time I had my motorcycle accident. I moved back home for a while after that one.<br /><br />The year after her death, sometime around Christmas my emotions just started taking over more and more. My work was suffering – I was turning into basket-case.<br /><br />So, early one Saturday morning I decided that I’d go out to that pit in the woods. There was somebody that I needed to talk to. It was a brisk, cold morning and I decided that I’d try to go for a skate while I was out there. Maybe it would make me feel better. I grabbed my Bauers, a stick, stuck a puck in my coat pocket and hit the road. I didn’t figure that there’d be an easy place to park out there so I threw a shovel in the truck – there’d be snow to shovel in order to get off the road.<br /><br />The old dirt road had been plowed maybe once during the season and the going was slow. I got to the other side of the river and decided that I probably didn’t need to do any shoveling. It looked like no one else had been on the road for weeks so I just pulled as far over to the right as I could. The off road tires would get me out of here later.<br /><br />I think, ‘Gee, there’s no deer trails visible now.’ <br /><br />The woods were all snow covered. I had to figure out how to get out there strictly on memory. Help me out here Ma.<br /><br />It took most of an hour, but I found that place eventually. I fell down a bunch of times and used my stick as a poking feeler to probe for deep snow and buried limbs that would have trapped my feet. But I was here – at the base of the berm.<br /><br />And damn it, I was mad. I screamed, “Ma, why’d ya have to die. Why do I have to feel so guilty about it? God this just isn’t right!” I ranted and I raved and eventually just sat down in the snow and cried my heart out for a good fifteen minutes or so. She had always made me feel so mad at her when I was younger, but I had loved her just the same. It was so much conflict.<br /><br />Again, it was just me talking. I got no response.<br /><br />Finally I got a grip on things and decided that I felt much better and should give the ice a skate. I used the stick to help me struggle up the berm. When I got to the top I screamed out in anguish.<br /><br />What in the world was I thinking? There was no exposed ice – it was all snow covered. I swore and threw my stick and skates back down the slope, sat down on my butt and slid back down myself. I swore some more and picked up my gear and started walking back out via the tracks I made coming in.<br /><br />I hadn’t taken more than ten steps when I got hit with a wind. A hot wind. I kept walking. By the time I had taken ten more steps the snow wasn’t crunching anymore. It was all mush but only as I stepped. Everywhere else ahead of me was crisp undisturbed snow, but my tracks and my steps were melting right down to fall leaves and dirt.<br /><br />I stopped and pulled my stocking cap off because I was getting really hot. I unzipped my coat too. I’m thinking that this is just too weird. I took my mittens off and while stuffing them in my pockets I glanced over my shoulder back towards the berm I had just slid down. All of the snow on the berm for as far as I could see was melted and gone. What in the world was going on?<br /><br />Curious, I walked back to the berm and climbed up it and looked down into the pit below. Damned if all the snow was gone. I could see a skim of water on top of the ice below. What had just happened? There is snow all around and I’m in the middle of some sort of focused heat wave.<br /><br />I ponder the situation – quite confused. Why is it so hot? It’s freakin January for Pete’s sake. It was twenty below last night and now all this snow around me is melting. Melting? Phooey, it’s gone!<br /><br />I do a spin-o-rama atop of the berm there and just sit my ass right back down again. As butt meets berm my nose tingles. The moisture in my nose just crystallized. There was a snap and all the sweat in my hair froze too. I think my right hand had frozen to the rock that it lit upon.<br /><br />Oh my rolly jolly sweet cookies! Have I been smokin rope again or what? Did someone slip me a hit of Sidney Australia cuz I must be dreamin? The sky was pink and then it rippled rainbow before ending up back to that brilliant blue of winter. And I’m friggin freezing.<br /><br />I looked down into the pit and there was a sheet of unmarred glaze ice. Pristine. I stood up again and the puck dropped out of my pocket. It rolled down and slid out onto the ice.<br /><br />Oh my goodness I’ve got to lace em up. God bless this place! Ma, this skate’s for you!<br /><br />I sit back down and unlace my boots – one at a time and replace them with a Bauer. I grab my stick and butt scoot down the slope to the ice. I kneel on one knee checking the ice to make sure it is what it is then get up on both feet as I whistle and stride off after the puck. Crisp, sweet ice. And so quiet out there I could hear the edge of each blade cutting the ice. So surreal. Like one of those scenes in an action movie where everything stands still except the action hero, or the bullet, or whatever.<br /><br />I don’t have any nets to shoot at so I skate and I stick handle. I cut left, I cut right, I cut right again. Perfection! I switch to backwards winding up to the right and drive into forward with all cylinders firing. I’m on fire. This is the greatest skate ever. I’m ecstatic, I’m in the zone and the sky is going all rainbow on me again.<br /><br />A few minutes later, while about as far away from my boots as I can get on this sheet of ice, I turn hard to the left and kick the puck up from behind me and lose it for a second. I look down and I get bumped. <br /><br />Whoa! Some big bruiser just came up along side of me and leaned in. Where did he come from?<br /><br />He didn’t say a word. Neither did I. But he skated off with the puck and I wanted it back. A game of keep-away ensued. A test of our skills? Or was it just a test of my skills? I could never quite get it. So frustrating. He’d deftly handle the puck within my reach to taunt me and then pull it away before I could touch it. And skate? Like the wind, he could. But silent – I couldn’t hear him cutting the ice. Was this dude supernatural? Mon Dieu! Is this God on ice? Or maybe one of his angels? Who is he, Viz Clortho, the keymaster of Gozer or what?<br /><br />He came out of nowhere. He skates in silence. And his skills are more than superb.<br /><br />This whole morning has been totally bizarre. I needed the healing from the death of my ma but this was something else. So much more. My mind went into overdrive and I started hyperventilating. I got whoozy and passed out.<br /><br />When I came-to he was standing spread eagle over the top of me and said, “You doing ok Wheats?”<br /><br />I tried to lift my head off the ice and whispered, “Who are you and how do you know my name?”<br /><br />He chuckled and said, “Well I’ve been sent to help you out. My names Mark L’Ours,” as he reached a hand down to help me up.<br /><br />“L’ours?” I said. “What does that mean?”<br /><br />“Ha, ha!” he laughed again. “It means the bear. And you’ve had enough for the day. Let me help you up and get you back over to your boots. I’ve been listening to you and now it’s time for you to go home.” It was more a command then a suggestion.<br /><br />No more was said until I had my boots back on. He had stayed on the ice and now asked if I minded that he hung onto the puck.<br /><br />I said, “Sure why not, you hung onto the dang thing nearly the whole skate anyway. Yeah go ahead, keep it.”<br /><br />He turned and skated off yelling back over his shoulder, “See ya around Wheats. Maybe the Outlaws could use me, ehh?” And chuckled some more.<br /><br />About fifty yards out he just vanished. I’m baffled. What in the world just happened to me. I began to shiver and looked to the heavens as snow started to fall. It was a long walk back to the truck. I guess I’ll walk with wood. I’ve been to that place and back.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-14427402807737947092009-09-04T12:59:00.000-07:002009-09-04T13:19:40.345-07:00THUG ZAPPER (no. 5) The Conclusion<strong>The Conclusion</strong><br /><br />Ok, so this whole tale of now five episodes began back right after Easter of 2009. It started with me making my picks for the 2008/2009 NHL Stanley Cup Playoffs.<br /><br />To recap events so far:<br /><br /><strong>No. 1<br /></strong><br />I hooked up with Rup Iverson, NHL rep – Enforcement Technology in Oakland, CA while on a job hunting trip to the west coast. He was in the middle of a secretive test of a method to control fighting in the NHL via use of a taser type apparatus. Needless to say the test was a complete fucked up mess. One of the on ice officials that was supposed to zap a player involved in a major tussle accidently shot the fool thing right into his own face. It gagged me something fierce the way a smoldering decaying dead moose will when you come across it in the woods prior to wolves finishing their cleansing of the carcass.<br /><br />Yup it convulsed me at the damage done and even the inclination of an idea to end fighting in hockey. Whoa! What a shame.<br /><br />Anyway, Rup realized that his test was a rip and before I left he asked me to look into developing something better. He hinted that I could make a lot of money if something successful came out of my workings. You know, he gave me all that bullshit that he really respected me for what I’ve done for hockey and that I was walking with wood …. blah, blah blah.<br /><br /><strong>No. 2<br /></strong><br />It’s mid May now and I’ve already revised my picks for the Cup. Wishy-washy on my part? Yeah, well so what. I got to watch more good-hockey on Versus this year than any ever previous. (Ahh, yah – we can thank unemployment for that, ehh?)<br /><br />Well I flew back home from the west coast and even though I can’t stand the thought of no fights in hockey – I spent much of the flight thinking about ways to do this and make some money. Strange how not having an income drives your thought processes. Some will give up their religion to earn a buck, ehh?<br /><br />Once home and back in the saddle with my honey I schedule a meeting with my crew to see if they buy into this shit for Rup and the NHL. We watch a game, drink beers and eat heated up frozen pizza. Its my usual buds: bros Jingles and Bronzy, Stinky and D-Pity. A good assortment of scroungers, moneybags, tech-geeks and foolhardy risk takers that love hockey. Yeah maybe Rup is right; me and my boys do walk with wood. We can be the shit, ya know.<br /><br />Our plan is to come up with something like remote controlled dog training collars. Salvaging stuff from Stinky’s junk yard, some returns from Bronzy’s work and Jingles’ ingenuity we ought to piece something together on the cheap. If it works out then D-pity can fund us to go into production.<br /><br />The best memories that I’ll take from this meeting is the recollection we had of Jingles’ old junior coach referring to his son’s girlfriend being about as handsome as a can of smashed assholes. What a hoot Bif was!<br /><br /><strong>No. 3<br /></strong><br />Now it’s already late June and the Stanley Cup finals are behind us and the Penguins have taken it all. Way to go boys! That was some great hockey played this year. I can’t wait until season.<br /><br />We held another little pizza and beer soiree. The pizza was fresh this time thanks to Bronzy. And the brewskies were some of Jingles’ home-brews – that stuff will just torque your ass. D-Pity, Wayno Studholm, couldn’t make it this time due to his planned development on his farm property for an ice rink. Jingles had managed to piece together one working system of collar, charging system and remote control.<br /><br />Jingles gave us just a shit load of techno-crap that just went right over our heads but said that he and his youngest, Dilbert, had done some testing on it at home down in the basement. He thought that it worked just fine even though the test had been through his jeans on his calf instead of around his neck.<br /><br />With this info we set up an on-ice test in a game situation with some of the guys that skate pickup and some of the Nightmares. Jingles is going to wear the collar, I’ll zap him remotely from off-ice and Stinky will videotape the whole thing. The whole idea was for the opposing players to take as many chances as possible to instigate a fight with Jingles.<br /><br />It comes down to a pretty good sized young pup named Joshy that finally got Jingles ticked off. I let them each throw a few punches and everybody else is backing off letting the fight develop fairly. Ehh? I zap him once and all he does is growl like wild cat. I let the system recharge for five seconds then hit him again.<br /><br />Jingles comes unglued and picks the kid completely up and throws him over the net. Stinky goes bananas trying to film the whole scene. Bronzy jumps over the boards and skates up to Jingles to calm his ass down.<br /><br />Finally, checking things out, Joshy is okay and Jingles leaves the ice and comes up into stands and sits with me. He says that he doesn’t think it works. All it did was make him lose it and get angrier.<br /><br />We chug some beers after the skate ends and all plan to meet again in a week or so.<br /><br /><strong>No. 4</strong><br /><br />We have the meeting at Jingles’ place for a big old barbeque. More home brew than you can imagine and Jingles has to give us a tour of his little brewery. Long necks all around. Yupper!<br /><br />Since his debacle on the ice last I mentioned, he had dicked around with the collar some and amped it up a notch so as to give a stronger initial shock. In the course of our drunken discussion we sort of came up with the idea that we’d name our device the Thug Zapper (hence the name for all of these foolish little tales, ehh).<br /><br />We all about suffocated as Stinky regularly cut the cheese. Sure glad that Jingles had installed a top of the line ventilation system down there for his brewing processes or we all might have died.<br /><br />We basically now have two complete Thug Zappers and D-Pity agrees to wear one besides Jingles in our next test session. I reiterate that the damn device has to break up a fight or we aren’t going to get one red cent from Rup and the NHL.<br /><br />Before we depart from the basement Jingles pulls out something resembling the nuclear briefs that I gave to him as a joke Christmas gift when he was a kid. The dang thing is a wired up electrified jock strap. After all the “No ways!” had settled down, he explained that it was only a back up idea if our current version doesn’t work out.<br /><br /><strong>So its time for another test and to move on with this story.<br /><br />No. 5<br /></strong><br />We made arrangements and bought the ice that was usually for the Friday night pickup. The regular pickup guys didn’t know the difference except that we charged them a few bucks less than normal because they might lose a little ice time due to us trying to test something. (Ha, ha!)<br /><br />Prior to the skate and since Jingles’ barbeque he said that he had spent a little more time fine tuning the equipment and told us that it was all going to work great. “Going to be no problems tonight. No sirree!”<br /><br />Since word had gotten around about the test that we had already done. Jingles explained to everybody what was going on and that if there was any disgust with his or D-Pity’s play to not hesitate to drop the gloves and ”start pistoning our immaculately perfect faces.” He explained that I’d be in the stands controlling the remote of the Thug Zappers and then he showed them the collars.<br /><br />Joshy was part of the group and he moaned, “Oh no … not this royal shit again.”<br /><br />Jingles apologized to him again and said that the system should work much better this time and that he expected to drop immediately upon getting zapped tonight. Totally and instantly disabled.<br /><br />Well that was the plan.<br /><br />I could see that Wayno, old buddy, old pal, was getting a little fidgety. He signed up for this at the barbeque so I hoped that he wouldn’t back down now. His new girl friend, the architect, was in attendance so I went to talk to her and told her that she had to convince him to head-on strong for the team cuz we needed him to not back out now. Ehh?<br /><br />So she yells at him to come over and when he gets there she cozies up to him, rubbing her body all over his gear and giving him little love pecks. Then she turns to me and gives me a wink.<br /><br />Shit if that did him a lot of good. Like he could feel her through his gear, ehh? Maybe she got something out of it other than gear odor. Whew!<br /><br />Anyway it did the trick and old D-Pity was ready to roll.<br /><br />We got the skate underway and like a usual pickup game we weren’t using any officials. You police your own game cuz it’s just for fun. Right? Each team had almost enough guys for two complete line changes. It probably would have better if we had more on each side; that way everybody would have more energy and the tempers could flair a little better.<br /><br />A decent, no, let me say a great goalie was in each net. One will be a first year midget this year, normally too young to skate in late night pickup but goalies are an exception and never have to pay either. I’m glad that they showed up. So were the other guys. It always makes for a better skate if ya have netminders. Everybody plays like they would in a game (ha, ha – except for the shift durations, ehh) if they aren’t tipping the nets over or playing pipes only.<br /><br />I’ve got the clicker for each Thug Zapper collar. Left hand is holding the one that D-Pity is wearing and my right hand has Jingles’. Stinky is running the video camera again sitting right next to me in the stands.<br /><br />So you ask “Jasper Wheats, why the hell aren’t you skating too?”<br /><br />Shit all mighty. Ever-since I had the friggin brain injury, I haven’t played a single shift. I’ve even turned over Norris’ Nightmares to be coached by Bronzy and Jingles. It’s only recently that I have been on the ice at all and that has only been to help coach beginners that are just learning to keep their feet below their asses. And I’ll tell you that my own sense of balance sometimes isn’t a whole lot better than theirs.<br /><br />Satisfied? Ehh? Well I’m still walking with wood anymore – only it just might be little wood. Ha, ha!<br /><br />Moving on here and getting back to the action on the ice, it’s obvious it’s going to be a good skate. To keep Jingles an Wayno from fighting with each other they played on the same team. Bronzy joined them too cuz he said he didn’t want to fight with either one of them. Joshy Joined them too cuz he didn’t want to tangle with Jingles again. They had a couple other hot skaters and a couple of weekend warriors about Bronzy’s age.<br /><br />Goalies switch ends about half through the skate, whereas the teams don’t during pickup. So each team had equal chance based on the goaltenders and their skills. I’m telling you that young kid was limber enough to bend like a pretzel and had one quick glove hand. The other guy has a reputation of being a brick wall. Just solid as a rock, plays the angles well and is no-go everywhere while he gets his body behind every shot. He’s also known for some dirty shit if ya plant your ass too near to the crease.<br /><br />He could cause some excitement later. Who knows.<br /><br />The other team had about four or five guys in their late twenties that I know had played juniors and were still good strong skaters. One of them, Zach, had my back in a bar fight a couple of years ago when my bros weren’t with me. It was against some cousins or associates of Tidwilly. Happened while he and the Wanker boys were in the slammer for jumping us Wheats out in the parking lot one night. So I figure that Zach can hold his own on the ice. They also had one big old bruiser that I wasn’t familiar with. Built like a freakin lumber jack – all shoulders and upper body. Had a kinda nasty little pirate look to him too – kinda reminded me of Wild Bill – for those of you that remember him. I guess this lumber jack of a dude was one of the other guys’ cousin and had come down from Hibbing for the summer. I heard him talking to his cousin and he had a French accent. I would have guessed that he was from somewhere north of Grand Mere in Quebec rather than a rust head from Hibbing. They also had a couple of The Nightmares skating for them and then some guys closer to Bronzy’s age filling in the rest.<br /><br />You look at the group out on the ice for the start of the game and it looks like a normal ragtag bunch of guys. No new gear standing out except on the young goalie and pairs of gloves here and there – mainly on the juniors you know. My guys are wearing white or light colored jerseys (some blood stains that didn’t wash out are dark brown spots and drips) and the other guys are wearing dark sweaters. Helmets are all required but face protection is an option. I generally don’t approve of cages unless all are wearing cages cuz they can be used as a weapon by going into another guys face. Oh well, there were only two on the ice tonight. Not gonna complain.<br /><br />Bronzy takes the puck and fires it into a far end corner to get the game under way.<br /><br />Game on boys! Let’s see what happens.<br /><br />Joshy is centering our first line with Bronzy on right wing. Some kid is on left, Jingles and some older dude are playing defense. Joshy forces the play coming out of the zone and the other kid gets beat coming out of the zone on the left boards. Bronzy sweeps back through the center while Jingles and his partner are backing up. The kid with the puck is one of the Nightmares and he likes to hot dog it a bit during pickup and forgets that he’s got teammates. Bronzy and Joshy focus on him as he dekes to his left and then straddles the blue line stopping at the point on the far boards, finally, waiting on his team mates. No checking, so he would have been glommed in a regular game at this point. He’s on Bronzy’s side of the ice so he takes the play and reaches for a sweep to take the puck away while Joshy backs off to pick up the guy breaking across the center. The dude pivots and rolls away from Bronzy and hits the third guy coming into the zone,<br /><br />Shit we look like a bunch of hacks out there getting beat right and left. Their right wing takes one stride with the puck and turns it into a give and go dropping a soft pass back to the first guy into the zone who one times it high over the net.<br /><br />Jingles’ partner pulls it in quick and circles behind the net with a quick pivot and comes back out the way he came in hitting our left wing on the half boards who then takes three hard strides out of the zone and hits Joshy who is crossing over center into the left lane. He goes in hard along the boards with an anchor on him the whole way going behind the net and backhands a sneek to Bronzy who tries a tip back at the net. No strength and their goalie, the young pup, covers it up.<br /><br />End to end! That pretty much defines pick up. Occasionally we’ll see the puck change hands in center ice, but that takes up too much energy and we’re all running long shifts. Not the best hockey in the world – but hell it’s probably the most fun next to pond hockey where you might have two on two or three on three and half your game is focused on not breaking an ankle on the bad ice. Right!<br /><br />Lines change and the lumber jack is on the ice now. He’s not fast but skates very protectively. Hadn’t noticed it before but he uses a short stick and because of that he skates all scrunched over with the puck underneath his tented body if he so desires. Very defensive offense if I say so myself. He’s strong in the corners and you don’t want to get in his way if he comes up the boards. Poke checking is about all you can do. During his first shift I never saw him make a forward pass. Just some drops as he used his body to clear a path for the follow-on guy. Interesting – a strategy that seemed to work well although he did get hit twice from behind with shots by his own team mates. Ouch!<br /><br />So far we were about twenty minutes in and nobody had gotten real pesky yet. Their goalie was stumping us totally and they only had scored twice on us. Once on a deflection on slapshot from the point and another five-hole tweeners from about twenty to twenty-five feet out.<br /><br />Only an hour long skate so in ten minutes we’d get the kid in our nets.<br /><br />The dude from Hibbing that was all shoulders had been coming up the boards every time so far until Jingles had stumbled on their blue line and fallen down right in front of him. The big old goose swept left of dipshit Jingles and continued straight up the ice towards our net. Luckily D-Pity was playing dee with Jingles and had already shifted further back to cover for a break out (that didn’t happen – just puck hogging, ehh) and was lining him up the whole way back into our zone. Finally someone from our bench yelled at Wayno to stop backing up and force the play.<br /><br />At that point Mr. Wayno D-Pity Studholm put on the breaks and planted himself like a small tree trunk and Mr. French accent lumber jack plowed right into him knocking him for loop continued to the net and smashed our goalie while shoving the puck into our net.<br /><br />Our goalie was back at him in a flash swinging his stick at his calves and then up in a second getting into his face with his blocker.<br /><br />D-Pity left his gloves right where his hands had landed on the ice and was up and jumping on the lumber jack from behind landing a right to the goon’s right jaw.<br /><br />Ole Frenchy lumber jack pushes the goalie back into the net with his left hand and use this same energy to rotate to his right back into D-Pity who completely missed with a left because of the move. He swung right and caught the top of lumber jacks helmet as he lowered his head and charged into D-Pity again.<br /><br />D-Pity jumped up a bit and grabbed the dude under the chin with his left forearm and wailed on his left cheek with is right.<br /><br />Everybody else had backed off now including our goalie.<br /><br />Stinky is yelling at me, “I’m getting this, I’m getting this! Are ya gonna zap him or what? Come on Jasper we gotta see if this works this time.”<br /><br />The choke hold on the dude from Hibbing plus Wayno’s pummeling is taking its toll. He drops a little lower trying to shake Wayno off while he’s grabbing Wayno’s jersey at the neck.<br /><br />The advantage is still Wayno’s so I figure that I better zap him. Left hand or right? Left hand I remember and I press the big button on the clicker.<br /><br />Wayno screams “Wooooooaaaa!” as his legs come out from under him and he starts to drop it seems like in slo-mo.<br /><br />Mr. Lumber jack had his hand touching the collar while grabbing D-Pity’s jersey and got a zap too pulling his hand back fast and faded to the ice slowly too.<br /><br />With that done everybody else on the ice made sure the shit was over and helped both skaters off of the ice.<br /><br />Stinky and I went down to interview them.<br /><br />Wayno was cool but still shaken up. He said that the damn Thug Zapper worked like a charm. Said it was like a massive spasm from his head to his toes and everything went loose. He thought he might have peed himself and that he’d better go check. Basically he pronounced it a success.<br /><br />Now Mr. Hibbing dude, that we found was named Stefan Boucher, was actually from Quebec originally but had been in Hibbing for only the last couple of years. Said that the hockey up there was great but you could only skate in the fall, winter and spring. He was very glad to get in a summer skate. Anyway, he said that he had felt the zap go up his arm and down one leg. He explained in his French accent that the muscles went all weak and his fingers felt like they had hyper-extended causing him to lose his grip on the jersey. Said that it was really something.<br /><br />Hmmm?<br /><br />By this time it’s now past the halfway point and time to trade ends for the goalies. The brick wall that was in our nets was a bit more than a little pissed off at Stefan but he’d calm down after he and his fellow netminder switch ends.<br /><br />We were down now four to one and were counting on the young kid in net to balance the scoring or maybe even tip the scales our way.<br /><br />Whoa dogs! I’m getting way off base here and sounding like I’m more concerned about the outcome of the pickup game than I am about our test of our Thug Zapper.<br /><br />In addition to interviewing D-Pity and Stefan about the physical results all of us involved pow-wowed for a few minutes off of the ice. Stinky ran back the video record for us all to watch and then we made a quick assessment.<br /><br />Had the first zap tonight on D-Pity not gone well then we probably would have called it a night and gone back to the drawing board so to speak. Bronzy hinted that it maybe worked too well and was now glad that he never made it into the NHL. Wasn’t looking forward to ever getting zapped. Stinky thought it looked great and commented on how quickly the fight stopped after I hit the clicker. It was less than a second he figured. Jingles was all pumped up and started talk techno-crap again and at that point I said, “Good. It works good. Or maybe even great. Now get back out there and see if we can get another trial zap or two yet before the skate is over. Wayno, can you handle another one if it comes to that?”<br /><br />“Shit yeah Jasper! I’m feeling just fine now. Let’s go guys!”<br /><br />Stinky and I climbed back up into the stands as play was already under way and the guys snuck back onto their bench.<br /><br />After about ten minutes into the goalie switch our side still hadn’t managed to score. Jingles at this point in time decided that instead of playing defense that he’d skate up.<br /><br />Now you guys know that have been following my stories that that brother of mine just sometimes acts like a complete fool lunatic when it comes to competitive endeavors. The years that I’ve played hockey with him I can vouch for that emphatically. So what’s he do on this first shift up on forward?<br /><br />PARKS HIS ASS IN THE SLOT AND STARTS ACTING LIKE SEAN AVERY IN FRONT OF SOME LONG TIME DEVILS GOALTENDER.<br /><br />(And don’t I just love the way Mr. Avery plays? Yes sirree!)<br /><br />Stinky is filming this and he whistles and yells, “Sweet, Jingles is getting ready to ring some bells!”<br /><br />I respond, “That stupid shit! He’s just gonna get his own bell rung!”<br /><br />He’s pestering the goalie big time and getting him ticked off – swinging his stick and jabbing the edge of his blocker at him.<br /><br />The puck’s still in their zone and Jingle’s turns back to us for an instant while Stinky has him zoomed in.<br /><br />“Oh Jasper, Jings has got his shark face smile on. Something’s going to happen soon.”<br /><br />“Keep the camera on him. I know what you mean. How many times have we seen that smile before? Right when all hell is about to break loose.”<br /><br />Old Stefan the lumber jack looking dude was pressing the play out closer to the blue line when he notices the shit that Jingles is pulling down in the slot. Before you know it he’s making a beeline to his own net.<br /><br />Jingles is back side to him as he clobbers him from behind with a full speed cross check. The jolt pushes Jingles straight into the goalie who has his blocker out aimed at Jingles’ jaw. All three bounce back across the cross bar which keeps them from falling over.<br /><br />Jingles pushes the goalie in the face using that as leverage to turn back into the guy that hit him from behind dropping his stick and gloves along the way.<br /><br />Stefan didn’t know what was coming as Jingles began pummeling his guts a few times which caused him to bend in towards Jingles at which time Jingles grabbed his jersey at the neck opening drops his own head to give Stefan nothing but helmet to swing at and began pounding rights just above where his left was holding the jersey. Yup, blind punching of one hand at the approximate location of your other hand – teach ya that in fight school boys.<br /><br />Jingles is just pounding this guys face. You couldn’t see his hand it was so fast – easy comparison to the dukes of a light weight instead of an overweight aged puckster.<br /><br />At that point I hit the button on the clicker in my right hand. Nothing happened.<br /><br />Then Stinky said, “Jasper I think you just dropped Wayno.”<br /><br />Oh fuck I must have changed hands with the clickers during our little pow-wow.<br /><br />I immediately hit the left clicker button.<br /><br />Jingles screams bloody murder and jumps about four feet straight up in the air. He drops completely lifeless looking. And the fight is over. Quick as shit!<br /><br />Success again I’m thinking. Yes!<br /><br />Stinky, at this point in time says, “Whoa, Wheats! I don’t think something’s right. It looks like the collar came off of Jings way before you zapped him. Let me run the video back.”<br /><br />He does real quick like and then does a computer enhanced zoom on the laptop that he’s connected to and sure enough you can see that when Jingles runs into the goalie’s blocker from the initial cross check, that the blocker hit’s Jingles in the neck and knocks the collar off.<br /><br />Well, what the fuck?<br /><br />At this point in time Jingles is moaning intensely while laying flat on the ice. I’m running down from the stands, opening a gate, jumping onto the ice and running over towards where my little brother is laying on the ice. I slide up to a stop while dropping on one knee and crash right into Jingles’ left knee and roll over him planting my right hand on his mid-section to try to keep my balance.<br /><br />He lets out another blood curdling scream, “Oh my fucking balls!!!”<br /><br />I immediately flash to the thought of the nuclear briefs. Jingle you didn’t? Oh no!<br /><br />I kneel over him and calmly ask, “You didn’t wear that wired jock strap did you? Please tell me you didn’t and that you’re only suffering a hernia or something.”<br /><br />He forces his shark smile back on his face and says “Yeah, the nut cracker. Ahh, ouch. I had to try it. Shit! I disabled the collar cuz I didn’t want you to know. Oh fuck does this hurt. But it did the trick didn’t it?”<br /><br />“Jingles, you are one fucking asshole. This is probably a major mistake on your part. We better get you to the hospital. Can you stand up?”<br /><br />“Whoa, I think so. Oh fuck me this hurts.”<br /><br />I yell for some help, “Couple of you guys help me get him up and skate him off the ice. I’ve got to get him to the ER.”<br /><br />He spent two days in the hospital. Somehow when he wired up this jock thing-a-ma-jigger he got the circuit wrong and instead of it being a high voltage low current shock he got a medium voltage but high current shock and it just about fried all of his equipment. The result being kind of a fried weenie sandwich.<br /><br />Thank goodness he had great medical insurance and a forgiving wife.<br /><br />He told me that he’d be using ‘Depends’ for a few of months and that if he could ever do the nasty again it would be via the benefit of some prescription little blue pills and some shit implant device that ya gotta pump up.<br /><br />Well right now he needs to concentrate on healing the burns. His catheter comes out in a couple of weeks. What a pisser.<br /><br />Yesterday we had another meeting at Jingles’ place to discuss the Thug Zapper some more.<br /><br />We came to the conclusion that it was a bust. We like fighting in the NHL. That’s that! Enough said.<br /><br />I’m calling Rup on Tuesday and telling him that Old Jasper Wheats and his crew couldn’t come up with any good ideas and that our best idea was for him to tell the NHL upper management dudes that we like fighting and if the superstars can’t handle that then may they really aren’t hockey super stars anyway.<br /><br />Oh by the way, I’ve included a photo (might be copyrighted – who knows? if the image doesn't come up try this link: <a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ZwJVLCm9TpJUAM:http://www.snopes.com/">http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ZwJVLCm9TpJUAM:http://www.snopes.com/</a>) that I lifted off the internet of some dude that pissed on an electric fence. The damage to his equipment is horrendous! Jingles’ was not quite this badly sizzled but it gives you an idea of just how bad it was. Poor guy! I hope that he can walk with wood again someday.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-73833829523537441542009-07-16T17:10:00.000-07:002009-07-16T17:18:03.937-07:00THUG ZAPPER (no. 4)THUG ZAPPER (no. 4)<br /><br />Yup, Jingles had been “testie number 1” on the ice with the zapping collar device. This is supposed to be our piece of miracle hockey gear to help the NHL, through Mr. Rup Iverson – Enforcement Technology Rep, control fighting.<br /><br />The NHL ran an unsuccessful test of their idea on some Oakland ice and we’ve run one less than successful test on our local ice up here in the back woods.<br /><br />Ehh?<br /><br />After closing the bar at the conclusion of our skate, Jingles had invited us all over for a barbeque at his place on the next Saturday afternoon. This was to be a good time but also a chance to troubleshoot and brainstorm possible improvements or changes to the idea we had already formulated and tested once.<br /><br />Families and all are gathered out at Jingles’ place. D-Pity brought his architect girlfriend and I got to meet her for the first time. Nice lady and as opposed to what the other guys had picked on him about, I found that she was mildly attractive and not the horse’s ass as I was led to believe. She and I chatted a bit about construction practices and the new “green” edicts that our government is tasking us with. She’s a firm believer in global warming and I had to take an opposing view recommending that she read some of my writings on the subject and my proposition that we’re getting reading for a shift of the polar axis. Yes, that the North Pole will be soon positioned just above the Mexican border near Del Rio, Texas. This she found absolutely hilarious but said that she’d try to find time to read my shit.<br /><br />Well, it was apparent that Jingles was running the show. He had two big old wash tubs just jammed packed with chipped ice and bottles of his home brew; tall necks. Yup! He had wine, iced tea, and a couple of coolers full of pops for the kids.<br /><br />He’s got a couple of redwood decks out in the back yard with one of them next to a big old above-ground pool with a ladder wide enough for two people to step into it or out of it at once. It was a nice hot humid day and the skeeters weren’t half bad. Jingles says that he uses some sort of high frequency speaker system, beyond the range that we can hear, to repel them fool bugs. Must work.<br /><br />At the other deck he’s got a built in six foot wide barbeque setup. And like I said earlier he was running the show. Flipping burgers, turning hotdogs and smoking ears of corn. Good shit! But I think he’d already had a handful of those brews before anyone got there because the pattern for flipping burgers kinda went: two on the grill and one on the deck. He’s a flipping fanatic. Damn sure his dogs ate well that afternoon. Stinky even gathered up some of the dirt burgers and took them back for his junkyard mutts.<br /><br />After we all sat around eating and doing the usual chat, yelling at the kids and helping clean up; Jingles lead us dudes down to his basement workshop.<br /><br />Smelled like a friggin brewery down there. He had two separate batches of his home brew fermenting in a couple of 5 gallon crocks under cover of some wet towels. He also had an old book case filled up with capped off long necks. Must a been a couple hundred bottles of beer sitting there on the shelves.<br /><br />D-Pity said, “Jingles, old buddy old pal, why are these delectable bottles of ale extraordinaire not being refrigerated? Ehh, you king of brew-meisters?”<br /><br />Damn, we’re all pretty cocked.<br /><br />Stinky added, “Yeah, Jings, you old fool, why aren’t these chillin? Not sure there are many left in the tubs out on your deck.”<br /><br />Jingles extends his hand at Stinky and curls his index finger a couple a times without saying a word and turns walking away from us around the bench into another little room.<br /><br />Shit, there’s two refrigerators and three more crocks. He opens one and it’s completely filled with brown bottles and he opens the other with equal contained capacity.<br /><br />“Damned, all right! That’s a lot of beer Mr. Wheats,” exclaimed D-Pity. “But, still why aren’t those others refrigerated?”<br /><br />Jingles, all proud of his beer making expertise explains, “I found that when I first started doing this, that I’d give a six pack or two away to somebody and they wouldn’t have room in their frig to put it all away. After a couple of days some of the bottles occasionally would burst. Sometimes, ya know, I bottle a little green and the yeast keeps working. Gets a little stronger but also makes a little more pressure and busts the bottles. I wasn’t happy that the beer I gave away went to waste so now I bottle it and let is sit at least a week before cooling it down. If the bottles are going to explode – at least most of the time it will happen here before I give it away.”<br /><br />I said, “I get it. But dab-nab if you don’t have a lot of beer here. Isn’t there some sort of legal limit on what your allowed to brew?”<br /><br />“Ahh, yeah,” Jingles gagged out, “but we don’t need to get into that. Come on back to the bench and let me show you guys what I worked on this week.”<br /><br />“Looks to me,” piped in Bronzy, “that all you had time to work on was brewing. And I shit for sure ain’t complaining none. Uh uh, not one bit.”<br /><br />Then he belched from the deepest regions of his gut and Stinky immediately followed by lifting a leg and ripped a fart that could have only been churned up from a perditious tomb of torment. We almost evacuated the workshop as Jingles pulled an overhead cord turning on a high velocity exhaust fan.<br /><br />“Got ya covered,” he whispered to Stinky. And then in a louder voice, “The wife made me put this in to keep the fragrances from permeating the livable regions of our humble domain. Either that or I had to quit making beer. Ha-ha! And you know where that would go. Ehh?”<br /><br />“Here. You guys check out these ideas I’ve got here on the bench. I amped up the original collar and also fixed up another one so that they will zap at a higher voltage. Both Ry-Ry and myself have tested it in the heat of staged but protracted arguments. I wouldn’t let Dilbert try it at this level. You know, he’s just a kid. But he sure wanted to again and he laughed his ass off watching what it did to both of us. He pushed the remote to do the zapping. Both times it just knocked us on our asses. Ry-Ry said it was fuckin intense. Called it quite the thug zapper. He said that’s what we ought to name it and that he’d check on whether that was already copyrighted. Said that he found something that might indicate it was assigned in Australia, but was part of a security system and we might be able to get away with it here in the US and Canada. He’s still doing research so we’ll see.”<br /><br />Jingles wasn’t slurring his words so much now and seemed to have sobered up some in the excitement of showing us these revisions to the design.<br /><br />D-Pity barked, “I like that, ‘Thug Zapper’. Maybe we could get Dave Shultz to endorse the suckers. Kinda like ‘bug zapper’ but more oomph to it. Tell Ry-Ry that I think that that’s the shit, ehh.”<br /><br />Stinky ripped another one and we all gagged for a bit while the fan cleared the air.<br /><br />“So anyway,” Jingles bragged, “we’ve got two of these now that I’ve fixed up and they’re tuned to about the same zapping output power. I think we should give them another try, maybe at the Nightmares’ practice again this week. I’ll wear one again but we need to get someone else to try it.”<br /><br />“I’m not so sure that we can legally get one of the kids to try it,” I stated. “Well, I mean we could probably talk a couple of them into trying it out but if they decided to sue afterwards for some stupid shit reason then we’d be toast. Ehh. It’s got to be one of us. You guys agree?”<br /><br />Bronzy dekes to the left and says, “I don’t know about that Jasper. I’ll be damned if I want to get zapped. I try to avoid fighting anyway – you know I get just as pissed as any other guy but I’m still just barely pushing one-sixty and that usually puts me on the losing end of any kinda physical altercation. Besides that, my pain threshold has never been on par with Jingles. Brother or not, he’s crazy and’s always been that way. Remember how he used to play ‘red zone’ and we’d try no nail that red tee shirt that he’d tuck into his shorts and hang in front of his nuts. Uhn-uh, no sirree, I don’t want to test one of those puppies out!”<br /><br />“Well fuck you dude. I’ll give it a try,” said D-Pity. “I’ve probably got twenty pounds on Jingles so maybe it will be more tolerable. Of course that isn’t what we want is it guys?”<br /><br />I responded, “No, no. It’s gotta knock a guy on his ass, without permanent or long lasting injury. You’re gonna want the guy to probably be fully recovered after serving five minutes though. Right? You guys agree? Right? But still it’s gotta break up the fight or Rup ain’t gonna be interested in it.”<br /><br />“So everybody agrees that we’ll try it again, the same scenario as last time but Jingles you and D-Pity both will be wearing a collar. I’m sorry guys, you’ll be wearing a ‘Thug Zapper’. OK?”<br /><br />“Sure, sure Jasper,” Jingles conclude. “You and Bronzy run the controls and camera. Stinky, I think you should play this time and help create the agitation. Ok. Just put on a prick attitude like you did that time when those guys were trying to steal shit from the junk yard. Ehh!”<br /><br />“Can do!”<br /><br />Well Jingles wasn’t done yet.<br /><br />“Just in case this doesn’t work,” he said, “I’ve got a back up device that I’m working on. Jasper, you remember those ‘nuclear briefs’ that you made for me as a Christmas present when I was a kid?”<br /><br />“Yeah. No way Jingles! You can’t charge up and zap a jock strap. Shit ass man! You might make someone sterile or toast their friggin dick. What the hell? After you use that and the trainer comes out to check on his fighter, what’s he gonna do stick his hand down the guy’s shorts and ask him how his package is doing? No way! Fucking no way!<br /><br />Mr. D-Pity – Wayno Studholm, is laughing his ass off. “Jingles, you’ve electrified some Bike or whatever brand of jock strap? Show us this crazy-ass crotch cradle. Will ya? I gotta see this thing.”<br /><br />Jingles opens up a shoe box on the bench and there the damn thing is. You could see wires woven into the ball sling and a battery pack with a remote receiver attached to the back of the waist band. A definite torture device if I ever saw one.<br /><br />Bronzy is moaning, “Oh shit, I ache already just thinking about that thing. Ohhhhh.”<br /><br />Jingles defends himself by stating, “Look you guys, it’s only a back up plan. I’m sure it will work. It’s detuned from the original dog collar that we tested, so it won’t be as strong a zap. But shit you guys. It’s gonna zap the most sensitive part of a player’s body. And if that won’t break up a fight than I don’t know what will. It’s only a back up. Ok? Ya know, only if these two don’t work. I thought you guys would think I had done my homework and would appreciate an alternate device. Who wants another beer?”<br /><br />He beered us all and we went upstairs and back outside. Jingles went over to the deck by the pool and jogged across it leaping and doing a cannon ball just missing Bronzy’s little girl, Chatisha. What a little sweetie but it scared the crap outta her and got him yelled at by just about everybody. <br /><br />Well, pucksters, somebody’s walking with wood and right now I’m not sure it’s any of us. There’s more to follow so as they used to say “Stay tuned folks!”Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-61184864063956353012009-06-23T13:35:00.000-07:002009-06-23T13:46:32.627-07:00THUG ZAPPER (no.3)Well, as usual nothing goes as planned.<br /><br />I originally wanted the Red Wings to win the Cup this year even though I picked the Bruins to take it all. Instead the Bruins fall by the wayside and I end up liking the way the Penguins play and hope that they take it all – which they did. Dem boys is walkin with wood! Ehh?<br /><br />Do I sound a little wishy-washy? Sure. Probably. But heck I’m a Kings fan and they weren’t anywhere near a playoff spot; so I figure that I’m entitled to cheer for anyone I want. Mainly though, I really, really enjoyed watching Pittsburgh play. For the most part, it’s like watching a whole team of Alex Ovechkins.<br /><br />His post season awards should help to appease the Caps fans. Tim Thomas’ Vezina and Chara’s Norris should appease the Bruins fans. And hopefully, but probably not, Datsyuk’s double wins will mollify the Red Wings devotees.<br /><br />But getting back to things “not as planned”, me and the boys didn’t get together on the following Saturday to discuss the zapping dog collar doodads. Too many interfering activities came up and it finally came down to all of us getting together at my cabin again for beer and pizza on Friday night, game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals. Bronzy brought fresh pizza from town this time so it was considerably better than the frozen cardboard pies that we had at the last meeting. It’s absolutely amazing what these small little differences make when you’re in your ninth month of unemployment and kinda living on the edge.<br /><br />Wayno Studholm, D-Pity, didn’t make it to our little gathering. He, the suck-buttin rich fool that he is, had gotten tickets to the game and was down in Detroit. We looked for him while watching the game but never saw anybody even closely resembling his sorry ass. Said he took his architect to the game and wrote it off as a business expense. I think the dude is finally saddled, but we’ll see.<br /><br />As last I explained, Jingles was going to stop by Stinky’s to pick up some salvage components and Bronzy was going to snag some returned garage door openers from his work. The major tasking since our last meeting was on Jingles to fiddle about with this stuff on his bench down in his basement.<br /><br />So when Jingles shows up, besides having a couple of sixers of his home-brew, he’s got a Dairyland milk crate full of zapping apparatuses. Seems as Bronzy had dropped off the garage door clickers sometime along the way and Jingles had kluged up a test sample with some documentation to back up his test results.<br /><br />We’re watching the game, munching the pizza and chugging the home-brew. That’s some good shit he brews up. I really like it. Jingles is trying to relax and enjoy the game but I can tell that he’s all amped up over the gear that he brought over. At the end of the first period he starts pulling stuff out of the milk crate, spreading it out on the floor and pulling paperwork out of folders.<br /><br />“Ok”, Jingles starts in explaining. “Of the stuff that Stinking gave me, only one collar was repairable and now functions. It will give a fairly good zap and runs on a nine volt battery. It will recharge for a secondary zap at around 70% initial strength in 5 seconds and about 50% for the third jolt in another 5 seconds. The testing that I did indicates that a full charge requires about 2 minutes connected to the battery. The zap is created by discharging a capacitor from a collapsing LC circuit.”<br /><br />Whatever the fuck that meant????<br /><br />He pulled out charts and calculations and I could tell he wanted to do an in-depth explanation. I had to nip that shit in the bud – right here and right now. <br /><br />“Good, good,” I said. “I knew you’d make some headway. How about the remote control?”<br /><br />“Right, Jasper. All of the remotes that Bronzy got me were repairable and I was able to get them all to work with a little dickering and a couple of component replacements. I went to the manufacturer’s website and got the transmit frequencies from the codes that were marked on them. They weren’t so revealing in how they tagged the frequency or applied the protocol for transmitting the commands to the receiver. I had to put the puppies on a digital scope, lock in the phase and then capture the signal when I pressed the buttons. I won’t get into the details,” he was definitely trying to keep from wetting his britches cuz he was getting so excited explaining this shit to us, “but anyway I got one system to work just fine. I had to spend a little money making a receiver/decoder that could trip the zapper. But it wasn’t bad.”<br /><br />“Hang on to your receipts so that you can get reimbursed,” I said. “How about your time? Did you keep track of that? Hey everybody, keep track of your time and your expenses that you spend on this. I want it all on the up and up. If this pans out then we’ll consider all of this as accrued business expense being reimbursable when we get funding. Plus it can help provide the data for developing a budget, schedules, etc. If Rup thinks that there’s a lot of money to be made at this then I want us to do it right.”<br /><br />That’s me, all business minded as opposed to Jingles being all tech’d out.<br /><br />Jingles starts telling us how he ran a little test at home using the zapper. He said that he had wrapped it around his calf, over the top of his jeans, and had his son Dilbert control the remote. He said he just walked around in the basement and told Dilbert to zap him unannounced.<br /><br />“This little sucker spasmed my calf and shot a jolt up into my hip area, I guess. I stumbled, while Dilbert started cracking up, and bounced off of the washing machine but didn’t completely fall. It worked pretty damn good, if I say so myself, even through my jeans.”<br /><br />“Well, why the hell didn’t you try it around your neck like it’s designed to be used, you stupid dumb-ass?” Bronzy piped in.<br /><br />Stinky added, “Yeah Jingles, what’s up with that? All your bench testing and shit and then you do a dry run on your calf? Sounds to me like some sort of wimp-ass test if you asked me.” Then he belched a wretchedly righteous burp. “Damn, you do brew some good beer though!”<br /><br />“Look you guys. I was just trying to be a little precautionary. I didn’t know what the final effect would be. You didn’t want me to fry my brain or something. Shit, you guys wouldn’t be able to continue development without me. Besides, I bet none of you would even have volunteered to test it on yourselves, calf, hah, not to speak of even on your own fool-ass scrawny necks!”<br /><br />“And Dilbert loved it. He laughed so hard he had to sit down on the floor to catch his breath. Then that little tike, that must have 100% plus of my DNA, said that I had to try it on him. Well I did, a couple of times, but I told him that he couldn’t ever tell his mom.”<br /><br />The second period started up and Bronzy told us to shut up and watch the game. Seems as though he had a bit of money riding on the outcome.<br /><br />A few minutes later while I’m beginning a long draw on my brew, Stinky yells, “Shit, Crosby’s gonna get a penalty for that!”<br /><br />I look over my bottle and see Crosby all over his opponent but instead of a whistle he gets spun at the same time and is just torqued into the boards something ugly. Due to the nocuous effect it had I commented that it looked like one of Jingles’ late hits from back ten years ago or so.<br /><br />Jingles of course defended himself saying those weren’t late hits, he was just applying what Biff taught him in Juniors. “Finish your check, take your man out!”<br /><br />“Right Jingles. You’re always trying to put somebody in the hospital,” Bronzy piped in.<br /><br />“I don’t care what you say, Jingles has always helped the team, playing the way he plays,” as Stinky defends Jingles. “You Wheats brothers each have your own special hockey skills that have added to our successes. Now I wonder what the fuck happened to Sid, play didn’t even stop. Those yack rappers said he was slow getting back to the bench. Shit there he is and looks like he’s in some kinda hurt.”<br /><br />“Big deal”, Bronzy snipped. “My money’s riding on the Wings.”<br /><br />I added, “Well I think he’s a great player. A hero for today and the great game of hockey. So I hope it’s nothing too serious.”<br /><br />The game continued through the period and we didn’t see Crosby on the ice again until the third. And even then he came off in pain.<br /><br />Jingles’ home brews ran out and we had now switched to the cheap commercial stuff that I buy at the market down in town. No-name, three-two. It tastes like beer and during the summer it sweats like beer. Didn’t really matter cuz Jingles’ home brew is probably on the upside of eight percent alcohol and three bottles each just about had us all knocked on our asses. Well, at least I was. You get used to three-two and I guess you just become a friggin light-weight. Ehh?<br /><br />The second period ended and for the life of me I can’t remember what the score was. I mean, I know the Pens won 2 to 1. But for the life of me, I can’t tell you much else about the game from somewhere in the middle of the second period on. Just seemed like they shook hands afterwards really quickly. “Yeah, let’s get to the Cup!”<br /><br />But I do remember that we talked about the zappers again and Jingles told us how it went when he zapped Dilbert.<br /><br />Dilbert’s big into Legos and told his dad to zap him the first time while he was laying on the floor setting up some sort of battlefield. Zapped him and he spasmed and the Legos went flying everywhere. He got up to the couch and laughed hard telling Jingles to do it again. Told him to zap him while he was looking at a magazine on the couch but to try it around his waist this time instead of his calf.<br /><br />Jingles said that Dilbert tried to act like he didn’t know it was coming but was giggling the whole time. When he hit the button on the remote, Dilbert arched his back and lifted off the couch about six or eight inches. Ripped the magazine in half and pissed his pants. Again he stated laughing and said to his dad to do it again.<br /><br />Jingles was a little concerned, especially because of the uncontrolled urination, and decided that it was enough and reiterated to Dilbert to not tell his mom a thing.<br /><br />We discussed a game plan and decided that we had lost a couple of weeks of schedule time and that we should try the zapper in a game environment at pickup the next night, Saturday. It was actually the continuation of the Nightmares’ off season practice schedule but was pretty much open Ice and a lot of those kids and the Outlaws come out to skate. Jingles decided that he’d wear the collar, as intended, around his neck and I’d sit in the stands with the remote and Stinky would videotape with the microphone on me doing narration of what’s happening on the ice.<br /><br />To try to get Jingles really riled, after the teams were picked up for the evening skate, I talked to the guys on the opposing team. I explained to them that we were testing something that Jingles’ psychiatrist had prescribed and we really needed them to push him around, talk in his face, etc. and really rile him up. Since Jingles was gonna being playing defense I said the best bet was to park in the slot and then talk some shit. “Tell him he skates like a jackass and that he should stay off the ice – he’s just wasting some good ice time.”<br /><br />That ought to get him all jacked up. He’s never been one that was slow to drop the gloves and talk the shit real good himself. This should work out real good if the zapper does as promised.<br /><br />The skate was pretty good. The kids from the Nightmares looked really hot. The season had been good for them and they were playing with intensity. Jingles was getting beat pretty good in neutral ice during the start but later started backing up sooner and was giving them more ice but able to take the guys out pretty good in the slot. One long legged forward, Joshy, had taken my advice to heart and was regularly parked just outside the crease whenever they came into the zone. Jingles was working him pretty good – cross checking and putting his stick between his legs and shit like that.<br /><br />I could see that Joshy was talking trash at him most of the time too.<br /><br />It must have been about twenty minutes in or so when Jingles turned away from Joshy to watch a guy coming out of the corner when Joshy gave Jingles a shove from behind while hooking his left leg. Jingles went down and was up in flash back into Joshy’s face. Joshy shoved him away again and Jingles gloves went flying. Joshy’s fell to the ice like feathers in the wind but grabbed Jingles’ jersey before they hit the ice and was already letting go with a roundhouse. Jingles ducked back his head while swinging to Joshy’s gut with one hand and knocking his helmet off with the other.<br /><br />Joshy is torpedoing on Jingles’ face with his rights. And Jingles is now getting in close applying his old wrestling moves now to stifle the punches. He drops a little bit and grabs Joshy with a bear hug – picking hip up off the ice. <br /><br />Joshy is now two handing the back of Jingles’s helmet and neck but can’t dislodge the bucket.<br /><br />I’m watching all this and talking into the microphone as Stinky is videotaping.<br /><br />“Zoom in Paul! I’m going to zap him in just a sec!”<br /><br />Everybody is letting them go – nobody is trying to break it up. I’ve got some open ice between us and them so I push the button on the remote.<br /><br />Jingles lets out a retching sound like the combination of a cat’s growl and the howl of a yeti. A couple of Joshy’s teammates move in closer now and Jingles hasn’t dropped yet. I count out loud, “One, two, three, four, five,” and press the remote again. In the meantime Jingles’ helmet had been knocked off and one more guy had managed to grab his jersey and Jingles had spun around into the crease. I don’t know where the goalie had moved off to but the zap hit Jingles again. That same freakish scream echoed in the rink.<br /><br />Jingles flinched by picking up Joshy all the way over his head and pitched him over the net like he was just a ten pound bag of potatoes. He growled some more and got in the other guys face and you could hear him scream, “You want some too?”<br /><br />I can hear Stinky quietly saying “Oh fuck, oh muther fuck. Jingles is unglued. Oh fuck.”<br /><br />I said to Stinky, “Did you get all that?”<br /><br />“Yeah, yeah. You know Jasper, I don’t think this worked. Not one fucking bit. I think it just juiced Jingles up even more. I hope that kid is ok.”<br /><br />In the mean time everybody backed away from Jingles and about then Bronzy jumped over the boards and was skating up to the mess telling Jingles to calm down.<br /><br />It took a few moments and everything got back to normal. Joshy was ok and Jingles skated over to the gate and climbed up into the seats and sat down next to me. You could hear some of the guys on the ice saying that whatever the shrink had given Jingles it wasn’t strong enough.<br /><br />“Jasper, I don’t think this works,” Jingles whispered to me in a raspy voice. “I felt two zaps pretty good. Did you try a third? All they did was make me madder and amped me up pretty good. I think we’re going to have to go back to the drawing board. Ehh?”<br /><br />“No I didn’t try the third time. Things were pretty much over by then. Everybody backed away when you tossed him. How’d it feel? How are you feeling now?” I asked.<br /><br />He whispered again, “It’s a pretty good jolt. Both times. But it just seemed to instantaneously pump me up with adrenaline. I went Hulk on that dude, Jasper. I mean hair-brained Hulk on him! I hope he’s ok. Yeah, and I feel pretty exhausted right now – kinda winded, but it’s coming back ok. Paul, I’ve got to see the video.”<br /><br />Paul played it back on the camera’s little screen and Jingles just kept saying “Oh shit! Shit! What a mess.”<br /><br />We let the guys finish their skate. Jingles didn’t think it would a good idea to go back out with them, though he was feeling ok, so he went to shower and changed. <br /><br />After the skate we went over to the bar where Bronzy joined us.<br /><br />“Shit!” Bronzy exclaimed as we sat down at a table. “Jingles you went absolutely berserk out there! Reminds me of the time when I was kid around Christmas time and Jasper picked me up and threw me into the junipers over at Mom and Dad’s. The zapper didn’t seem to stifle you at all. Did you feel it?”<br /><br />“Oh yeah, I felt it alright. It just got me more pumped rather than debilitating. I think we’re going to have to rethink this thing. In an idle mode it probably does what we want but when you’re already juiced up and getting ready to dance it just seems to invigorate you even more.”<br /><br />We pounded some more beers and closed the place. But before we left I said that I wanted everybody to think about this and come up with some more ideas. We’d meet again next Saturday afternoon. Jingles said he’d throw a barbeque so bring the families.<br /><br />Well, as you can see – this is to be continued. It doesn’t seem to be ironed out yet. I hope that we can figure something out that works. Something that we can show to Rup within the month. It’d be nice to have something in “production” in time for next season.<br /><br />Hope that all of you are walking with wood – I sure figure that Jingles is. But damn he’s always been a little crazier then the rest of us and I’ve got to give him credit for being the testie.<br /><br />Later dudes and dudettes. Skate hard!<br /><br />To be continued ….Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-63109659556320590542009-05-17T10:09:00.000-07:002009-05-17T10:17:08.670-07:00THUG ZAPPER (No. 2)I’ve been back from my job search trip to the west coast now for almost a month. A lot has been happening aside from the Stanley Cup Playoffs.<br /><br />I’m being kinda apologetic here – but I didn’t do so well on my picks for the winners in the first round. I only got right five outta the eight teams advancing. Damn shame about those Sharks, ehh. They just fell apart again. Tough luck, boys. Ha, ha!<br /><br />I really don’t want to re-pick teams again to come out of the second round but I will anyway. So here ya go:<br /><br />Penguins over the Capitals<br />Bruins over the Hurricanes<br />Blackhawks over the Canucks<br />Redwings over the Ducks<br /><br />I’ve got to tell you that I have really enjoyed watching the superstars play in the Pens/Caps series. Oh to be young again.<br /><br />So I’m here home again in the back woods and have spent just a lot of time dwelling on what I saw in Oakland and the business that Rup said about there being a lot of money in the control of fights. But, I’ll tell you guys, I don’t think to highly of zapping players – but money is money – and my slow poke mush for brain has been working overtime. Shit for dooty if during the flight home I didn’t even look at one of the airline magazines. I was making notes and drawing sketches instaed. Just trying to think about the whole big picture. And damn, could I make some money off of this latest control exercise that the NHL wants to institute? Yepper, my oatmeal was steaming.<br /><br />I got back to the cabin and spent some time explaining the situation and possible ideas about it to my honey. I know she listens to me out of the goodness of her heart even though her heart usually isn’t into the things I do.<br /><br />She gives me hug and I give her a squeeze and a passionate kiss – cuz I truly had missed her and she does bring me back to earth on the rare occasion that I drift way over the boards.<br /><br />“Jasper, every time you go away you come back home with another hair-brained idea. I’m beginning to think that you’re more likely related to Stinky than you are to Jingles and Bronzy. You ought to bounce these ideas of yours off of some experts before you burn up anymore of your time. And you know that’s my time too.” She smiled up at me and I kissed her again.<br /><br /><em>(Author’s note: Moving on past that two hour interruption and getting back at my writing here I need to input an update. Chicago eliminated Vancouver and is the first team to move on to the third round. So … that makes one of four picks right so far. I’m feeling good!)<br /></em><br />Taking the honey’s advice I placed some phone calls to Jingles, D-Pity, Stinky and Bronzy to set up an evening meeting. I didn’t tell them much, just said that we could watch a game, have some pizza, drink some beers and talk about an idea that I have.<br /><br />Everybody showed with a six pack and the honey put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven for us then she left for her sister’s. She set a timer and I told the guys that we’re living on a budget so the frozen pies would have to do. Nobody complained, but Bronzy said he could of picked up something fresh in town if he’d known that I was serving non-apetit.<br /><br />I laughed at that, showed him my gut, and said “Here’s non-apetit for ya!”<br /><br />“Oh gee Jasp, put that thing away before we all gag a rag,” he laughed back as Jingles’ beer went out his nose.<br /><br />Stinky stood up and stretched his arms back and pushing his substantial girth forward and boasted “You Wheats boys don’t have shit. Ya ain’t even ready for the wars.”<br /><br />“Well frozen or not, it’s gonna beat the cooking I’ve been doing lately,” stated D-Pity. “Seems as though all I’ve had for the past month has been cold cereal and microwaved garbage. I hardly have time to sit down – so busy getting my place in shape and getting that rink planned and stuff.”<br /><br />Jingles cleared his throat after coughing and such and asked “Yeah, how’s that going Wayno?”<br /><br />“Ah shit, it’s just a lot of work. Working with engineers, architects and all that crap. But the worst is the county. My property is zoned for agricultural use only. They want me to jump through just too damn many hoops. There’s times that I think maybe I should give up on it there and find another piece of commercial property to buy. Ya know though, I just want it in my backyard. Kinda like going out to the pond. Ah shit we’ll see. “<br /><br />The game got going and the buzzer went off so I pulled out the pizzas and sliced them with a kitchen scissors and brought ‘em out for our munch-a-bunch. I rightly can’t remember which game we were watching. Seems as though it was Vancouver versus St. Louis because none of us were too excited about who ended up winning or losing.<br /><br />Jingles, between bites, led off with “So Jasper what’s this idea that ya want to go over? Is it about the Nightmares or Crossed Stick Society or what? We all saw your sweetie leave so I’ve got to figure it’s hair-brained because she’s learned over the years to avoid listening to your whimsical plans. Shit she doesn’t believe in you until you’ve gotten something finally done. Ha, ha!”<br /><br />“Give me a break, damn she went to her sister’s for Pete’s sake.”<br /><br />“Nah, she always leaves now when we get together to build something Wheats. You know that,” laughed Stinky. “I sometimes think that maybe she doesn’t like me, but Jingles has got a point.”<br /><br />“Yeah, so what’s up?” Bronzy asks through a mouthful of pizza.<br /><br />So I told them about my last trip to the west coast. And how I had stopped at the Oakland rink; seeing the trials for the taser fight stopping apparatus that the NHL had thrown together. I expressed my opinion and told them how I had chucked my cookies when the referee had accidently tasered himself. Then I pulled out Rup’s business card and said “He said there’s a lot of money in this and if I came up with something that works better, to go ahead and get a hold of him.”<br /><br />“Do you guys see an opportunity here? I walked in on something that most of the sports world isn’t privy to. I don’t like seeing guys getting zapped but maybe we could make a bundle if we came up with something that worked and was fool proof. Jingles, you’re kind of an electronic genius. Bronzy bro, you work at Graingers and could get a discount on hardware. Paul, you know how to kluge things together better than anyone I know, plus you have access to all kinds of strange but useful shit out at the salvage yard. And Wayno, you’ve got connections in the business world and possibly some funding if ya buy into this.”<br /><br />“Wait a minute Jasper. Did you guys see that?” Wayno – D-Pity quizzed. “I really like the fact that Versus is covering hockey, but sheesh, when they display these banners, the only thing I can figure out is the cameraman can’t see the banner because SO damned often, like just now, the banner is covering up where the puck is being played. It drives me absolutely nuts.”<br /><br />Jingles responded, “Well shitaroo, but cable over in my neck of the woods doesn’t even carry Versus so this is a sweet treat for me. Reminds me of the old days when you used to come over to watch the games on scrambled networks at my old place down in the cities about twenty years ago. Ehh, Jasper?”<br /><br />“Jingles you ought to come up with some kinda filter that could be added to the cable box to zing out ads and shit,” piped in Bronzy.<br /><br />I added my own comment, “Yeah, I find the banners irritating too. And I think you’re right, the cameraman must not be seeing it. Ha-ha Jingles. I remember those days. Good times when we both lived down in the cities. Remember that time I was over and Ry-Ry was digging up carpet raisins and eating them?”<br /><br />Jingles blew beer through his snout again. “Yeah and that carpet was, like, the color of raisins too. I don’t know how he could find them. French fries were easy, remember?”<br /><br />“Yeah,” I chuckled, “good times. And to think you’ve got that kid in law school now. Shit, that’s something, ehh!”<br /><br />“So, you guys, back to my idea.”<br /><br /><em>(Author’s note: This thing is taking me days to write and the second round of the playoffs is now over. Pittsburgh’s going to play Carolina for the Eastern Championship and Chicago is going to play Detroit for the Western Championship. So I didn’t expect the Canes to move on and I guess I was wrong about this being the Bruins year. Oh well, there’s always next year. That’s what I keep saying about the Kings.)<br /></em><br />“Here’s kinda what I’m thinking. We use something like a dog training collar. Everybody on the ice wears one and each is programmed to a different frequency. The zapping is controlled from a panel run by somebody in the scorekeepers box. It’s gotta be better than using a taser type device. Dang that was nasty seeing that ref zap himself. What do you guys think? We could test it in a scrimmage up here. Get it perfected before we contact the NHL, you know.”<br /><br />“So I’m thinking on the financial side of a trial or test or whatever ya want to call it,” D-Pity started us off. “You’re talking about thirty to forty collars depending on how big a bench you’re running for each side. Then you’ve got the control system. How much money you think we’re talking about to start with?”<br /><br />“Well, I haven’t really figured that out on that big of a scale first off,” I responded. “I need you guys to brainstorm for some ideas on the cheap. Ok?”<br /><br />Stinky hollered, “Well cripes Jasper, yank some more beers out the fridge. Hey! I’ll be able to think a lot better after I have a couple a more.”<br /><br />I got up and went to the fridge and grabbed another cold one for each of us. There was still a bit of pizza left but grabbed another bag of chips from the cupboard too,<br /><br />Stinky took his beer, popped the top and downed it in about three gulps without losing a drop. “Jasper, I think I’ve got a couple of torn up remote dog training collars hanging off a nail in one of my sheds. I don’t know if they work or nothing. And I don’t have the trainer’s controls for them.”<br /><br />“Good, Paul. That’s a start of what I’m thinking for our first trial” as I tried to act like the facilitator. “Keep it on a shoestring. Jingles, you think of any way that these could be used without their original controls? I mean, if they even work.”<br /><br />“Well, we’d have to get fresh batteries and power them up to see if they work. They probably have a local control switch for testing,” Jingles was analyzing the idea – I could tell. “I could put a digital scope on them and check them out. It might be difficult to determine what their receiving frequency is though. I’d need that to make the control transmitters. You know each has gotta have a separate operating frequency or this whole idea’s no good.”<br /><br />Bronzy interjects, “They might be like garage door openers and the frequency is coded inside the receiver or dog zapper housing. If so then all you have to do is go back to the manufacturer’s website and you can probably find the frequency.”<br /><br />“You know, you’re probably right, Bronzy,” Wayno piped in. “I think I’ve seen those codes myself on garage door openers and keyless car lock systems. This is a sweet idea. I like it.”<br /><br />“Yeah Wayno, talking about sweet. Who was that lady you were with at the bar after the last time you played with us? Ehh?” Bronzy quipped.<br /><br />Jingles added his two bits, “Yeah D-Pity old buddy old pal. Speaking of dogs, who was she?”<br /><br />Defending himself, Wayno the D-Pity whines back,“Come on guys, she wasn’t that bad. Was she? She’s one of the architects I’ve been working with. She was up here doing a site walk and then talking to the county for me.”<br /><br />I had to ask, “What did she look like you guys? Was that all there was to it?”<br /><br />“They were swapping spit back in the corner booth after a while,” Stinky started filling in the blanks. “Didn’t think old Wayno was that desperate.”<br /><br />“No, no, no. She’s hot, Jasper. I’m telling you. We hooked up down in Florida last February and it wasn’t half bad,” Wayno explained.<br /><br />Jingles gave me the real shit about it though. “Ha, ha, ha! Jasper, remember Bif’s description of Tone’s girl friend? Yup! This ‘lady’ that D-Pity was with was just about as handsome as a can of smashed assholes.”<br /><br />“No way! Don’t tell me. You guys are gonna make me waste some good beer here,” I laughed. “Wayno, you old dog, you’ve got absolutely no tastes when it comes to the honeys. Shit let’s get back to the collars, ehh.”<br /><br />“Jasper,” Jingles starts in and burps a righteous good belch, “you know, we could probably use garage door opener remotes to control the dog collars. I could modify their outputs to be on the same frequency as the collars’ electronics. I think it would work.”<br /><br />Bronzy stated that he was pretty sure there were some returned remotes back at the store that he could dispose of. Of course Jingles would have to fix them first. And Stinky said that he knew that he had some that worked but they were about the size of a deck of cards. They weren’t new small ones.<br /><br />I told everybody that for a test of the idea, the size of the equipment isn’t going to matter too much.<br /><br />“You know, you guys, we’ve got to test this thing out and then refine it. Can all of you gather up what you need and we’ll meet again next Saturday. Jingles will have the hard part but maybe he’ll be able to show us how to help. The priority is that If the collars don’t work or can’t be fixed then we’ll have to buy a couple of new ones. There’s no point in working on the other shit if the collars don’t zap or can’t be controlled remotely.” I closed the major discussion with, “You guys are all in on this then, right? If it works, then like Rup indicated, we could be in the money. Shit we’ll be walking with wood boys. Right up there with Nike/Bauer, Cooper and the other big boys in hockey gear.”<br /><br />Jingles said that he’d stop by Stinky’s yard on the way home and find some spare time during the week to start troubleshooting the collars and fixing them if he could.<br /><br />We let our minds wander a bit while we watched the rest of the game. Most of us, I think, were chewing on the Canucks asses through the whole thing.<br /><br />So next Saturday, we move on.<br /><br />To be continued in the Thug Zapper (no.3)<br /><br />Jasper here, Catch you then.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-44923738019513922612009-04-26T10:31:00.000-07:002009-04-26T10:35:38.575-07:00MAKING THE JUNIORS - REVISEDThis is going to be a little different than most of my other blogs. It’s still hockey but it’s not a humorous short story. Rather it’s informative because lately I’ve been requested by my friends at myspace to provide some input on tryouts for Junior A teams.<br /><br />First of all, I need to clarify that I’m not affiliated with any “real” junior hockey team. The Norris Nightmares are a fictitious junior team that I sometimes write about. The Outlaws are a real team that plays in a men’s/senior beer league but I often horse up what I write about them. In the day, they played two seasons in semi-pro leagues where I coached them to winning seasons but never, unfortunately, champions (Runners up – but who remembers that shit, ehh?) as we had been for several seasons when I still played with them.<br /><br />So for those of you that have asked about junior hockey teams I have composed a list that I extracted from the USA Hockey website. To reiterate, I also, at this time have no affiliation with USA Hockey. I have been a registered player and coach, but again that was in the day. Those of you that are willing to do more with your computer than dangle on myspace can google this information yourself. I have googled the heck out of the list since the first time I published this on myspace and have now included website addresses and the team’s resident city. As a matter of fact I don’t include any details about teams and tryouts and highly recommend that you do further investigations on your own and do them soon because signups are going on and tryouts will be this summer. Each team has it’s own website but I can’t vouch for any of these teams continuing operation into the 2009-2010 season. You’ll have to determine that. Additionally, I want to emphasize that USA Hockey’s junior leagues are developmental leagues. In many cases you can’t advance from Junior C to Junior B (or B to A, or Tier-II A to Tier-I A, etc) without invitation and even then, exceptional success in tryouts.<br /><br />Ok, so you love hockey, but you don’t play and you don’t have easy access to see a live NHL games other than on TV. Well these Junior teams may be playing a lot closer to home, and I’ve got to tell you – its some damn good hockey. Look-them up. They may be in playoffs right now and as much as you’d enjoy the game, these teams could use your support.<br /><br />The listing is only for USA Hockey Junior Teams. Canada and other nations have their own junior leagues and you should also investigate those. Many of you have been playing Midgets and now are looking for a place to continue your quest at a higher and older aged competitive level. You might even want to start thinking about this if you’re still playing Bantams. I don’t want to, in anyway, discount the great high school programs that many states have nor the terrific teams that the NCAA ices at the college levels. In the day, Tier-I Junior A was the only way into the NHL. That is not the case so much today. I’m not sure what the rules are these days but in my day if you played scholastic sports you were not allowed to be on club teams additionally nor were you even allowed to be coached out of season. “Oh my, how things have changed!” to quote my honey, Mrs. Wheats. Ehh?<br /><br />You’ll notice that some clubs ice teams at various levels and in various leagues.<br /><br />So here we go starting with three leagues and their teams in Tier-III, Junior C:<br /><br />Southeast Junior Hockey League: <a href="http://www.sejhl.net/">www.sejhl.net</a> <br />Atlanta Knights – <a href="http://www.atlantajuniorknights.com/">www.atlantajuniorknights.com</a> – Atlanta, GA<br />Charleston Wolverines – <a href="http://www.wolverinesjunior.org/">www.wolverinesjunior.org</a> – Charleston, SC<br />East Coast Eagle Major – <a href="http://www.eaglesjrhockey.com/">www.eaglesjrhockey.com</a> – Cary, NC<br />East Coast Eagle Minor – <a href="http://www.eaglesjrhockey.com/">www.eaglesjrhockey.com</a> – Cary, NC<br />Hampton Roads Whalers Major – <a href="http://www.jrwhalers.com/">www.jrwhalers.com</a> – Chesapeake, VA<br />Hampton Roads Whalers Minor – <a href="http://www.jrwhalers.com/">www.jrwhalers.com</a> – Chesapeake, VA<br />Space Coast Hurricanes – <a href="http://www.juniorhurricanes.com/">www.juniorhurricanes.com</a> – Rockledge, FL<br />Tampa Bay Bolts – <a href="http://www.tampabayjrbolts.com/">www.tampabayjrbolts.com</a> – Tampa, FL<br /><br />Great Lakes Junior Hockey League: <a href="http://www.gljhl.com/">www.gljhl.com</a><br /><br />Motor City Chiefs – <a href="http://www.chiefsjrhockeyclub.com/">www.chiefsjrhockeyclub.com</a> – Farmington Hills, MI<br />Michigan Ice Dogs – <a href="http://www.michicedogs.com/">www.michicedogs.com</a> – Plymouth, MI<br />Michigan Mountain Cats – <a href="http://www.michiganmountaincatsjuniorhockey.com/">www.michiganmountaincatsjuniorhockey.com</a> – Grand Blanc, MI<br />Tri-City Ice Hawks – <a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=tchawks&s=hockey&t=c">www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=tchawks&s=hockey&t=c</a> – Midland, MI<br />Illinois Frontenacs – <a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=illinoisfrontenacs=hockey&t=c">www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=illinoisfrontenacs=hockey&t=c</a> – Fairview Heights, IL<br />Danville Inferno – <a href="http://www.danvilleinferno.com/">www.danvilleinferno.com</a> – Danville, IL<br />Jr. Huskies – <a href="http://www.huskieshockeyclub.com/">www.huskieshockeyclub.com</a> – Romeoville, IL<br /><br />Continental Hockey Association – Selects: <a href="http://www.jrhockey.net/">www.jrhockey.net</a><br /><br />Buffalo Stars – <a href="http://www.buffalostars.com/">www.buffalostars.com</a> – Cheektowaga, NY<br />Jersey Wildcats – <a href="http://www.jerseywildcats.com/">www.jerseywildcats.com</a> – Wharton, NJ<br />Jr. Predators – <a href="http://www.juniorpreditors.org/">www.juniorpreditors.org</a> – Long Island, NY (area)<br />Metro Fighting Moose – <a href="http://www.metromoose.com/">www.metromoose.com</a> – Brooklyn, NY<br />Philadelphia Jr. Blazers – <a href="http://www.juniorpatriots.com/">www.juniorpatriots.com</a> – Bethlehem, PA<br />Pittsburgh Jr. Penguins – <a href="http://www.juniorpenguinns.com/">www.juniorpenguinns.com</a> – Pittsburgh, PA<br />Tri State Selects – <a href="http://www.tristateselects.com/">www.tristateselects.com</a> – Oaks, PA<br />Virginia Express – <a href="http://www.virginiaexpress.org/">www.virginiaexpress.org</a> – Woodbridge, VA<br /><br />And here are the leagues and teams from Tier-III, Junior B:<br /><br />Metropolitan Junior Hockey League: <a href="http://www.metleague.org/">www.metleague.org</a><br /><br />Atlanta Knights - <a href="http://www.atlantajuniorknights.com/">www.atlantajuniorknights.com</a> – Atlanta, GA<br />Binghamton Jr. Senators – <a href="http://www.binghamptonjrsenators.com/">www.binghamptonjrsenators.com</a> – Chenango Bridge, NY<br />Central Penn Panthers – <a href="http://www.pennpanthers.org/">www.pennpanthers.org</a> – Lancaster, PA<br />Charleston Wolverines - <a href="http://www.wolverinesjunior.org/">www.wolverinesjunior.org</a> – Charleston, SC<br />East Coast Eagles - <a href="http://www.eaglesjrhockey.com/">www.eaglesjrhockey.com</a> – Cary, NC<br />Florida Eels – <a href="http://www.floridaeels.org/">www.floridaeels.org</a> – Fort Myers, FL<br />Hampton Roads Jr. Whalers - <a href="http://www.jrwhalers.com/">www.jrwhalers.com</a> – Chesapeake, VA<br />Hartford Jr. Wolfpack – <a href="http://www.jrwolfpack.com/">www.jrwolfpack.com</a> – Cromwell, CT<br />Jacksonville Ice Dogs – <a href="http://www.jaxicedogs.com/">www.jaxicedogs.com</a> – Jacksonville, FL<br />Junior Titans – <a href="http://www.jrtitans.com/">www.jrtitans.com</a> – Farmingdale, NJ<br />Long Island Royals – <a href="http://www.liroyalsjrs.com/">www.liroyalsjrs.com</a> – Syosset, NY<br />New Jersey Rockets – <a href="http://www.njrockets.goalline.ca/">www.njrockets.goalline.ca</a> – Newark, NJ<br />New York Saints – see <a href="http://www.atlantichockey.org/">www.atlantichockey.org</a> – Monsey, NY<br />NJ Renegades – <a href="http://www.njrenegades.net/">www.njrenegades.net</a> – Flemington, NJ<br />North Jersey Avalanche – <a href="http://www.njavalanche.com/">www.njavalanche.com</a> – Hackensack, NJ<br />Northern Cyclones – <a href="http://www.northerncyclones.com/">www.northerncyclones.com</a> – Hudson, NJ<br />Philadelphia Little Flyers – <a href="http://www.littleflyers.org/">www.littleflyers.org</a> – Aston, PA<br />Philadelphia Jr. Flyers – <a href="http://www.iceline.info/Flyers/default.htm">www.iceline.info/Flyers/default.htm</a> - West Chester, PA<br />Portland Jr. Pirates – <a href="http://www.jrpirates.pucksystems2.com/">www.jrpirates.pucksystems2.com</a> – Saco, ME<br />Space Coast Jr. Hurricanes - <a href="http://www.juniorhurricanes.com/">www.juniorhurricanes.com</a> – Rockledge, FL<br />Suffolk PAL – <a href="http://www.palicehockey.com/">www.palicehockey.com</a> – Hauppauge, NY<br />Tampa Bay Bolts - <a href="http://www.tampabayjrbolts.com/">www.tampabayjrbolts.com</a> – Tampa, FL<br />Team Carolina – <a href="http://www.usahockey.com/team_carolina">www.usahockey.com/team_carolina</a> - Indian Trail, NC<br />Troy Eagles – <a href="http://www.troyeagles.com/">www.troyeagles.com</a> – Troy, NY<br />Valley Forge Minutemen – <a href="http://www.oakscenterice.com/vfmmjuniors/index.htm">www.oakscenterice.com/vfmmjuniors/index.htm</a> - Oaks, PA<br />Walpole Express – <a href="http://www.walpoleexpress.com/">www.walpoleexpress.com</a> – Walpole, MA<br /><br />Empire Junior Hockey League: - www.empirehockey.com<br /><br />Apple Core Minor Jr. B – <a href="http://www.applecorejunior.com/">www.applecorejunior.com</a> – Long Beach, NY<br />Bay State Breakers – <a href="http://www.baystatebreakers.com/">www.baystatebreakers.com</a> – Rockland, MA<br />Boston Jr. Bruins – <a href="http://www.bostonjuniorbruins.com/">www.bostonjuniorbruins.com</a> – Framingham, MA<br />Brewster Bulldogs – <a href="http://www.brewsterjuniorbulldogs.com/">www.brewsterjuniorbulldogs.com</a> – Brewster, NY<br />Bridgewater Bandits – <a href="http://www.bridgewaterbandits.com/">www.bridgewaterbandits.com</a> – Bridgewater, MA<br />Buffalo Stars - <a href="http://www.buffalostars.com/">www.buffalostars.com</a> – Cheektowaga, NY<br />Capital District Selects Minor Jr. B – <a href="http://www.cdselects.com/">www.cdselects.com</a> Troy, NY<br />Elmira Jr. Jackals – <a href="http://www.jrjackals.com/">www.jrjackals.com</a> – Elmira, NY<br />Fitchburg NE Huskies – <a href="http://www.jrhuskies.com/">www.jrhuskies.com</a> – Tyngsboro, MA<br />Green Mountain Glades – <a href="http://www.vtglades.com/">www.vtglades.com</a> – Essex Junction, VT<br />Jersey Wildcats - <a href="http://www.jerseywildcats.com/">www.jerseywildcats.com</a> – Wharton, NJ<br />Maksymum Jr. Hockey – <a href="http://www.maksymumjuniorhockey.com/">www.maksymumjuniorhockey.com</a> – Rochester, NY<br />New England Jr. Falcons – <a href="http://www.juniorfalcons.com/">www.juniorfalcons.com</a> – Enfield, CT<br />New Hampshire Jr. Monarchs – <a href="http://www.nhjrmonarchs.com/">www.nhjrmonarchs.com</a> – Hooksett, NH<br />NY Jr. Coyotes – <a href="http://www.nyjrcoyotes.org/">www.nyjrcoyotes.org</a> – Massena, NY<br />Pittsburgh Junior B Penguins - <a href="http://www.juniorpenguinns.com/">www.juniorpenguinns.com</a> – Pittsburgh, PA<br />Salem Ice Dogs – <a href="http://www.salemicedogs.net/">www.salemicedogs.net</a> – Saugus, MA<br />South Shore Kings – <a href="http://www.southshorekings.com/">www.southshorekings.com</a> – Foxboro, MA<br />Syracuse Stars – <a href="http://www.syracusestars.net/">www.syracusestars.net</a> – Dewitt, NY<br />Tri-State Selects - <a href="http://www.tristateselects.com/">www.tristateselects.com</a> – Oaks, PA<br />Valley Jr. Warriors – <a href="http://www.jrwarriors.com/">www.jrwarriors.com</a> – Lawrence, MA<br /><br />Continental Hockey Association – Premier – <a href="http://www.jrhockey.net/">www.jrhockey.net</a><br /><br />New York Apple Core - <a href="http://www.applecorejunior.com/">www.applecorejunior.com</a> – Long Beach, NY<br />Frederick Freeze – <a href="http://www.frederickfreeze.com/">www.frederickfreeze.com</a> – Frederick, MD<br />Jersey Wildcats - <a href="http://www.jerseywildcats.com/">www.jerseywildcats.com</a> – Wharton, NJ<br />Mass Maple Leafs – <a href="http://www.massmapleleafs.com/">www.massmapleleafs.com</a> – Raynham, MA<br />Metro Fighting Moose – <a href="http://www.metromoose.com/">www.metromoose.com</a> – Brooklyn, NY<br />New Hampshire Jr. Monarchs - <a href="http://www.nhjrmonarchs.com/">www.nhjrmonarchs.com</a> – Hooksett, NH<br />Pittsburgh Jr. Penguins - <a href="http://www.juniorpenguinns.com/">www.juniorpenguinns.com</a> – Pittsburgh, PA<br />Philadelphia Jr. Blazers - <a href="http://www.juniorpatriots.com/">www.juniorpatriots.com</a> – Bethlehem, PA<br />Springfield Jr. Pics – <a href="http://www.springfieldjrpics.com/">www.springfieldjrpics.com</a> – Springfield, MA<br />Virginia Express - <a href="http://www.virginiaexpress.org/">www.virginiaexpress.org</a> – Woodbridge, VA<br /><br />Here are the leagues and teams in Tier-III Junior A:<br /><br />Western States Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.wshl.org/">www.wshl.org</a><br /><br />Bay City Bombers – <a href="http://www.jrbombers.org/">www.jrbombers.org</a> – Lakewood, CA<br />Capital Thunder – <a href="http://www.capitalthunderjrhockey.com/">www.capitalthunderjrhockey.com</a> – Roseville, CA<br />Colorado Outlaws – <a href="http://www.outlawsjrhockey.com/">www.outlawsjrhockey.com</a> – Windsor, CO<br />Dallas Hawks – <a href="http://www.dallashawkshockey.com/">www.dallashawkshockey.com</a> – Addison, TX<br />El Paso Rhinos – <a href="http://www.elpasorhinos.com/">www.elpasorhinos.com</a> – El Paso, TX<br />Phoenix Polar Bears – <a href="http://www.phoenixpolarbears.com/">www.phoenixpolarbears.com</a> – Phoenix, AZ<br />San Antonio Diablos – <a href="http://www.diabloshockey.net/">www.diabloshockey.net</a> – San Antonio, TX<br />San Diego Gulls – <a href="http://www.sandiegogullshockeyclub.com/">www.sandiegogullshockeyclub.com</a> – Escondido, CA<br />Texas Renegades – <a href="http://www.texasrenegades.net/">www.texasrenegades.net</a> – North Richland Hills, TX<br />Tulsa Rampage – <a href="http://www.tulsarampage.com/">www.tulsarampage.com</a> – Tulsa, OK<br />Valencia Flyers – <a href="http://www.valenciaflyers.net/">www.valenciaflyers.net</a> – Valencia, CA<br /><br />Northern Pacific Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.thenphl.com/">www.thenphl.com</a><br /><br />Billings Bulls – <a href="http://www.billingsbulls.com/">www.billingsbulls.com</a> – Billings, MT<br />Bozeman Ice Dogs – <a href="http://www.bozemanicedogs.com/">www.bozemanicedogs.com</a> – Bozeman, MT<br />Butte Roughriders – <a href="http://www.butteroughriders.net/">www.butteroughriders.net</a> – (problem with this site) Butte, MT<br />Coeur d’Alene Lakers – <a href="http://www.cdalakers.com/">www.cdalakers.com</a> – Coeur d’Alene, ID<br />Eugene Generals – <a href="http://www.eugenegenerals.com/">www.eugenegenerals.com</a> – Eugene, OR<br />Helena Bighorns – <a href="http://www.helenabighorns.com/">www.helenabighorns.com</a> – Helena, MT<br />Missoula Maulers – <a href="http://www.missoulamaulers.com/">www.missoulamaulers.com</a> – Missoula, MT<br />Puget Sound Tomahawks – <a href="http://www.tomahawkshockeyclub.com/">www.tomahawkshockeyclub.com</a> – Tacoma, WA<br />River City Jaguars – <a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/RIVERCITYJAGUARS">www.hometeamsonline.com/RIVERCITYJAGUARS</a> - Beaverton, OR<br />Rogue Valley Wranglers – <a href="http://www.roguevalleywranglers.com/">www.roguevalleywranglers.com</a> – Medford, OR<br />Tri-City Titans – <a href="http://www.tctitans.com/">www.tctitans.com</a> – Pasco, WA<br />Yellowstone Quake – <a href="http://www.yellowstonquake.com/">www.yellowstonquake.com</a> – Cody, WY<br />Seattle Totems – <a href="http://www.seattletotems.pucksystems2.com/">www.seattletotems.pucksystems2.com</a> – Shoreline, WA<br /><br />Minnesota Junior Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.mnjhl.com/">www.mnjhl.com</a><br /><br />Granite City Lumberjacks – <a href="http://www.lumberjackshockey.com/">www.lumberjackshockey.com</a> – St. Cloud, MN<br />Hudson Crusaders – <a href="http://www.hudson.pucksystems2.com/page/show/62933-hudson-crusaders">www.hudson.pucksystems2.com/page/show/62933-hudson-crusaders</a> - Hudson, WI<br />Minnesota Flying Aces – <a href="http://www.mnflyingaces.com/">www.mnflyingaces.com</a> – Little Falls, MN<br />Minnesota Ice Hawks – <a href="http://www.mnicehawks.com/">www.mnicehawks.com</a> – Rochester, MN<br />Minnesota Owls – <a href="http://www.minnesotaowls.com/">www.minnesotaowls.com</a> – Isanti, MN<br />Minnesota Wildcats – <a href="http://www.widcatsjrhockey.com/">www.widcatsjrhockey.com</a> – Maple Grove, MN<br />St. Paul Lakers – <a href="http://www.lakershockey.com/">www.lakershockey.com</a> – Edina, MN<br />Twin Cities Northern Lights – <a href="http://www.northernlightshockey.com/">www.northernlightshockey.com</a> – Bloomington, MN<br />Wisconsin Mustangs – <a href="http://www.mustanghockey.net/">www.mustanghockey.net</a> – Spooner, WI<br /><br />Central States Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.cshlhockey.com/">www.cshlhockey.com</a><br /><br />Chicago Force – <a href="http://www.chicagorforcehockey.com/">www.chicagorforcehockey.com</a> – Rolling Meadows, IL<br />Cincinnati Queen City Steam – <a href="http://www.queencitysteam.com/">www.queencitysteam.com</a> – Cincinnati, OH<br />Cleveland Jr. Lumberjacks – <a href="http://www.jrjacks.com/">www.jrjacks.com</a> – Strongsville, OH<br />Dubuque Thunderbirds – <a href="http://www.dubuquethunderbirds.com/">www.dubuquethunderbirds.com</a> – Dubuque, IA<br />Flint Junior Generals – <a href="http://www.juniorgenerals.com/">www.juniorgenerals.com</a> – Flint, MI<br />Grand Rapids Junior Owls – <a href="http://www.gr-jrb-owls.com/">www.gr-jrb-owls.com</a> (problem with site) - Byron Center, MI<br />Metro Jets – <a href="http://www.metrojetshockey.com/">www.metrojetshockey.com</a> – Waterford, MI<br />Motor City Chiefs – <a href="http://www.chiefsjrhockeyclub.com/">www.chiefsjrhockeyclub.com</a> – Dearborn Heights, MI<br />Peoria Mustangs – <a href="http://www.peoriamustangs.com/">www.peoriamustangs.com</a> – Peoria, IL<br />Quad City Express (now Flames) – <a href="http://www.qcjrflames.org/">www.qcjrflames.org</a> – Davenport, IA<br />St. Louis Junior Blues – <a href="http://www.stljrblues.org/">www.stljrblues.org</a> – St. Louis, MO<br />Toledo Cherokee – <a href="http://www.cherokeehockey.com/">www.cherokeehockey.com</a> – Toledo, OH<br /><br />Eastern Junior Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.easternjunior.com/">www.easternjunior.com</a><br /><br />Apple Core - <a href="http://www.applecorejunior.com/">www.applecorejunior.com</a> – Long Beach, NY<br />Bay State Breakers - <a href="http://www.baystatebreakers.com/">www.baystatebreakers.com</a> – Rockland, MA<br />Boston Jr. Shamrocks (now Philadelphia Revolution Jr. Hockey Club) – <a href="http://www.bostonshamrocks.com/">www.Bostonshamrocks.com</a> – Warminster, PA<br />Bridgewater Bandits - <a href="http://www.bridgewaterbandits.com/">www.bridgewaterbandits.com</a> – Bridgewater, MA<br />Capital District Selects – <a href="http://www.cdselects.com/">www.cdselects.com</a> Troy, NY<br />Green Mountain Glades - <a href="http://www.vtglades.com/">www.vtglades.com</a> – Essex Junction, VT<br />Jersey Hitmen – <a href="http://www.jerseyhitmen.net/">www.jerseyhitmen.net</a> – Wayne, NJ<br />Jr. Warriors – <a href="http://www.jrwarriors.com/">www.jrwarriors.com</a> – Haverhill, MA<br />Junior Bruins - <a href="http://www.bostonjuniorbruins.com/">www.bostonjuniorbruins.com</a> – Framingham, MA<br />New England Jr. Falcons - <a href="http://www.juniorfalcons.com/">www.juniorfalcons.com</a> – Enfield, CT<br />New England Jr. Huskies - <a href="http://www.jrhuskies.com/">www.jrhuskies.com</a> – Tyngsboro, MA<br />New Hampshire Jr. Monarchs - <a href="http://www.nhjrmonarchs.com/">www.nhjrmonarchs.com</a> – Hooksett, NH<br />South Shore Kings - <a href="http://www.southshorekings.com/">www.southshorekings.com</a> – Foxboro, MA<br />Syracuse Stars - <a href="http://www.syracusestars.net/">www.syracusestars.net</a> – Dewitt, NY<br /><br />Atlantic Junior Hockey League: - <a href="http://www.atlantichockey.org/">www.atlantichockey.org</a><br /><br />Binghamton Jr. Senators - <a href="http://www.binghamptonjrsenators.com/">www.binghamptonjrsenators.com</a> – Chenango Bridge, NY<br />Boston Jr. Bulldogs – <a href="http://www.bostonjuniorbulldogs.com/">www.bostonjuniorbulldogs.com</a> – Salem, NH<br />Hartford Jr. Wolfpack - <a href="http://www.jrwolfpack.com/">www.jrwolfpack.com</a> – Cromwell, CT<br />Laconia Leafs – <a href="http://www.laconialeafs.com/">www.laconialeafs.com</a> – Laconia, NH<br />New Jersey Rockets - <a href="http://www.njrockets.goalline.ca/">www.njrockets.goalline.ca</a> – Newark, NJ<br />New York Junior Bobcats – <a href="http://www.nybobcats.com/">www.nybobcats.com</a> – Syosset, NY<br />North Mass Cyclones – <a href="http://www.northermasscyclones.com/">www.northermasscyclones.com</a> – Hudson, NH<br />Portland Jr. Pirates - <a href="http://www.jrpirates.pucksystems2.com/">www.jrpirates.pucksystems2.com</a> – Saco, ME<br />Philadelphia Little Flyers - <a href="http://www.littleflyers.org/">www.littleflyers.org</a> – Aston, PA<br />Philadelphia Jr. Flyers - <a href="http://www.iceline.info/Flyers/default.htm">www.iceline.info/Flyers/default.htm</a> - West Chester, PA<br />Walpole Express - <a href="http://www.walpoleexpress.com/">www.walpoleexpress.com</a> – Walpole, MA<br />Washington Jr. Nationals – <a href="http://www.jrnationals.org/">www.jrnationals.org</a> – Arlington, VA<br /><br />Here’s the Tier-II league and teams:<br /><br />North American Hockey League – <a href="http://www.nahl.com/">www.nahl.com</a><br /><br />Alaska Avalanche – <a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=akavalanche&s=hockey&t=c">www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=akavalanche&s=hockey&t=c</a> – Wasilla, AK<br />Albert Lea Thunder – <a href="http://www.albertleathunder.com/">www.albertleathunder.com</a> – Albert Lea, MN<br />Alexandria Blizzard – <a href="http://www.alexandriablizzard.com/">www.alexandriablizzard.com</a> – Alexandria, MN<br />Alpena Ice Diggers – <a href="http://www.icediggers.com/">www.icediggers.com</a> – Alpena, MI<br />Bismarck Bobcats – <a href="http://www.bismarckbobcats.com/">www.bismarckbobcats.com</a> – Bismarck, ND<br />Fairbanks Ice Dogs - <a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=FAIRBANKSICEDOGSCOM&s=hockey&t=c">www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/?u=FAIRBANKSICEDOGSCOM&s=hockey&t=c</a> – Fairbanks, AK<br />Kenai River Brown Bears – <a href="http://www.kenairiverbrownbears.com/">www.kenairiverbrownbears.com</a> – Soldotna, AK<br />Mahoing Valley Phantoms – <a href="http://www.mvpphantoms.com/">www.mvpphantoms.com</a> – Boardman, OH<br />Marquette Rangers – <a href="http://www.marquetterangers.com/">www.marquetterangers.com</a> – Marquette, MI<br />Motor City Machine – <a href="http://www.machinehockey.com/">www.machinehockey.com</a> – Wyandotte, MI<br />North Iowa Outlaws – <a href="http://www.northiowaoutlaws.com/">www.northiowaoutlaws.com</a> – Mason City, IA<br />Owatonna Express – <a href="http://www.expressjrhockey.org/">www.expressjrhockey.org</a> – Owatonna, MN<br />Springfield Jr. Blues – <a href="http://www.jrblues.com/">www.jrblues.com</a> – Springfield, IL<br />St. Louis Bandits – <a href="http://www.stlbandits.com/">www.stlbandits.com</a> – Chesterfield, MO<br />Topeka Roadrunners – <a href="http://www.topekaroadrunners.com/">www.topekaroadrunners.com</a> – Topeka, KS<br />Traverse City North Stars – <a href="http://www.traversecitynorthstars.com/">www.traversecitynorthstars.com</a> – Traverse City, MI<br />USNTDP – USA Hockey’s US National Team Development Program – U17 and U18 – see www.usahockey.com<br />Wenatchee Wild – <a href="http://www.wenatcheewild.com/">www.wenatcheewild.com</a> – Wenatchee, WA<br />Wichita Falls Wildcats – <a href="http://www.wfwildcatshockey.com/">www.wfwildcatshockey.com</a> – Wichita Falls, TX<br /><br />And last here is the Tier-I league and teams:<br /><br />United States Hockey League - <a href="http://www.ushl.com/">www.ushl.com</a><br /><br />Cedar Rapid Roughriders – <a href="http://www.roughridershockey.com/">www.roughridershockey.com</a> – Cedar Rapids, IA<br />Chicago Steel – <a href="http://www.chicagosteelhockeyteam.com/">www.chicagosteelhockeyteam.com</a> – Bensenville, IL<br />Des Moines Buccaneers – <a href="http://www.bucshockey.com/">www.bucshockey.com</a> – Urbandale, IA<br />Fargo Force – <a href="http://www.fargoforce.com/">www.fargoforce.com</a> – Fargo, ND<br />Green Bay Gamblers – <a href="http://www.gamblershockey.com/">www.gamblershockey.com</a> – Green Bay, WI<br />Indiana Ice – <a href="http://www.indianaice.com/">www.indianaice.com</a> – Indianapolis, IN<br />Lincoln Stars – <a href="http://www.lincolnstars.com/">www.lincolnstars.com</a> – Lincoln, NE<br />Omaha Lancers – <a href="http://www.lancers.com/">www.lancers.com</a> – Council Bluffs, NE<br />Sioux City Musketeers – <a href="http://www.musketeershockey.com/">www.musketeershockey.com</a> – Sioux City, IA<br />Sioux Falls Stampede – <a href="http://www.sfstampede.com/">www.sfstampede.com</a> – Sioux Falls, SD<br />Tri-City Storm – <a href="http://www.stormhockey.com/">www.stormhockey.com</a> – Kearney, NE<br />Waterloo Blackhawks – <a href="http://www.waterlooblackhawks.com/">www.waterlooblackhawks.com</a> – Waterloo, IA<br /><br />So that’s about it my friends. I hope that you find this information helpful and I expect everybody trying out for any of these teams to be skating hard and walking with wood.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-28296032180398120402009-04-13T16:14:00.000-07:002009-04-13T16:17:18.224-07:00THUG ZAPPER (no.1)Yesterday was Easter and the last games of the 2008 - 2009 season have now been played and the lineup for the Stanley Cup playoffs have been set.<br /><br />Now this won’t make everybody happy including me but ….<br /><br />… here are my predictions for the best hockey has to offer in the playoffs:<br /><br />First Round:<br /><br />Capitals win vs the Rangers<br />Penguins win vs Flyers<br />Devils win vs Hurricanes<br />Bruins win vs Canadians<br /><br />Blues win vs Canucks<br />Sharks win vs Ducks<br />Redwings win vs Blue Jackets<br />Blackhawks win vs Flames<br /><br />Second Round:<br /><br />Devils win vs Capitals<br />Bruins win vs Penguins<br /><br />Sharks win vs Blues<br />Redwings win vs Blackhawks<br /><br />Semi-finals:<br /><br />Bruins win vs Devils<br /><br />Redwings win vs Sharks<br /><br />Stanley Cup Finals:<br /><br />Bruins win vs Redwings<br /><br />Yup – I just feel that it’s the Bruins’ year!<br /><br />I’ve got to tell you that I really got to see more televised hockey this season than any ever before in the past. I’ve seen just tons of NHL games, college games, high school games, AHL and even ECHL games. It’s been a real blast but I of course attribute this good fortune to the fact that I’ve been unemployed since October of 2008. Damn, nearly the entire season, ehh. I missed a little bit recouping from my fool-ass brain injury but otherwise I just got to see a shit load of hockey this year.<br /><br />I’m of course hoping to land a new job real soon. Ahh yup. And you know if that happens then I’m gonna miss a bunch of the Stanley Cup Playoff games. Well, I’d certainly rather have a job though. But hockey rules, and you know that as well as the fact that I live it.<br /><br />Those of you that keep track of me know that I travel to California on occasion, right? Back in late March I lined up several interviews for companies that have their headquarters in the San Francisco Bay area. All of them possibly good opportunities that would mostly keep me close to home here in the back woods but with some amount of travel as may be required because of the job responsibilities. So I’m hoping for some good luck out of this. Shit, I’m hoping for good luck for anybody that is looking for a job right now. The whole world has kinda soured if ya know what I mean but I’m sure we’ll pull out of it soon.<br /><br />You followers also know that when I travel that I like to stop in to local rinks and see what kinda shinny they got going on or how their youth teams are faring. It’s always fun to meet new pucksters and their friends and families. This trip was no different as I was able to set aside a bit of time to visit the rink in Oakland.<br /><br />It’s a fairly modern facility located on 18th Street in Oakland. Goes by the name of the Oakland Ice Center and seems to have some hockey affiliation with the San Jose Sharks and two other rinks; one in San Jose and one in Freemont. All three of these cities are on what they refer to as the eastern side of the Bay Area. I checked out what all they have going on here and was really quite impressed for a California rink. They’ve got an in-house league (Sharks Ice), a traveling club team – the Outlaw Bears, a high school league and an adult league with teams of the usual various names but I thought that these were a bit interesting: Puck Pigs, Skateful Dead, Cross-Czechs, and Gang Green.<br /><br />They’ve got two ice surfaces here – one NHL size and one Olympic size. Dressing rooms, pro-shop, snack bar; you know, the usual fare. But I’ve got say again – I was impressed.<br /><br />I stopped by mid-morning on a Tuesday and was expecting to find only figure skaters on the ice. Exactly! That’s all that was going on when I arrived, but by the time I checked out the facility, sipped on a coffee and reviewed some of the league and team stats things had begun to change.<br /><br />Private figure skating sessions had ended on the NHL rink and pucksters loaded down with their gear started showing up. I figured that it was maybe a session of lunch-time pickup getting ready to get underway so I thought I’d stick around to watch and chat up some of the players. I went back to the snack bar and got a slice of pizza. Whoa dogs – that’s some tough stuff to eat – I think it was leftover from the night before and was just put under the warming lights. Oh well it was chow and job interviewing had taken a bit outta me and I needed to re-energize a bit.<br />Now this was really strange, because I’ve never seen it with pick-up before, but two refs and two lineman came out on the ice first. They skated around a bit and then went over to the penalty box where a crowd was gathering off of the ice. I hadn’t noticed but there were a bunch of suits over their and a video crew with, what I could see, at least two cameras. Curious I moved over closer from the end boards to the sin bin and noticed that several of the dudes in suits were displaying embroidered NHL emblems on their jacket pockets.<br /><br />Interesting, ehh.<br /><br />On a previous visit to California I ran into Apple bigwigs testing the I-Puck along side Zamboni testing the Zamboomba. What a hilarious mess that was. I was wondering though “Could I be onto something as controversial again”?<br /><br />Curious and as forward as I am I walked up to one of the suits and introduced myself.<br /><br />“Hi, I’m Jasper Wheats, world famous hockey blogger. What’s going on here?”<br /><br />The dude shook my hand and said, “Howdy mate, I’m Rup Iverson, NHL rep – Enforcement Technology.”<br /><br />By this time players were coming out on to the ice and all of them were stopping by the penalty box and were signing in or something.<br /><br />Rup hands me a business card and says “This was all hush-hush until the GM’s meeting and since you’re here I figure the cat’s outta the bag. Ehh?”<br /><br />Not wanting to act like a stupid shit I said, “Ahh yup,” in as a commanding voice as I could.<br /><br />I dawdled a bit and lazily started to say, “Soooo …” expecting him to cut me off, which he did – the prideful bastard.<br /><br />“Wheats, I know your shit. Its good stuff. Ya don’t mind me calling ya ‘Wheats’ do ya? Well you know the big discussion coming outta the GM meeting was fighting. That’s my bag. I led the Norse league two years in row for penalty minutes and fighting majors. Unusual for European hockey but I just love to mix it up. After I quit playing I migrated to Canada end got myself a degree in human psychology. Coached a bit at junior level then moved into a back office position with the NHL. They said they could use somebody with my education and background.”<br /><br />This guy is on a high horse so I let him continue talking.<br /><br />“Ya see Wheats, Bettman more than anybody wants to abolish fighting in the league. Between me and you he’s a wimp and would probably drop from just a feigned punch. But anyway the GMs just want fighting controlled a little better. They realize that it adds to the package when a fan pays to watch a game and also that a good donnybrook can ramp-up a team’s play during the course of a game. But what the GMs are afraid of is that with the salary cap and all, well some of there top notch high priced players can’t afford to be injured in a little fisticuff. If ya catch my drift.”<br /><br />I returned, “Yeah I getcha. The big buck owners don’t want their stars being sidelined because they’re the main draw. Right? But that’s why teams carry enforcers, ehh.”<br /><br />“Right, right! That used to be the case. I mean did ya ever see Gretzky without McSorely? Right. Used to be the case I’m telling you. But now days the stars are just as willing to mix it up as anybody else. And this scares the owners and it trickles down to the GMs. They’ve got to somewhat obey their masters ehh. Don’t want to be kiss asses but money talks and bullshit walks, Wheats. You know that.”<br /><br />I’m getting this but what I’m not getting is how this mid-day skate is going to remedy this managerial situation. So I say “Cool!” to keep him on the hook and nudge some more. “So how’s this work, Rupster?”<br /><br />“Whoa, Wheats! I go by Rup. That Rupster shit makes me sound like some sort a punk kid. Lets keep this clean, ehh!”<br /><br />The dude is full of himself. “Sorry. So go on Rup.”<br /><br />“Some of the big horses have come up with some ideas and we’re trying one out today. Ya notice that all the players are signing releases over there? Well these guys are local pickup/beer league players noted for rough stuff and they’re each getting paid a couple hundred bucks to play today with instructions to play as crazy as possible. Elbows, boarding, high sticking, hooking you name it. We expect that the gloves will get dropped with regularity throughout the skate. We’ve got actual NHL on-ice officials that will blow whistles to stop play upon an infraction but no actual penalties will be called. We want the play intense but somewhat controlled. All of these guys jumped at the opportunity to play in this game this afternoon because they’re all pretty frustrated from sitting in the box so much during their regular league games. Wheats, you’re gonna see some old time hockey this afternoon.”<br /><br />“Ok, ok,” I say, “so the test is letting these boys play but lots of whistles? Doesn’t seem to be much of an idea.”<br /><br />“Nah Wheats. Here’s the drill. And all these guys know it and that’s why they sign the releases. Once a fight breaks out the linesmen will come into break it up as usual. But the refs are packing dude.”<br /><br />“What ya mean Rup?” Now I’m lost. Are these refs carrying guns or something?<br /><br />“OK, let me explain. See that belt the ref is putting on? It’s got a power pack for a taser that is strapped to his wrist and index finger kinda Spiderman style. When he extends his arm micro switches are turned on that activates the system and when he blows his whistle the taser fires in the direction of the pointed arm/index finger. The taser system has an audio pickup tuned to the officials’ whistles that activates and fires the propulsion subsystem within milliseconds. We zap the fighters and the fight ends. Simple as shit ehh. I don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.”<br /><br />“I think that the idea is crazier than radioactive moose dung, Rup. But what’s my opinion count for anyway? I just happened upon your little exercise and probably shouldn’t be here anyway. I think I’ll go sit in the stands and watch your ‘controlled’ game. Thanks for the info.”<br /><br />“Just don’t get in the way Wheats. I’ve got a lot respect for you and what you’ve done for the world of hockey. So I sure as shit don’t want you to get mixed up in the nastiness on the ice. I’m sure you could hold your own with these boys; but just the same I don’t want you to get hurt. Ha-ha! Sit back and enjoy the show.”<br /><br />I climbed up into the stands and by than the game got underway. Rup hadn’t been kidding about the expected rough play. This was some good shit my friends. Rough and tumble hockey the way it was meant to be played. But in my mind its just a dabgone shame that if a fight breaks out that someone’s going to get zapped.<br /><br />It wasn’t long before we had some action. One guy got hooked on an open ice breakaway (ok almost a breakaway) and at the following faceoff after the whistle the two decided to tangle. The linesman let them go for few seconds and then jumped into as normal to break it up. The ref lined up pointed his arm and finger, rather than raising it, and blew his whistle. He either missed his mark or was too far away because the fighters kept going at it. The second ref then came in close and zapped one of the guys. Since by then the guys were almost bear hugging the charge from the taser went though both of them and they dropped like stiff legged GI Joes and commenced to shake mildly about on the ice but then got up quickly and started at it again.<br /><br />At that point the cardboard pizza I had eaten decided to come back up. This was ugly in a way and didn’t seem to really work the way Rup said it was intended. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. Finally they broke it off with the help of the linesmen.<br /><br />After a few seconds some EMTs, that I hadn’t noticed previously, came out on the ice to check the fighters’ vitals, I guess.<br /><br />Both refs went over to the penalty box and were each refitted with replacement wrist apparatus. Apparently the system was modular for a quick changeover of the wrist remote. Somebody must have thought ahead about this. Any duration to changeover would be a detriment to the game – kinda like a TV timeout.<br /><br />Play got underway again and it continued at its rough pace. I’m still thinking that this isn’t such a good idea when Rup comes jogging up into the stands with a clipboard in his hand.<br /><br />He sits down beside me and boasts “What ya think of that Wheats?!?! Wasn’t that something?”<br /><br />“Ahh Rup! That had me tasting my lunch twice. I’m not so sure that this is such a good idea,” I responded feeling sick again.<br /><br />“Oh don’t tell me you can’t stomach this action. I’m sure that there’s more to come.”<br /><br />A little bit later a fracas broke out in the crease and slot area. Normal pushing and shoving like you’d expect. Four, five maybe even six guys going at it some.<br /><br />Both refs move up close and both of them have their arm extended and whistle to their mouths. Or so I thought. Finally a whistle blows and the bundled up bunch of guys don’t pay any attention and keep at it. But the craziest shit in the world is that one of the ref’s went down and he’s vibrating like Linda Blair in the Exorcist just to the left side of the net.<br /><br />I tossed my cookies in a split second and Rup was up and on the run. Next thing I see is he’s flat footing it across the ice and sliding into the group of players and drops to his knees like a trainer over the downed ref. The EMTs follow but at a much slower cautionary pace to aid this zebra down on the ice.<br /><br />The vibrating stops. They give the ref oxygen, put him on a flatboard and take him off the ice.<br /><br />Rup gets back off the ice and goes to talk with the suits. A bullhorn gets pulled out and whoever’s behind it announces that “That’s it for today boys.”<br /><br />I get up to leave cuz I’m not feeling real good now and Rup catches up to me at the bottom of the stairwell.<br /><br />He says “Wheats, I’m sure you’re going to write something on this so I want you to get it straight what just happened. The ref that went down for some reason had the remote for his taser attached to his whistle hand and brought it up to his mouth. When the other ref blew his whistle it fired right into his cheek. Zapped the holy fuck out him and also cut up his face. He should be ok because these things are de-tuned a bit from standard issue units that the cops use. But I don’t know for sure, we maybe don’t have these puppies set strong enough to be the deterrent that we want on the ice. It sure zapped the fuck outta the ref but didn’t do as much as we wanted to the players. Oh, and I forgot to mention this earlier but each of these players had to have been zapped before to qualify for this skate. As crazy as it sounds, none of them had to volunteer to be zapped. They all said that they had been zapped a time or two previously by the Oakland PD. Some of them said that they had been tasered right out in the parking lot here while chugging beers after a skate. Maybe they’re sort of immune to the charge. I don’t know.”<br /><br />I started heading for the door and told Rup that I hope he gets it right but that I still didn’t feel like it’s the best thing to do to the game of hockey.<br />Rup grabbed my arm and spun me around. “Wheats, I know what your thinking. But there’s a lot of money in this. You’ve got my card. If you think of anything that might work that the GMs, owners and even possibly Bettmen would be interested in then give me a call or shoot me an email. I know that you’ve got lots of connections and are well regarded in hockey circles worldwide. Your input would be great.”<br /><br />With that he shook my hand and bid me goodbye with one of my own lines “Wheats, your walking with wood, man, your walking with wood.”Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-70699126189178403572009-03-16T12:43:00.000-07:002009-03-16T12:50:34.253-07:00IS IT HOOKING OR IS IT FISHING?Have you ever been fishing? Nah, I’m not talking about out in the ocean. I’m a freakin land lubber so my idea of fishing is from shore on a mountain lake or impoundment or the streams that flow into or out of these bodies of water. I’m mainly talking about trout fishing. It’s a favorable pastime when hockey season is over and it sure beats the shit outta playing golf.<br /><br />Speaking of golf, have ya ever seen the kinda money those guys make in tournaments? Where the hell does that money come from? Its not like golf is a physical game like hockey that can draw from an enormous fan-base as a legitimate spectator sport. Shit howdy! I mean who watches that shit and even better yet who in the world would PAY to watch it? For the life of me, I just can’t figure it out.<br /><br />So I’ll get back to fishing in a little bit.<br /><br />What in the world is going on with ice hockey these days? Playoffs are around the corner and will start in about four weeks and the general managers all got together again and raised some shit about fighting and instigators and all this other shit. It blows my mind how far away from true hockey we are getting these days. Look at all the protections that are being provided goalies and superstars. Fuck’em! As far as I’m concerned if ya lace’m up and step on the ice you’re fair game. So you’re a goalie and ya lay down in the crease (Gee have you seen how big the crease is these days?) trying to make a save? That’s your job, right? You’ve got more protective gear on then anyone else on the ice, is that correct? So you’re down or maybe your not and you get clobbered by an opponent; maybe on purpose or maybe he got clobbered into you by one of your teammates, so he gets a penalty and you get to be a whoosss. Is that right?<br /><br />No fuckin way! Of course its not. Be a man instead of a weenie.<br /><br />And the hooking calls that have been being made all season long; what a bunch of shit they are. Take a look at a hockey stick. See how at the end of the shaft the blade joins it angularly. Now to restrict or impede someone by hooking by use of this angled blade is a bloody hook. Not the crap that the league now calls. A player gets tapped in his mid-section or on his gloves by his opponent and we get a hooking call. Bull crap! Come up with a new term for this – call it panty-waisting or tapping. But hooking, come on? No way. I’m sick of it.<br /><br />What does the league think? Getting tapped might hurt your little fingies? Well wear some dad-gone hockey gloves for Pete’s sake. Have you seen the mitts that some of the hot shot forwards are wearing these days? My honey wears heavier gloves when she does gardening. If ya get a chance take a look at the skimpy little gloves that Joe Thornton uses.<br /><br />One thing that is fairly physical that I’ve never been too fond of though is cross-checking in the back. This can cause permanent spinal damage. It seems as though this has been on the rise and very seldom is called. Probably the most prevalent cross-checker in the league is Rob Blake.<br /><br />When I coached, I always taught my kids to drop one hand off the stick so that they wouldn’t get called for cross checking. There isn’t a penalty for shoving.<br /><br />There, I got up on my soapbox for a little bit. I mean, like, gee-wilikers I’m Jasper Wheats, walking with wood, and I’m entitled to speak my mind about all things hockey, ehh.<br /><br />How about you? What’s your take on all the changes going on with hockey? Drop me a line and let me know how you feel. Are we losing that old time hockey flavor that we so love?<br /><br />Yup, I got a little off task here you guys. I hope that you didn’t mind too dang much. Let’s get back to fishing, ehh.<br /><br />I used to do a whole shit load of fishing on the lakes in Minnesota when I lived down in the Twin Cities area. Mainly catching bluegills, crappies and fool bullheads. It was a good time that’s for sure. I remember one little fishing trip we took up to a lake north of Saint Paul, Twin Rivers Lake. We were probably three families all together if I remember right and this time we went out in two powerboats to the far side of the lake from where we had set up camp. It’s so long ago now that I can’t remember if we were using shiners or worms but we were working a crappie hole between where the two rivers dumped into the lake. It was like fishing in a barrel. You drop your line, you pull up a crappie. Seemed as though somebody in the other boat caught a small pike and I don’t think it was big enough to be legal so all we really had was a big old mess of panfish.<br /><br />On this particular fishing expedition I was the oldest male kid and as such was designated to fillet all these puppies. I think it was like 173 fish that I cleaned that afternoon. I was up to my elbows in fish guts, skin and scales and flat slabs of pan-fish fillets. It was actually quite a bitch but the fish fry we had that night was awfully damn good.<br /><br />But this is my take on that: Having the boats to get over to that fishing hole was just too much of an unfair advantage to the fish. I guess that’s why I don’t like boat fishing. Oh yeah, plus I always get a little seasick later from the rocking of v-hull boats. Now a canoe, that’s a different story. You’re low to the water and you have to paddle – there’s some exertion involved on the fisherman’s part and that sort of karma-wise evens out the advantage over the fish.<br /><br />After moving away from the Land of 10,000 Lakes I didn’t fish for many years. I had a new life and new adventures that a young man in his late teens and early twenties might find himself involved. But nope, fishing wasn’t one of those activities.<br /><br />At some point in my late twenties, one of my hockey buds, Mooney (he’s since passed away due to cancer but is walking with wood on the other side I’m absolutely sure), talked me and a bunch of other members of the team to go on a trout fishing trip up to the mountains. This, my friends, was a great reintroduction to a favorite pastime of all folks that live in the backwoods.<br /><br />On this first trip it was Moonie, Mick, Guyster, myself, and I think Doodoo. Mick played defense with me on occasion and Guyster, our goalie, from Montreal, actually had a college degree in fish husbandry – so he was sort of an expert on all things “fish”. DooDoo was a blond haired horndog slicker from Boston that’d poke anything that had a hole; hence his nickname. And Moonie, well he’d skated winger most of the time and had been coming to this area since he was a little kid.<br /><br />There were four main areas that we fished on this trip. The first was in the high country lakes. All were at 10,000 feet elevation or higher. A couple of small ones that we didn’t pursue too heavily were the Toad Lakes that were higher up in the mountain range but part of the drainage. Then there were the two Virgin Lakes (Upper and Lower or Big and Little take your pick) and Turbull Lake that were all within about a quarter a mile of each other that we fished quite heavily. The second area that we fished was the Walking Wood River that was down the mountain in another drainage but easy walking from the main road. The third was a big impoundment, Spanhaven Reservoir, where we fished from the dam and the trout were fat. The fourth and last spot we fished was at the lowest elevation at around 4,000 feet and again an impoundment named Lindy Pond. <br /><br />Camping was available at or near all areas except Spanhaven where a small town is similarly named that has motels, a sporting goods/fishing supplies store, gas stations, restaurants and bars. On this particular trip, and any I took with Moonie, we always stayed at the Walking Wood Lodge in town and ate breakfast at a coffee shop across the street and had dinner and brews at the Rhino Bar down the street.<br /><br />Moonie had scads of injuries, broken bones and shit, so I think he found sleeping on a hotel bed to be of less discomfort then tent camping. We didn’t complain. A warm shower after fishing all day in rain sometimes or even sleet wasn’t such a damn bad inconvenience to put up with, ehh.<br /><br />I am damn glad that old Moonie turned me on to this part of the world and re-inspired my fishing spirit. He may have sucked on the ice but he sure knew how to continue our camaraderie after the season was over. The trout opener is always the first weekend in May so the timing was excellent.<br /><br />Do any of you hockey dudes or dudettes have a friend like Moonie that turned you on to something way cool? Again, if you have, well than just drop me a line and tell me about it. It coulda been an uncle, an aunt, a grandparent, or a neighbor. Shit, it could be your folks or a sibling that spiffed up a part of your life and maybe they haven’t ditched it yet for a better life like Moonie did. But tell me about it, I’d like to hear your stories.<br /><br />After having done this with Moonie and the boys for a few years I made plans for a fishing trip with my brother Jingles, his son Ry-Ry and three of our nephews Ricky, Josey and his little bro Amos. Ricky and Josey are the oldest and the same age at around 12 or 13 during this trip. I think Amos is next youngest and then Ry-Ry was the punkest kid along.<br /><br />This trip was for camping and fishing – no hotel or restaurant fare. The boys were going to enjoy the virtues of camping. We packed all the gear under the shell of my little pickup truck and Amos road with me. Jingles was driving at the time either a Yugo or a Le Car, econo-boxes, with the other three nephews. <br /><br />So off we headed about 340 miles each way to the campground at Turnbull Lake. We weren’t too concerned about making good time, just sort of pittered about with pit stops and time to jostle a bit to break up the tedium of the drive. Nothing like uncles destroying all the good manners that these boys’ moms had ever taught them. Yeah, you’re damn right you can fart in the car! Ha-ha, and the louder and the stinkier the better.<br /><br />We brought along the usual provisions for eating and drinking – eggs, bacon, potatoes for frying, hot dogs, chips, cookies, pops and beers (for me and Jingles only – of course) and maybe some fruit – not sure about that. I packed three of my tents – an umbrella tent that myself and Amos slept in and two each two man pup tents, one for Jingles and Ry-Ry and one for Josie and Ricky. Everybody also brought sleeping bags for themselves. It gets down below freezing even on summer nights when your camping above 10,000 feet so we needed to be prepared.<br /><br />The first day was dedicated to driving and setting up camp. We didn’t do any fishing, had a little time to hike around and show the boys the three lakes that were close by. The campground has mountains that rise up another three to four thousand feet on three sides so the views up there were pretty damn spectacular. I’m pretty sure that everybody thought this place was just tits.<br /><br />I fixed dinner and got a fire going. We sat around the fire, roasted marshmallows and acted like just a bunch of fools telling scary stories and talking about bears and crap. I think the coolest thing for my nephews was being able to add wood to the fire and being able to stir it up making sparks fly. It was crazy but very cool to hang out with my family in such a rugged place. As we let the fire burn down it came time to take trips to the campground’s outhouse for the before bed pisseroos. With couple of flashlights in hand we all trucked on down to individually enter the throne of stinkdom. Whew, it was bad in there after a hot summer day – even in the cool of the night that shitter was pretty ripe.<br /><br />So after that ordeal we all got back to the camp and I made sure that each tent had a flashlight and we all settled into our tents and sleeping bags. Everybody was making a lot of noise and such with laughing coming from every tent before we finally crashed out. But I’m not so sure that anybody got a good night’s sleep. It was colder than poop. Amos mutters in his sleep and I know that I had to bury my head in my sleeping bag to keep warm and block that out. Damn near suffocated and get claustrophobic when I cover my head. Oh well, that wasn’t the worst of it.<br /><br />In the morning I come to find out that Jingle’s and Ry-Ry’s sleeping bags were of the GI Joe variety. They might keep you warm on the living room floor but they sure don’t work for fuck up in the mountains. They froze their fool asses off.<br /><br />After fixing breakfast for all I got us organized to do some fishing. I already had two complete ultra-light spinning rod and reels plus one medium weight rod and reel set up. So for this trip I had bought four el-cheapo closed face spinning rod and reel rigs. I hate those things but thought that they would be easier for kids to learn on. Deciding that the two Virgin Lakes had too much vegetation growing on the shore line and to avoid snags in this shit we walked over to the far shore of Turbull Lake where there were some rock ledges and boulder sized scree that we could easily fish from.<br /><br />Now Jingles is a hell of a hockey player but I had to show him how to setup the gear and how to cast to catch trout just like I did my nephews. The nephews all grew up to be pretty athletic with Ricky and Josie playing some puck, Ry-Ry winning an AAAU 14 year old world series, and Amos playing every play in some football games his senior year of high school. So once I got them going they all did pretty good.<br /><br />The only real problem was while Amos was not paying attention and setting his rig down a seagull swam into his line and being startled flew away pulling his gear into about fifteen feet of water. What a crack up. Good thing I had an extra rig.<br /><br />The boys started getting hungry so we broke off to go back to camp for lunch. While there Mick showed up in his Bronco and he went off fishing one of the Virgin or Toad Lakes only to join us again in the evening.<br /><br />So back to the shelves and rocks we went fishing. And boy oh boy did it get good in the afternoon. We were catching twelve-inch rainbows right and left. We discovered that about 30 to 40 feet out was a drop off and the fish were hanging just over that edge. I was hopping about taking fish off the line and getting them on stringers and doing this and doing that to keep the screaming down. I got so caught up after a while helping Amos and walking back and forth from his spot to where Jingles and Ry-Ry were fishing that I hadn’t noticed that Josey and Ricky had disappeared. When I did finally notice I realized that those little shitters had taken off and had climbed several hundred feet up the scree and were perched on a massive outcropping with about a hundred foot free fall immediately below them. I screamed at them to get back down explaining that their moms’, my sisters, would kill me if they got seriously hurt while up here. LOL<br /><br />That evening I cleaned some of the trout and we had them for dinner. Needless to say the boys preferred hot dogs so we had those too.<br /><br />Again we sat around the fire and had a good time that evening. It was good to have Mick show up because he added stories that we hadn’t heard before. Plus his inclusion into the adult attendance we drank a lot more beer that night and I know for one that I paid for that with several frigid scurries away from the tent in the night in order to empty my bladder. Ry-Ry discovered that if he stuffed green pine needles into the beer cans and threw them into the fire that they made loud popping noises and so had invented “sap bombs” that we put up with during that night’s and the remaining evening fires.<br /><br />I really think these boys had a blast. I know that I did and I’m sure that I’ll remember this fishing trip forever. I hope that they do too.<br /><br />Another thing the boys discovered was that pops and beers make for tremendous burps when you’re at altitude. Each tried to out do the others. It was intense and oft times sounded quite painful.<br /><br />Because of those wimp-ass sleeping bags that Jingles and Ry-Ry had to use they placed some good sized loose stones next to the fire pit to warm up and later put them in the bottom of their sleeping bags to keep warm through the night. Well – half the night and as crazy as it was this worked better than doing nothing else like they had the first night.<br /><br />Mick hadn’t brought a tent and asked if he could sleep under the shell in the bed of my pickup. No problem, but he only had blankets and no sleeping bag. In the morning he said that that was bullshit. So much wind blew in around the bed of my truck that he froze his fuckin ass off. He was gonna sleep in the back seat of his Bronco the next night.<br /><br />The next day we hiked about and fished some more. All in all I think we caught about eighty rainbows. Like that fishing trip back in Minnesota, again I cleaned every fish. Now trout don’t get filleted but you do gut them by slitting from their bowel opening to their gills and pulling their innards out by grabbing the gills and pulling down and out. Gills are pretty sharp and both of my thumbs were sliced almost to the bone from doing this – ahhhhh - yes the pains of fishing.<br /><br />I think that my old defensive buddy, Mick, had a pretty good time hanging out with the old Wheats clan for fishing and freezing on this adventure. We had to leave on the third day early and left him while he did some more fishing.<br /><br />We packed everything up and got ready to hit the road. I looked at Amos who was again going to ride with me. He had the same and only sweatshirt he had with him still on – filthier than my fishing rag. It was an old mustard yellow colored thing so I had him turn it inside out so it didn’t look so bad. Kinda held the odor in also. He got a bloody nose on the way home and bled all over it anyway, so no biggie – I should have left it right side out, ehh.<br /><br />Sometime later after this trip I found out that Josie and Ricky couldn’t stand the stench of the outhouse at the campground and had avoided having to sit in the office by not taking a crap the whole trip. LMFAO! I don’t know how they managed that because that greasy-ass bacon that I fixed every morning for breakfast had my bowels moving in about three minute flat. I guess you could call what I fix for the morning meal as “Jasper’s Instant Breakfast”, ehh.<br /><br />I love hockey. I love camping. And I love fishing. So many more tales to tell.<br /><br />Come back again and read some more.<br /><br />Jasper here, just telling ya to skate hard and walk with wood.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-67881518351082688792009-02-16T14:44:00.000-08:002009-02-16T14:52:56.624-08:00CROSSED STICKS AGAINToday’s a great day. Plain and simple. Yup!<br /><br />I woke up again, still breathing and hungry for hash-browns, bacon and eggs.<br /><br />That kind shit tells ya that I’m still alive and well. Ehh? What do you expect? No matter no how the back woods and winds coming down from the great north ain’t gonna knock my socks off today. No sirree!<br /><br />You folks up for that? Ya gonna be kickin it again with me today? Hope so cuz I ain’t loopin in no slackers. Hear me? Me and my pals, we’re walking with wood big-time!<br /><br />“Why?” you guys ask.<br /><br />Who gives a rats ass why. It just don’t matter none. Not at all.<br /><br />Nobody’s gonna knock the wind outta my sails and nobody’s gonna glue a chip on my shoulder.<br /><br />Uhh uhh. Not today.<br /><br />So Saturday was Valentine’s Day and it followed a Friday the thirteenth this year. No biggie. I spent both days with my honey, treating her just fine. She loved it. Uhh huh! Did ya do the same? Shoulda if ya didn’t and shame on you too.<br /><br />Oh, what else?<br /><br />Well Bronzy and some of the Outlaws went over to Wisconsin to the Labatt Blue Pond Hockey Tournament. I tried to get a hold of him Friday evening to see how they were doing but no luck so I left a voice mail on his cell phone.<br /><br />I worried about those boys and that night I had a fool dream that they lost their first game like 34 to 1. Crazy dream. I know those boys know how to lose but not that bad ehh.<br /><br />So Saturday evening Bronzy finally calls me back. They had had two games earlier in the day. Lost both and he says that they lost on Friday too. All tolled they were out scored by seven goals in their three games. Sucks but I’ll be damned if they hadn’t just partaken in the very grass roots of our fine sport. Pond hockey! Ya can’t beat it for nothing!<br /><br />He says to me, “Jasper, we’re in a bar, it’s kinda loud. Let me move to a quieter spot.”<br /><br />I asked him who all skated and he told me that Woody, Blummer, Terry, Gordie and Warren were there with him. I said, “So you boys going to drink that bar dry?”<br /><br />“Nah, I don’t think so. Wisconsin folks can drink really well I think and they were prepared for our partying. Besides that, Woody’s gone on the wagon and he’s just drinking O’Douls.”<br /><br />“Well there goes half the consumption that you’d normally have then, ehh”, I responded. “Say did ya bring along any of those ‘Polka Til Ya Puke’ t-shirts and try to sell them?”<br /><br />He laughed and said “Oh fuck no Jasper, I’d a probably been run outta town if I’d tried to hawk them puppies. Thought that they were a crazy idea once but not so sure now. These cheeseheads really don’t take highly to folks ragging on their favorite form of dance. Ha-ha.”<br /><br />He continued with some more comments about the tournament. “You and Jingles shoulda been here. Brings back old memories of when we were kids skating on the pond in the neighborhood back there in Wayzata. Way too much skating going on here, though, and the ice was really pretty rough. Couldn’t make decent passes and woulda been hell on your hip Jasper.”<br /><br />“Yup,” I said. “I told ya that it would be rough and sharp skates weren’t gonna be any advantage. And right now, it ain’t my hip I’d a been worried about. It’s like my whole body is just like one over stretched rubber-band right now since I’ve had my brain injury. Nothing seems to be loose. I’d a probably snapped every ding-dang tendon in my body. Damn, though! I really miss it and wish I coulda joined you guys.”<br /><br />After that he put Woody on. He’d moved outta state and I hadn’t talked to him in a while so that was a real treat.<br /><br />We made the old times chit-chat and then he says “Hold on Jasper” as he steps outside the bar. “I’ve gotta ask you something kind of private. Inside, behind the bar on the wall is a wooden plaque that’s heart shaped and it’s got a golden cross on it and a couple silvery crossed hockey sticks below. No words, nothing else. I asked a couple of the barmaids what it meant but they didn’t know, said that they had only come in to help out for the extra tournament crowd. I’ll tell ya, it’s kinda eerie. Do you know what it means? Could you look into it Jasper?”<br /><br />I told him that I’d research it a bit cuz I wasn’t real sure what the plaque meant. I told him that it might be the symbol for another chapter of the super secret Crossed Stick Society.<br /><br />Enough said we signed off.<br /><br />Yeah, it got me wondering though. You guys remember my tale from June of 2007 where I wrote about ‘Hockey’s Secret Society’ after having read some revealing news articles about Yales’ Skull and Bones secret society? Remember that I told you guys that we had some very exclusive hockey relics including (You can’t tell anybody this shit!) Hobey Baker’s kneecap?<br /><br />You remember that shit, ehh?<br /><br />Well, I started investigating. I started looking at the symbolism first.<br /><br />First of all I looked into the heart shape of the plaque. We know that the heart is a vital organ of the body. It pumps the life blood that sustains us. Symbolically it stands for character – compassion, love, intellect, courage, affection and ardor. Something of deep concern. In association with friendship and camaraderie it can symbolize blood brothers or brothers-in-arms.<br /><br />Companions, huh? Could it mean team-mates? Team-mates to the end? Maybe.<br /><br />Now the cross immediately brings to mind the association with Christianity. Christ on the cross at Golgatha (the 'skull') or Calvary. This symbol was made more popular as the standard for the knights that went off to fight in the crusades. It carries not so much the image of Christ’s death on the cross but more so his resurrection and salvation for those that believe in him. Here than we could say the cross indicates to remember the old but be inspired and renewed by that remembered wisdom.<br /><br />And those crossed hockey sticks. They too are symbolic of the cross. But are tied to a specific cause. Here being hockey.<br /><br />But as I said above, the knights in the crusades carried on their flag or standard a symbolic cross. And no more famous are those knights than those of the Knights Templar and their association with the order of the freemasons. The freemasons may have been the first to have used other objects crossed (or overlapping) as one of their symbols. They have used the crossed Masonic square (like a carpenter’s square) and compass to create one of their symbols.<br /><br />The skull and cross-bones symbol that we so readily associate with pirates (and Yale’s secret society) also is of Christian origin. A skull (or several) with a pair of crossed bones were placed at the entrance to cemeteries. It is a symbol therefore of death. On a pirates flag the crossed bones are positioned below the skull. As a symbol for poison the skull is over the top of the crossed bones – meaning the skull is in the foreground and the bones in the background. As with motorcycle gangs and tattoos the skull and crossbones is now an indication of being a bad-ass.<br /><br />Another common symbol found in cemeteries is marked upon the grave markers or tombstones of soldiers killed in combat. Here the symbol is that of crossed swords or sabers. To “cross swords” is metaphorical to fighting. And to fight can be as equal to - to compete or to be in competition. That being so than our symbol or logo of crossed hockey sticks indicates that we are in the business of hockey competition.<br /><br />Some other examples of crossed objects used as logos, emblems and badges that I discovered in my research include the following:<br /><br />Crossed Hammers – symbol for miners, also a hate symbol used by the Hammerskin Nation – a racist skinhead organization<br />Crossed Keyes – keys to heaven or St. Peter’s keys<br />Crossed Oar and Saw – the oar symbolizes travel and the saw symbolizes martyrdom – for Saint Simon Zealotes<br />Crossed Arrows – Native American symbol for friendship, also included in the badge of the bombers of the RAF<br />Crossed Rifles – military infantry, etc.<br />Crossed Pistols – used on cowboy belt buckles, etc, also included in the badge of military police<br />Crossed Drum Sticks – drummer or drum corp<br />Crossed Baseball Bats – oh yeah you guys know that sport<br />Crossed Hatchets – the pioneer insignia for the Union Army during the civil war, also used quite often in ancient coat-of-arms, used by the Chicago Blackhawks, and may be found in combination with a skull as a biker symbol<br />Crossed Hammer and Sickle – symbol for Communism<br />Crossed Hammer, Hoe and Brush – Korean Worker’s Party<br />Crossed Pickaxe and Hammer or Mallet – also a miner’s symbol<br />Crossed Knife and Fork – symbol for a feast (I love this one, ehh – just put it with a beer mug and ….)<br />Crossed Knives – symbol for impending death<br />Crossed Tennis Rackets – ahh-yup another summer sport<br />Crossed Golf Clubs – oh that’s gay, sorry excuse for a sport – but sometimes combined with a skull that has golf balls for eyes (I guess that means that you’re a killer golfer – whatever ….)<br />Crossed Clubs - a symbol of the exploits of Heracles/Hercules<br />Crossed Flags – an emblem for the color guard<br />Crossed Checkered Flags – a racing symbol – the race winner being shown the checkered flag<br />Crossed Checkered and Chevy Flag – a Chevy Corvette logo<br />Crossed Lacrosse Sticks – a lacrosse logo – interesting: the sticks are also known as crosses<br />Crossed Skis – a skier’s logo (don't do that when you're skiing because it'll really mess ay up)<br />Crossed Mallet and Shepherd’s Staff Behind a Cross – the symbol of a White Shrine high priestess<br />Crossed Lipstick, Ciggie and Flickknife – symbol for a female prep school delinquent – found on a “bitch blazer”<br /><br />So, how many other “crossed” symbols, logos or badges can you think of? How many hockey team logo’s can you think of that include crossed hockey sticks? Bunches, ehh?<br /><br />Are we all tied to the same brotherhood? It seems as though there is that implication with ‘all’ of these crossed symbols.<br /><br />But how does that heart shaped plaque, the golden cross and the silvery hockey sticks all tie together? Is it a talisman of a remote Wisconsin chapter of the super secret Crossed Stick Society? Or is it something else? Who made it? When was it made? These are all questions that I’m going to have to investigate further. I can only surmise its importance. It is definitely a mystery to be resolved and I’ll have to get back to you guys when I know more.<br /><br />Jasper here until next time. Skate hard, walk with wood, and take that friggin shot, ehh!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-1402566840203207322009-02-08T18:40:00.000-08:002009-02-08T18:43:41.908-08:00THIS WEEK IN HOCKEYA week or so ago we had the NHL All Star weekend. I was home the whole weekend so I put my eyes on the tube and watched all the activities. The skills competition used to fascinate me. This year, not so much.<br /><br />My disappointment started with the fastest skater competition. The electronic timing system didn’t even work. Sheeeet! What’s up with that? And still nobody gets close to Marian Gaborik’s record time of 13 seconds.<br /><br />The highlight of my disappointment here culminated in Alex Ovechkin’s dalliance with two sticks, a hat and tourist sunglasses. What a mess. So what if he scored with his off-hand. I thought it sucked. I want to see skill that you would find extraordinary if it was performed in the course of a game, not this horseshit. Gee, I’ve got one of my new friends over at myspace, a spif puckhead from Germany, whose profile photo shows him balancing an upright stick off the palm of each hand. Regardless of the fact that he’s in street clothes and maybe in a rink parking lot instead of the ice, I’m sure next year will see Ovechkin pulling this stunt in the skills competition for no useful hockey purpose. Ha, ha!<br /><br />The Young Star’s game is a pretty neat thing most of the time since they started it. It gives the first and second year stars a chance to be recognized for their seasonal on ice accomplishments. But, in my opinion, their regular season play is way more exciting than this four-on-four showcase event. Again, I’m disappointed.<br /><br />So, that was on Saturday and then we move to the big event on Sunday.<br /><br />I guess that the Hollywood types that produce these things think we need something other than hockey. I’m mean why does the NHL think it needs to create an event along the lines of the Super Bowl. Come on it isn’t even the same and besides who watches football anymore anyway. Well, these producers, they’re fools. I’ve seen Cirque du Soleil once, even paid for it, but once is enough. I want to see hockey. I want to see the best damn hockey ever.<br /><br />Won’t happen in an all star game, ehh.<br /><br />These guys that get chosen to play in an all star game are definitely all qualified to walk with wood in my book. But they sure don’t strut it in this game.<br /><br />Defense? What’s that?<br /><br />Aggressive? What did we have only one penalty?<br /><br />And to be picked to play this game as a goalie? Whoa-dogs! That’s got to be the most em-bare-assing thing in the world. Why would ya wanna show up?<br /><br />But, I watched the game and I’ve got to say that the city of Montreal and the Habs deserved this event. It was their time and their show. And as worthy as it was, it was their MVP too.<br /><br />In my opinion, the best part of this whole weekend was during the main game, when time was taken out to acknowledge and showcase, live, some of the past Canadian greats. Kudos to Montreal and its great hockey heritage. Now that impressed me.<br /><br />I’ll tell you though, that no matter how much I complain about this NHL show piece there is one really major quality that is portrayed every single year. And that’s the camaraderie that these normally opposing combatants display during this weekend. They have fun together. Yessirree! I’m always impressed by this aspect of my favorite game. It isn’t just shown here but I tell ya to take a look sometime at the handshakes at the end of a Stanley Cup playoff series as the winning team advances and the loser sadly goes home. Sometimes to me, getting to see that handshake is just as important as seeing the game. This element of hockey is instilled in players from the time that they are kids and the mandatory handshake at the end of every game.<br /><br />There are those of you that don’t think too highly of this, but even in beer leagues, I never had a real problem partying along with vile opponents after the game. Not to say there wasn’t the occasional turd-ball that I’d just as soon wail on no matter the time or location. But that too is what makes this sport of hockey so great.<br /><br />NHL rivalries. They are the best. And that’s the part that goes omitted from the All Star games. That’s why this specific game lacks the polish that interests me.<br /><br />I don’t recommend that this game be scrapped but it sure lacks the luster of a regular season game and hands down is a loser to the Winter Classic. Now that is the best thing that the NHL has come up with in years next to reducing the size of goalie equipment. I love it!<br /><br />There, you’ve got my biased opinion of things important.<br /><br />So, here’s the shit that’s going on here.<br /><br />Last writing, I was invited to do some super sledding over at the hill on D-Pitty’s property. With my injury and all, you may recall, that I deemed it best to just watch. And that I did. Unbeknownst to me, D-Pitty had hired Stinky to groom some channels into the slope and iced them up almost to the point of becoming luge runs. Damn it all anyway if those makeshift sleds of Stinky’s didn’t just haul ass. On the Saturday afternoon that I went to watch, D-Pitty had gotten a hold of Jingles and Bronzy and had them invite all my kids on Norris’ Nightmares to join in the action. Now I don’t know if ya remember from last year that these slobagons that Stinky built were made from the halves of an RV’s holding tank and had partial goalie stick outriggers for steering and that one of these had fallen apart last year about killing us. Well, he beefed these babies up and they were the shit. Most of the kids brought their own gravity operated snow vehicles but opted to stand in line to ride Stinky’s slobagons. Damn I wished I’d a taken some movies of this blasted-ass good time. Would be a U-Tube hit, shit for sure. Luckily the bros recommended almost full hockey gear to anybody shooting the slope or we’d a been hauling kids to the hospital all afternoon.<br /><br />I’m telling you guys that you shoulda been there. Yup!<br /><br />I think it was Tuesday or Wednesday that the Sherriff stopped by to give me some news. He said that Tidwilly and the Wanker boys had done their time and were out of jail now. Said that Tidwilly, though, had been commissioned for another six months in a halfway house down in Winona and the Wanker boys had been furloughed to work for an uncle over in North Dakota. He said that it was just a warning, owed me and my bros that, even that these no-goods weren’t back in town you never can trust them to honor their obligations now that their out of the hoosegow. No telling that they might hookup together and show up around here to give us some trouble again. Well, we’ll see about that. I sure don’t need any trouble right now given the shape that I’m in.<br /><br />I gave the news to Jingles and Bronzy that same day. Jingles said that he’s gonna start carrying that Colt 45 replica that he got at Cabella’s and Bronzy said that he was sticking under the seat of his truck that Ruger 22 mag single six that Dad had given to him. Me, ahh yup, I ain’t in good shape but I think I can still swing a tire iron pretty good, so I’m keeping one handy in the pickup. Hope nothing comes of this but ya never know what those ass-wipes might do. I’ll have to fill D-Pitty in on this action. Don’t think he knows these boys or their nasty rep.<br /><br />What else???<br /><br />Oh yeah, really interesting game gonna be on TV Tuesday. Sharks against the Bruins. Should be good being played on Boston ice. Ha-ha and the Sharks have lost three in a row for the first time going into this.<br /><br />Damn, and what’s going on with that favorite team of mine, the LA Kings? Have they finally turned their game around? We’ll see, ehh.<br /><br />Well that’s it for today my puckbuddy friends.<br /><br />Jasper here calling it another one.<br /><br />Skate hard or get off the ice, ehh!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-28788371596103730862009-01-11T16:27:00.000-08:002009-01-11T16:28:19.699-08:00HOCKEY – ON THE TUBEGreetings, my puck buddies!<br /><br />Gee, doesn’t that sound like something Spock would have said on the old Star Trek TV series, ehh? What a hoot those old shows were. Cap’n Kirk always got the chick. I didn’t ever think about that until one evening a few years back, a young lady that I was dating told me so. It was right after a mighty fine evening, at that, where she kept saying “Way to go Captain”. As I gave her a ride home afterwards I finally asked her what she meant and she provided the simple explanation. Made me feel pretty good – musta been doing something right, for sure.<br /><br />Yeah, but Spock on the other hand would just raise an eyebrow in his quiet resourceful way and contemplate the situation as completely logical (or maybe illogical). He himself only getting off on some sort of Vulcan specific mind-meld of sorts. Well, whatever toots your horn is what I say. I myself though prefer to stir the pot if ya get my drift.<br /><br />Gosh durn if it isn’t already 2009. Ain’t that something, ehh? Getting as old as I fool am, I gotta tell ya, I managed to stay up this time to watch the old digital clock on the cable TV box flip over to 12:01. Yup, lots of these years lately I haven’t made it to that point in the evening. Pounding a six pack and some celebratory holiday hard stuff, all combubulated together, just pretty much knocks me on my ass anymore. But in my day, I’m telling ya, I could drink all a ya young whipper-snappers right under the table. And party my fool ass off, you betcha, finishing up every damn good-time evening before going home with some early morning breakfast at Denny’s – the Grand Slam, baby. Uh huh! I was always looking for a good time and any opportunity to get my drink on – didn’t have to be no New Years Eve party, no sirree.<br /><br />Eating, drinking, TV and turning into a lard-ass right now is all it seems that I’m doing. Being unemployed and recovering from that freakin brain injury has just about turned me into a turd. I need to get my ass out on the ice again and I mean soon.<br /><br />Damn! I really love hockey. That’s all there is to it. It’s the best dang sport in the world. In my day, the faster that it was and more physical that it was the better it was. Hell, the dirtier the better. And it didn’t matter if it was me and my boys or some opposing rascals that were pulling the high-jinx. It all made it better. That’s what folks mean when they refer to “old time hockey”. Yup, the rough stuff.<br /><br />Well if I can’t skate right now then I at least can watch a mess of it on the tube. Oh heck, that term is going to be phased out soon enough. All of my televisions are the type with picture tubes. They still work just fine so I’m not about to replace them anytime soon. Now I figure most a ya out there have TVs that are of the newer flat screen technology – LCD or plasma. So what term are we gonna use when “tube” gets retired? Makes ya wonder, ehh.<br /><br /> Since Christmas there sure has been a bunch of hockey to watch though. Gee, I got to see some of a Minnesota high school tournament going on down at the cities, parts of a college tourney coming out of Denver I think, some regular NHL games, the Winter Classic in Chicago (again another one of the best ideas from the NHL in ages), and best of all the World Junior Championships.<br /><br />I loved watching those national junior teams kicking it. Damn good hockey all around. Those boys, no matter which team, no matter the outcome – they’re all walking with wood for sure. Only draw back in my opinion, of course, is that they restrict them too much from dropping the gloves and really getting rough. Oh well, you can’t have it all. And as a second thought, punching face cages and half shields just ain’t really the same. Is it?<br /><br />Wayno “D-Pity” Studholm came by the cabin and watched the final with me between Canada and Sweden. It was an excellent game all the way around. Yup. It was more physical than most of the others that I had watched. I had seen Sweden play in a previous game and had really been quite impressed with their speed and play making skill. So I had been expecting quite a bit more from them. I was pretty much pulling for them, didn’t hurt that I’m half Swedish by my ancestral decent. I think that D-Pity might be one hundred percent Swedish, but I ain’t absolutely sure.<br /><br />So me and D-Pity are pounding the brews and munching on pizza that he brought over while watching the game. We’re cussing and screaming on occasion. High-fiving and such as was necessary to increase the entertainment value of the game. But damn if it didn’t seem that at about half way through the second period the Swedes just started to fuck-up. Well, not all of them. Just the forwards. It seemed to me that each forward didn’t realize that he was skating on a line with two other dudes. What I was seeing from the mid point on was a forward skating with the puck thinking that he could do it all and only working with his defensemen, but not with his line mates. It got so bad that it turned into one of those situations where I wished that I could pick up the phone and call the Swedish coach and tell him what was going on. Have him pull the boys in and give them the “what for” that they seemed to need.<br /><br />Damn though! It probably wouldn’t have done any good anyway if I could have gotten a call through because the Swedish coach didn’t look like he could understand English very well. And I sure for shit can’t speak a word of Swedish. Oh well, it just got a bit frustrating.<br /><br />But the game was still great to watch regardless of the victor and late poor play by the Swedes. The beer we drank was cold and the pizza hit the spot. D-pity was good to have around. Ya know, all those years where he just sort of had vanished off the face of the earth have just kinda melted away. It seems as though we’ve been best friends all along – never skipping a beat in our crazy lives. That’s good shit – having close buds and of course having puck buddies are the best, ehh.<br /><br />During one of the intermissions in the game I got up to take a leak and just a whole shit-load of pizza crumbs fell from my lap onto the floor. I commented, “Oh fuck! The honey’s gonna give me heck over that mess!” She’d gone over to her sister’s earlier to catch up on some gossip and watch a chick-flick that one of ‘em had rented, so she wasn’t around to keep the two of us in line.<br /><br />D-Pity saw the mess on the floor and started to get up, dumping some from his lap too, saying, “Jasper, I’ll clean this up, but it reminds me of something. I’ll tell you about my trip when you get back from pissing.”<br /><br />When I came back from the head, he was just dumping a dustpan full of pizza crumbs into the trash. We both sat back down and he grabbed the clicker and muted the tube.<br /><br />“Those crumbs reminded me of my trip to Cleveland a week or so before Christmas. I generally fly back there every other month or so for a couple of days. I’m majority owner of a business there and just like to stop in to meet with management and make sure everything is on track. It’s just one of the investments that I have from the money I got back then.”<br /><br />“I fly into Cleveland-Hopkins International Airport and always stay at the Holiday Inn down on Royalton Road. It’s near the airport, the factory and best of all an ice rink. Its pretty nice rink, the Hoover Arena, and only about two blocks from the Holiday Inn. They’ve got pickup games there on weeknights so I’ve got a set of gear that I keep in a locker at the factory and usually get in a game or two while I’m in town. It’s a good skate and I usually don’t have to get up too early any time when I’m in Cleveland. I schedule the times for meetings so I generally can get the skate in, some drinking after and then a good night’s sleep without messing anything up.”<br /><br />“So Jasper this no shit. I’m telling you the truth. This happened to me. I think it was a Tuesday night and I had gotten in a good game. Even scored a couple of goals. Afterwards a couple of the guys said they were going over to McCarty’s Ale House on Pearle for some brews. It’s pretty much just around the corner and I usually go there and tip a few with the guys. But that night I was feeling a little beat because my travel had originated in California that day instead of up here. Just had seemed like a long day already. So I went back to the hotel instead and stopped in their lounge, Vinney’s, for just one cold one before going up to my room. Most nights that I’m in town and not skating I’ll stop in here after dinner and chat with the bartender. Usually it’s pretty quiet, maybe a couple of other folks at the bar and a group or two at tables or the booths, but pretty subdued compared to McCarty’s.”<br /><br />“I’m about finished with my first brew and contemplating whether to take one up to my room when two ladies strolled in from the hotel lobby. One looks kinda skanky like a crack whore but the other one was a looker. She had a face and body like Jessica Biel but with kinky dark hair like Amy Irving. They started moving over to a booth when the cute one broke away and bounced off some tables coming up to the bar. I’m telling you Jasper, there was all kinds of space for her to stand at the bar but she squeezed in between me and the stool next to me and called to bartender. Then she sort of leaned away from me and gave me a good look. I could tell that she was looped but she had a sweet fragrance about her.”<br /><br />“The bartender came over and took her order and then she said to me ‘Hi.’ She twisted sideways and leaned into me and dropped her left hand in my lap trying to keep her balance. Then she said ‘You’re kinda cute’, and gave me a firm squeeze. There was no fumbling, it was quite apparent that her hand knew exactly what it was doing. Then she said to me ‘What do ya want to do, I’m feeling pretty good’, and smiled.”<br /><br />“I looked back at her friend, she was ignoring us and looked about ready to pass out in the booth. She looked over at her friend too and said ‘Fuck her, she’s been a bitch all night. Are you staying here? Lets go to your room.’”<br /><br />“I was there Jasper! This was like something you only fantasize about. I waved to the barkeep and told him to put it on my tab as I wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her to the elevator.”<br /><br />“Once we got up in my room we started to get down to it. A lot of passion and lot of heat. She got up after a while and found her purse and pulled a baggy out of it. I’m thinking ‘drugs’ and shit we don’t need that – not now. Before I know it she squeezes the baggy with both hands, then rips it open over the bed and dumps crumbs all over me and the bed. Before I know even know what the shit is she’s crawling all over me and the bed licking and sucking the crumbs up. All the while just sort of moaning ‘Mmmmm, graham crackers, mmmm I just love graham crackers, mmmm’ over and over again. Well, I’ll tell you, I wasn’t complaining even though that bed was an absolute mess. After a while, quite a while actually, she jumped up after looking at the clock radio on the nightstand and said ‘Oh shit, I gotta go. I gotta get Cindy home before her hubby gets off of night shift.’ She got herself dress and bolted.”<br />“Best night I’ve had in ages Jasper! Couldn’t believe it. Never even got her name.” <br /><br />“D-Pity, ya might be thinking that I think that that’s a pile a bullshit. Right? Crazy-ass as it sounds, that graham cracker mess and all, but I had something similar almost happen to me once.”<br /><br />“Wheats” he says, “you’re full of it. You’re so butt-ugly there isn’t any way that a looker like this woulda ever hit on you.”<br /><br />I returned with, “Yeah maybe now, cuz I’ve aged and my little lopsided body has shrunk a bit. But there was an evening after a late practice where two sweethearts came in the bar together. Course this was before I ever had met my honey. One chick was hot and the other not. The hotty pulled in between me and whoever the heck was sitting next to me at the bar and grabbed me a bit too. The other girl came over to the bar and pulled her friend away from me before anything more could transpire. Hell, who knows, it could have been crackers in bed for me that night too. Ya lucky son of a bitch.”<br /><br />With that, I threw an empty at him bouncing off of his shoulder.<br /><br />The intermission had about ended and the game was going to start back up.<br /><br />Wayno walked over and picked the can up and said “Ya know Jasper? Ya know? Maybe I believe you. Maybe I don’t. No biggie. Hey! You know we‘ve had enough snow now that those hills by the creek are probably ready for some radical sledding again. You think you and Stinky can come on out for some emergency room action again?”<br /><br />“Shit, that was such a blast last year. You’ll dig it big time D-Pity. But I think cuz of my brain injury that I’ll have to pass on it this whole winter but I’ll come out and watch you and Stinky hurt yourselves. Ha-ha!”<br /><br />And we got back to watching hockey on the tube. Sure glad that there’s still half of the regular season left to be played and then there’ll be the terrific second season ehh.<br /><br />Okee dokee! Jasper here flinging it until next time.<br /><br />Skate hard ya crazy-ass crunked out puckers.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-7440296003942216432008-12-27T15:38:00.000-08:002008-12-27T15:46:13.080-08:00HOCKEY ECONOMICSOh! Gee you guys, I’m just feeling so friggin rich right now. I’ve got moola squirtin outta my ass if you know what I mean. I’ve got so much shit I don’t know what to do with it. Could you use a little? I’ll send ya some. Just send me $9.95 to cover shipping and handling and it’ll be delivered on your door step before ya know it.<br /><br />Yah, I tried to sell “Fall Foliage” last year on the internet. It was one of my get rich quick schemes. All I had to do was rake it up outta the front yard and package it in 10 gallon trash bags. For $10.00 plus $9.95 to cover shipping and handling you could get your own sweet decorations just in time for Thanksgiving. What a deal, ehh? Including delivery, that’s less than two bucks a gallon. Cheaper than milk, until two weeks ago it was cheaper than gas. What a deal!<br /><br />I figured that I’d sell out my own yard pretty quick-like and then hire my services to extract these colorful decorations from the yards of folks in town. <br /><br />Of course it wasn’t just me, I hornswaggled my old pal and inventor extraordinaire Mr. Stinky Duval to assist with this golden opportunity. Stinky and I sat down towards the end of the summer last year and sorta planned the whole thing out. He a had a couple of industrial vacuums out at the junk yard that he had refurbished with bailing wire, duct tape and Shoe-Goo that we could attach to my yard tractor. Combining that with a hybrid snow blower he had converted we figured that we could harvest a hundred thousand worth of tree droppings in no time flat. Just gather it all up, haul it back to my place in our trucks and one of Stinky’s makeshift trailers, and repackage it out by the barn for shipping.<br /><br />I checked into the costs for fuel, trash bags, colorful and arty labels, shipping cartons, UPS, and of course internet expenses on ebay. All in all we figured that what we charged for gathering in town plus the shipping and handling fee would cover all of this. The ten bucks a pop would be our pay for doing all the work.<br /><br />Some things that we didn’t think about included the amount of dog doodoo that we had to separate out of our collection, the other useless and less than colorful fodder that got sucked up, and most importantly that maybe nobody was willing to buy our wonderful “Fall Foliage”. Needless to say we ended up with three piles of stuff out by the barn: one small pile of dog crap (that I have since hauled out into the woods and buried – it was really friggin putrid), a medium sized pile of twigs and other useless fodder, and one humongous pile of leaves that is still sitting there and here it is over a year later. The leaves have settled some but it’s still just as big as a hay mound.<br /><br />So now I’ve got Stinky trying to figure out a way to convert or compress the leaves and fodder into some sort a very solid cylindrical shape so that we could market the stuff as fireplace logs. Who knows, we maybe could be successful some day.<br /><br />And then this past fall we had whole bunch a folks that wanted to hire us again to clean their yards. Being pretty pissed off about the whole thing we of course turned ‘em all down. Based on the volume of calls though, it makes me think that we hadn’t charged enough anyway to do the jobs last year.<br /><br />So Christmas 2008 has now come and gone. The economic situation in the world and especially here in the back woods is just about as smelly as that pile of dog crap I buried. Yup! Kinda sucks. So a get rich quick scheme would suit me just fine.<br /><br />If you aren’t having problems right now, well kudos to you my friend.<br /><br />How’s this all going to affect hockey? Well, things might change for a while.<br /><br />I mentioned recently how the triumphant success of Gretzky in the ‘80’s and 90’s had recently created a growth in hockey. Because he ended up playing in Los Angeles it created a lot of growth there. We also have seen the former North Stars moved to Dallas and several other NHL teams have created homes in locations not conducive to natural ice hockey. These being Phoenix, Florida, North Carolina, Atlanta, Nashville, etc.<br /><br />So your saying “Jasper, what ya mean ‘conducive to natural ice hockey’?“<br /><br />Well, I’m talking about pond hockey, of course. The cheap kind of hockey!<br /><br />Pond hockey is the fundamental, grass roots form of the game we love. It might be on a neighborhood pond, a flooded area in a community park, or a gosh-for-durn big old lake. Is pond hockey organized? Yup there are generally respected rules like maybe no lifts over the knees, no slapshots, no checking, take it behind your own net after a goal, etc. But is it ‘overwhelmingly organized’? No way! That’s what makes it so pure. <br /><br />Probably the most organized version of pond hockey occurs in the various regional tournaments that are held. Bronzy, Woody and some of the other Outlaws are heading over to Eagle River, Wisconsin for the Labatt Blue 2009 Pond Hockey Tournament starting on February 13th. As of this writing, they have over 200 teams already signed up. Four to six man teams, no goalies, and a minimum of three games guaranteed. Now that’s organized. Bring on the brews, ehh! And ya know it’s gonna be colder than poop over there, but that’s the spirit of good pond hockey. Brings out some good color in your cheeks.<br /><br />But pond hockey can be nothing more than a game of shinny, two on two; to maybe as big as two pickup teams of ten each with even goalies in the net. But often times there are no goalies, just the nets tipped over or a couple of boots set out to shoot between, and no more than a line each side because everyone wants to skate instead of standing around getting frostbit.<br /><br />The equipment for pond hockey ends up being a little different too. Generally, you’re never in full gear. If ya have a helmet on, then it’s been adjusted so you can where a stocking cap under it. If you’re gonna be out there for a long time then your gloves might be big enough to wear knit gloves inside of but more than likely you’re wearing big old leather mittens with heavy knit wool liners. Shin pads? For sure, but over your best and warmest long johns. And your skates, they might be size or two bigger than you’d use in an indoor rink because again, you’re wearing something thick and warm – on your feet inside of what ya lace up. The skates won’t be as sharp as you’d have them for perfect indoor use. Nope, no point in that.<br /><br />Yep, when your playing pond hockey, there’s a good chance you might not be wearing as much gear. It’s more economical than club hockey, that’s for sure. Shit throw out those club dues, ehh. I checked around a bit and if you were playing at the Midget or Junior level in Rochester, MN it would cost ya $645 for the season. The same thing down in Southern California costs ya about $950. Good old neighbor hood pond hockey – zip! And ya can’t play that in Tampa Bay or Anaheim can ya?<br /><br />So it doesn’t cost a bunch to play pond hockey. And if the pond is near enough to a bunch of houses that can shoot flood lights out there, you just might be able to play out there every night, not to speak of all weekend long. Sure, finding an errantly passed puck is a bit of a bitch at night, but it ain’t no piece of cake during the day either depending upon what type of snow you’ve got surrounding your playing surface.<br /><br />So these kids that want to start playing hockey in the southern regions are up against some financial road blocks. And like I said with the economy hitting the skids its only going to be more cumbersome to their folks. And will all of the southern youth leagues survive? Don’t know. Will the rinks survive? Again I don’t know.<br /><br />I dug into the economics of suiting up a player for league play. Below I present the cost of gear showing low end to high end for an approximately fourteen year old male player (non-goalie) with new equipment (in the northern regions there are countless places to purchase good used equipment with considerable discounts – this is not readily available to players in the southern belt area of the USA) using a wooden stick (yup – gotta be walking with wood). These are internet prices (USD) and I don’t indicate the store location or brand. Anyway, you’ll be able to see ice hockey isn’t cheap (and again, you’re saying “Well I coulda told ya that Jasper”). So here it is – in your face:<br /><br />Helmet $30 to $150<br />Cage $23 to $130<br />Mouth Guard $3 to $34<br />Shoulder Pads $30 to $120<br />Elbow Pads $16 to $75<br />Gloves $40 to $200<br />Jersey $12 to $300<br />Long Johns $8 to $35<br />Cup/Shorts w/Cup $10 to $50<br />Pants/Breezers $30 to $135<br />Shin Pads $25 to $105<br />Socks $10 to $25<br />Skates $48 to $650<br />Gear Bag $20 to $125<br />Wooden Stick $13 to $85<br />Roll of Tape $2 to $4<br /><strong>TOTAL $320 to $2226<br /></strong><br />Wow! That’s not cheap, ehh! And some of this stuff you have to buy every year because the kid outgrows it. Some things last damn near forever – like shoulder pads (of course they end up smelling pretty ripe and that can be used as a defensive tactic – if nothing more than securing bench space in the locker room). And of course I didn’t include an undershirt, suspenders, garter belt, skate socks, or this or that doodad that ya just have to have. If ya belong to club team add the cost of dues; numbers, names and logos on the jersey and maybe the helmet; travel costs and refreshments. It all adds up.<br /><br />Because of this and the situation with our economy will we see a major reduction in organized club hockey? I think so. And even the great play of Sidney Crosby and his super skilled teammate Evgeni Malkin, or putting all of the Staal brothers on the ice at once will not help this forthcoming skid.<br /><br />Yep that neighborhood pond sounds like a good deal. Wish I had one in my backyard, uh-huh.<br /><br />Maybe I should figure out how to market pond hockey in Florida, ehh. Could be my get rich scheme. Or maybe not. Seems as though they’ve got outdoor roller hockey. Is it the same as freezing your nookies off playing pond hockey? Uh-uh, I don’t think so. Don’t want to rag on that perspective of our sport, but it’s not even close.<br /><br />In closing I say this to all of my crazed out puck buddies – skate hard always, and play pond hockey as often as you can. Use it or lose it.<br /><br />Jasper here until next time.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-57274241808264518922008-12-18T12:28:00.000-08:002008-12-18T12:39:04.058-08:00DUCT TAPE CHRISTMASI didn’t actually write this myself. I did edit it a bit to keep it aligned with my other tales though. I’m told that it is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. It won first prize.<br /><br />As a joke, my brother Jingles used to hang a pair of pantyhose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. Yeah, right, you guys, he needed a skirt and pantyhose would just get in his way.<br /><br />What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jingles’ kids' stockings overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty. Needless to say those pantyhose had also gotten a little groaty over the years.<br /><br />One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and an old Outlaws jersey and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. No sirreee! I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. (Actually I had to go down to the Cities cuz there shit as shit ain’t any store like that around here.)<br /><br />If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there like an hour or so saying things like, 'What does this do?' 'You're fuckin kidding me, ehh?' 'Who would buy that?' ‘No way, you guys actually sell this shit?’<br /><br />Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.<br /><br />I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane when I drive down in the Cities sometimes during rush hour. Or maybe we could put her in the nets when we needed a goalie during pickup, ehh.<br /><br />Finding what I wanted was difficult. 'Love Dolls' come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Anna Nickel, the Gal with the Big Nips.' She was at the bottom of the price scale, or so I was told, but it still cost me an arm and a leg to get out of the damn store – of course I had to get something for myself too. Now hush your mouth you degenerate fools.<br /><br />To call Anna Nickel a 'doll' took a huge leap of imagination.<br /><br />So anyway on Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Anna Nickel came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours (well it was late and I had been kicked out of the bar because they closed early on Christmas Eve). Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose (yeah “dangling” like Crosby douching your defensemen) with Anna Nickel's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. Damn near threw up cuz I’ll tell ya that warm milk really stirs up a gut full a beer.<br /><br />Anyway, I went on home, and giggled and puked for a couple of hours.<br /><br />The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy, but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. Damn good thing old pooch didn’t sniff and lift a leg, ehh.<br /><br />We all agreed that Anna Nickel should remain in her pantyhose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.<br /><br />My grandmother noticed Anna Nickel the moment she walked in the door. 'What the hell’s bell is that?' she asked. (They say that my gutter mouth comes from her side of the family – Norwegian-Irish mix the mongrel bitch is!)<br /><br />Jingles quickly explained, 'It's a doll.'<br /><br />'Who would play with some kinda shit thing like that?' Granny snapped. I kept my mouth shut but my gut was about to bust.'Where are her clothes? Is she supposed to be some kind of floozy doll or what?' Granny continued.<br /><br />'Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran,' Jingles said, to steer her into the dining room.<br /><br />But Granny was relentless. 'Why doesn't she have any teeth? Crappininee Jasper boy” as she turned towards me, “Barbie dolls don’t even have tits that big'<br /><br />Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted Granny to flash her floppy ones again this year!<br /><br />My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, ' Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?'<br /><br />I told him she was Jingles’ friend.<br /><br />A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Anna Nickel. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home. Yup, might have to put him off the farm next year.<br /><br />The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Anna Nickel made a noise like Pops doing his dooty in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the mantel, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.<br /><br />The cat screamed.<br /><br />I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Didn’t know he knew how to do that shit. Nope!<br /><br />Jingles fell back over his chair and wet his pants.<br /><br />Granny threw down her napkin, flashed her sagumsush love sacks at her kneeling husband and stomped out of the room to sit in the car with a half-gone bottle of gin.<br /><br />It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.<br /><br />Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Anna Nickel’s collapse. We discovered that she had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.<br /><br />Fortunately, thanks to some all purpose and ever ready duct tape that Jingles dug out of his hockey bag, we restored her to perfect health.<br /><br />I can't wait until next Christmas.<br /><br />Have a good one gang!<br /><br />Jasper here just walking with wood again.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-12182249307030961692008-12-15T16:10:00.000-08:002008-12-15T16:20:26.618-08:00SOMETHING DIFFERENTChristmas is almost here and I have decided to write about it more so than the humor of hockey in this edition of my blog.<br /><br />For those of you that don’t really know me, my real name is Bob O’Dea. I currently live in California along Interstate 80 between Sacramento and San Francisco. You can find me on myspace where my tag is Hockey Bob. If you’re a member on myspace then you can send me messages or comments there and I’ll usually respond. If you want you can email me at <a href="mailto:hoduhn@sbcglobal.net">hoduhn@sbcglobal.net</a> also. Again, I’ll usually respond.<br /><br />But the humor of hockey is usually my trade in words. I’ve lived in places where this sport can be played on frozen ponds as well as the indoor rinks that are so prevalent now days. There are rinks all over the place now and I believe that we can thank the superstardom of the Great One for the growth of hockey over the past two decades and of course the current cream of the crop hasn’t hurt anything as I now write this.<br /><br />So Christmas – this is the celebration of the birth of Christ our savior. It is a Christian celebration. Yup, that includes me. Check out my page on myspace. It says that I am and I certainly don’t deny it.<br /><br />“What?” you're saying. “Hockey Bob, the writer of Jasper Wheats stories and all that tom foolery and swearing; he can’t be a Christian. No sirree!”<br /><br />Well truth be told I sure am. Handed myself over to the Lord back in the seventies. And ever since than, this season has inspired me immensely. Much more so than the decorations, trees, lights, Santa Clause and gift giving ever can. Those are all nice things mind ya but they are so much more so if we remember and acknowledge the reason why we celebrate.<br /><br />I said that Christmas is a Christian celebration. It is for sure, but Christ, who we celebrate, is for everyone. With this in mind I just really want to wish all of my readers to have a really great and Merry Christmas.<br /><br />I say bah humbug to that ridiculous “politically correct” requirement of not using this terminology. I’m not trying to stuff my religion down anyone’s throat. I’m just trying to share my joy of the season with all of you great folks regardless of your personal beliefs.<br /><br />Enjoy it. Love it. And hopefully don’t turn your nose up because of it.<br /><br />So there are a lot of things going on where folks are celebrating this season. This is not just in my neck of the woods, but yours to I’m sure. So get out there and be entertained and enjoy the things being offered.<br /><br />Saturday, my honey and I went downtown to our little community center and got to see some very, very young kids performing some Christmas songs and dance numbers. So much joy and so much fun for all involved. And then last night we got to see Faith Hill singing just a whole bunch of my Christmas favorites. What a beauty and what a great voice! Kinda makes my heart all purr like a great big old fuzzy pussy cat.<br /><br />Our church has a children’s Christmas program. We’ve been to these just for the joy of them. Our own grandkids our clear across the country and we will miss them dearly again this year. Don’t miss your kids’ programs.<br /><br />I’ve been through the malls and have seen all the decorations and the folks shopping.<br /><br />Nice!<br /><br />And I’ve driven through the neighborhoods and have seen how the yards are decorated and the houses are all lit up. Hmmm … doesn’t seem to be as many of them this year. Our lights aren’t going up – a little tough on my financial status this year – but it’ll get better. I have faith!<br /><br />So maybe it’s a tough time for you this year too, or maybe for someone you know. Don’t let it get you down. Put a smile on your face anyway. You’d be surprised how much that will lift the spirits of others that get to see that smile. And give someone a hand. Volunteer yourself to someone less fortunate. It will warm your heart!<br /><br />And if ya really want to have a blast you can always organize a group of folks to go around singing Christmas carols in your neighborhood. Don’t worry if you’re like me and can’t carry a note. So what. It just gives ya something more to laugh about between houses, ehh.<br /><br />Last year we visited a house in the Sacramento area that had just scads of lights all synchronized with a computer to Christmas songs. It was a blast to see this, but I wonder, did the people that arranged it really know what they were celebrating? I sure hope so.<br /><br />Well it’s tough to close a Christmas tale, but I’ve got to now anyway.<br /><br />The Sheriff came by yesterday and said that Tidwilly and the Wanker boys were going to get released from the county lock-up later this week. Great, I’m thinking – just in time for Christmas. Sure hope that they don’t act up like the toads that they did last year.<br /><br />Ok you guys!<br /><br />Have a Merry Christmas!<br /><br />And skate hard all of you sweet little puckers!<br /><br />Jasper WheatsWalking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-52829770563890411242008-12-02T12:10:00.000-08:002008-12-02T12:20:27.317-08:00GETTING TRASHEDWell, we’re into the Holiday season for this year. Thanksgiving is just over and Christmas now is less than a month away with New Years following a week later. It’s a good time of year to celebrate with family and friends, ehh? With hockey season in full swing it’s the durn burn best time of the year!<br /><br />Reminds me of a time way back now. Can’t say for sure what year it was but I was still taking my bruises while skating with the original Outlaws. Both Jingles and Bronzy were skating with me so it must a been the early 80’s.<br /><br />We had a really good team back then. After my bro’s joined the team and some of their former team mates from youth hockey had also, we just seemed to kick shit with regularity. It was a good time, shit for sure! We were rowdy, nasty and skilled. We had jelled this season after being just a smidgen on the loosey-goosey side the season before.<br /><br />As it was, and is typical of most amateur seasons, in the previous season the league had shut down for about three weeks surrounding Christmas and New Years. There was the occasional shinny and pond hockey sessions to get involved with but most of us got together on the off nights and drank our fool asses off; whining about the lack of competitive play during this idle stretch. And of course the lack of strange tang to conquer here in the backwoods of the far north.<br /><br />On one particular night, before he got just snockered, Woody boasted loudly “Next season ya fuck heads, were gonna go to a Holiday tournament. I seen in an advertisement over to Ole’s Skate Shop that they’ve got tournaments in Denver, Florida, and California every year during Christmas break. We gonna do this next year or what? Ehh?” He raised his mug and we all clinked in and immediately yelled for several more pitchers of the suds.<br /><br />To cover a lot a ground quickly, we held Woody to it. He was and still is really great at organizing shit and got us set up in a tournament in Southern California. We were guaranteed four games minimum and a trip to see the Rose Parade as part of the package.<br /><br />It took us almost two days to get there with all the connecting flights and layovers. Nothing but a continuous drunk for all of us along the way. Woody had booked some especially cheap flights; mainly on airlines that ain’t no longer in business now-a-days.<br /><br />We were all booked into a Super 8 hotel in some town north of the freeway and we had rented two passenger vans for the eleven of us that went. That was two full lines and Guy, our goalie. We had four rooms: One with four guys sharing, two with three, and one for Guy by himself (Shit, everybody knows ya can’t room with a goalie, right? – They’re just too fuckin nuts). There was a bar right next door, Lucky Johns I think, as was a liquor store and a Denny’s was a few blocks away with some burger and taco joints within walking distance. We were set as set can be. Bought some cases and filled the tub up in one of the rooms so that we could continue being just absolutely trashed.<br /><br />We had to check in for the tournament and get our schedules. Our first game was the next afternoon at 2:00 pm at the Ice Capades Chalet. Sign-in was at Klondike, a nice cold rink, NHL size it looked like, with only glass at the ends. So we got directions to the other rink a couple a miles away and went over to it to check it out too. Both rinks were about five miles from the hotel and as they say out there in California, “Freeway close”.<br /><br />Ice Capades Chalet, ehh? Oh what a little piece of shit this place was. Not even full size, but I’ve played on pond ice that was smaller, so we decided to quit griping. But it had no glass at all, just fishnet, no defined benches or penalty box, and the friggin far side from the entrance and one end had brick above the boards with protruding pilasters. We were told that special rules applied and any real physical contact along these areas would end up in boarding calls. Shit it looked like panty waste hockey in this rink, ehh. Plus the damn place smelled like old vomit, ammonia, the refrigeration system must leak a bit we figured.<br /><br />We stuck around for a bit watching a B division game between a local team and a team that had come down from Iowa or somewhere. We chatted with locals and they said that there was a fair bar outside and around the corner of the building, Bilbo Baggins. They said that Friday and Saturday nights were pretty good for chicks and that the place had a band. We gave it a look see and pounded a few drafts. They had an outdoor court and if you left your drink at your table you could walk a couple a yards over to windows that overlooked one end of the rink. Not bad. Not bad at all.<br /><br />Woody’s slurring his words by now, he’s pretty tossed as are most of us or getting there anyway. Shit we’ve been drinking solid for almost three days now. Woody tells us that he got directions for a bar and grill at the beach where we could get some grub, drink schooners and check out the Pacific Ocean. So we piled into the vans and headed off to Newport Beach, I think it was, to this beach-boy bar called Mutts or something like that.<br /><br />Yep, it was right on the boardwalk. Not summer mind ya but a nice afternoon and a lot of California girls to check out as they walked by or came in to the bar.<br /><br />Sweet! Not in bikinis this time of the year, but they were fucking hot.<br /><br />Eggman scored and said he’d get back to the hotel on his own. Me, not a chance in hell. Being short, lopsided and about as handsome as a horse’s ass I have generally accepted that all I ever get to do is look at the honeys.<br /><br />So we’re all really toasted now. Woody decided to walk down to the water so most of us went along. He only fell flat on face three times. I stumbled once myself. Perdy-near cocked, I was. The second time, Woody gets up and pftts about like Elmer Fudd then lets us know that the sand tastes salty. We get down to the water, its past dusk now, and we can see lights on boats somewhere out on the ocean. Woody whips out his noodle to take a little drizzle and leans back to take it all in and falls over backwards. Pisses all over himself, he does.<br /><br />Keats, driver of one of the vans says, “Fuck he ain’t riding back with us all pissed up like that. Guy, he’s gonna ride in your van. Probably smells like your gear anyway and you guys won’t notice the difference. Somebody help him up and let’s head back to the hotel.”<br /><br />Jet lag and all had apparently set in as there was no argument from anyone as we shuffled through the sand back to the parking lot back by Mutts. I don’t know how we found our way back to the hotel and damn surprised that we didn’t get pulled over. Hell of a lot of traffic out there!<br /><br />The next day we got up at varying times. In each room we had shook out the top mattresses on the floor; that way everybody had a spot to sack out by themselves and didn’t have to crash queer. Gave us all a chance to sleep reasonably well except for the guys crashed by the head that we all had to stumble over when it was time to whiz during the night.<br /><br />We got our shit together the next day to play our first game. Eggman showed up at the start of the second period with the babe he’d hung with from the day before. Said he was too hung over to play. Woody just looked back at him and then threw up on his own skates and said “Fuck you, Scotty, we’re all hung over.” We won that game seven to five with no mishaps. Had a few beers at Bilbo Baggins and I drove one of the vans back to the hotel with guys that wanted to crash for a bit. Our next game was at 10:00 am the next morning and then we had our third scheduled for that same night with about thirty-six hours before our fourth game was scheduled. Tournament play, that’s how it goes sometimes.<br /><br />We went back to Bilbo’s later that night and closed the place. And in the morning we were shit for shaky playing in the ten o’clock game at Klondike. I think our opponents had played the night before at Ice Capades and had helped us close the place. They played like shit and were puking all over the ice. Lightweights! We beat them ten to nothing or something. Pounded some brews in the parking lot then all headed back to the hotel to rest up for our evening game.<br /><br />Keats is driving again in the van I’m in as we head for our third game. He plays D like me and originally hails from the New York City area. Married to a real cat-lady, with a pair of hooters and a hell of a accent. She don’t sound backwoods at all. No sirree! He’s a Rangers fan to the max but wears an Islander’s jacket out of respect for his inlaws that gave it to him a few years back. Woody’s riding shotgun and giving us a pep talk along the way. Eggman’s riding in the other van so that Woody doesn’t chew him a new ass-hole. Seems as though Bronzy is in this van too and I know Jingles is because he’s sitting behind me and keeps grabbing my shoulders shaking me and saying “Come on Jasper, gotta get ya hopped up and the adrenaline flowing! You gotta kick some ass tonight!” Not real sure who else was in this van but we were loud. There was not time for solace in our pain and weariness. Nope. We were jiving!<br /><br />Guy drove the other van and they got to the rink about five minutes after us. Ice Capades Chalet again. After I dropped my gear inside I went back out in the parking lot. Guy was just pulling his gear outta the back so I offered to help carry some of it in. I grabbed his pads. Oh fuck were they heavy. Old style goalie pads. Leather, stuffed with horsehair and some other shit, but soaked through and through. No wonder they were so heavy, he hadn’t had a chance to get them dry. Goalies, I’m telling you they’re nuts cuz his pads musta weighed about thirty or forty pounds each. How do ya move in that shit????<br /><br />The game ahead of us as I recall had about a period to go. I found their snack machines and got a Snicker bar and a double shot a sugared up coffee. Needless to say I had the jitters and this was gonna peak those. Probably give me a pre-game shit fest too. I’d rather play light anyway. You guys know what I mean, ehh?<br /><br />In the dressing room Collin and Woody are pounding beers. Rat’s got his helmet and long johns on, just sitting there with clasped hands. He says to nobody in particular “I kinda like it here. I think I’ll stay after the tourney’s over. Look in to buying some property.” Didn’t figure he’d have his head in the game, ehh. Spaced out somewhere else. Robby’s all geared up already standing outside the doorway, chewing on his mouth guard, holding both sticks together with both hands up near the knobs, his helmet sitting sort of sideways not fastened and just rocking forward and back on his skates.<br /><br />Pregame rituals ehh. You’ve got yours, we’ve got ours.<br /><br />So we’re playing against the Flin Flon Sturgeons, a group of big boys from the border of Saskatchewan and Manitoba hailing from the Flin Flon and Sturgeon Lake region. Sheesh, if it took us two days to get down here, I wonder how many days their trip was? They iced three forward lines and two sets of defense. They all looked like lumber jacks. Paul Bunyan had nothing on these guys. The only thing advantages for us in my eyes was that they mostly skated like they had clogged up work boots on. A wittle swuggish wookin if ya know what I meeeeaaannnnn.<br /><br />Jingles takes the first draw between Bronzy and Collin. Keats and McCloskey on defense. The bastard breaks Jingles’ stick at the drop of the puck so Jingles comes up with both gloves empty handed into his chin and drops him before the ref can figure out what happened, then skates to the bench for a new twig. No penalties called but the tempo is set for the rest of the game.<br /><br />The big boys are up on us two to nothing at the end of the first. Woody takes the draw to start the third with Rat and Robbie as his wings. Me and Keith are taking the blue line.<br /><br />Woody’s shorter that me, you know. And the big old oof comes over the top of him on the faceoff and tries to squish him into the ice like ya’d spread butter on bread. Keith had move forward quickly to the face off dot and sprayed the asshole in the face as he stopped. The puck squirted back between the two us and Guy came out to clear it up to Rat as I circled through Keith position. Rat skated up the boards then crossed over center feeding Woody breaking through Rat’s wing position once he finally un-buried his face from the ice. Rat went crazy – all the way across to the opposite wing while Robby drove to the net.<br /><br />Woody had crossed the blue line with the puck still on the boards and drew two of the Sturgeon towards him as he dropped to Keith on the point. Keith took the one timer and Robbie tipped it home. We were on the scoreboard.<br /><br />We’re just twenty to twenty-five seconds into the period so we stayed out for the drop. Skating with only two lines we were used to going two to three minutes stop time between shifts. Nuts, but it works and keeps the lines tight and together throughout a game. None of that thirty to forty-five second shifts like in the NHL.<br /><br />This time Rat moves over to center to take the draw cuz he’s about a foot taller than Woody. Keith and Robby cheat while Woody, the little fire hydrant that he is, inches almost to the boards at the drop. I shifted over almost center ice and again the puck came out of the faceoff right up center where I hit Woody as I crossed the blue line and he was almost crossing into their zone. Again Robby made a b-line towards the net but this time got taken out by both defensemen at once and they all went down in pile to right side of the slot. Woody had open ice to the net, deked left and went high on the right side. It beat the goalie but caught the cross bar and dropped down into the crease. Woody twisted and stuffed it tweeners on his backhand and immediately slapped ass-first against the boards to the right of the net and raised his stick in triumph.<br /><br />The Sturgeon goalie threw his stick at Woody and got two minutes.<br /><br />We took a seat. One shift … two goals … all tied up.<br /><br />Jingles and crew come out to take the faceoff on the power play at center ice. The Sturgeon are slapping at the sticks of Bronzy and Collin working for position. Jingles pulls it back to Keats who circles back behind our net. He hits Collin along the boards on the inside faceoff circle who again circles behind the net and hits Bronzy just inside our blue who taps it to Jingles who had circled in and was now breaking hard across our blue line with Keats jumping up on Bronzy’s side and Collin opposite. Jingles side steps a hit from his right side and hits Keats on the fly with a crisp little snap. Keats bobbles it in his feet and has to look down for a sec and just gets clocked.<br /><br />Along the far boards, you betcha! Face first right into one of the protruding brick pilasters. Pealed the skin on his forehead like lifting a pancake off a grill. The ref’s blowing his whistle for boarding and Jingles is in this hitter’s face and has got his stick up across this dude’s neck.<br /><br />Keats has dropped to the ice, knocked out cold and bleeding like a stuck pig. A linesman is signaling for help from our bench and we all jump on the ice.<br /><br />One of the Flin Flon boys (come to find out that it was the twin brother of the guy Jingles is throttling) grabs Jingles from behind around his neck and tries to wedge him off. Jingles backs down enough to drop his right glove and grabs the helmet off the guy behind him, continues to hold that guy’s head, drops a shoulder while backing off from the first guy and sweeps his leg out and rolls the second guy right over him like a WWF move. In the mean time Bronzy is getting thrown over the boards by some other big clown on the near side of the ice. Shit he only weight about 145 lbs back then. Collin in the mean time is back on the guy that hit Keats and the whole rest of the team is across ice to the area of the original infraction. All this time McCloskey has got some forward by the top of his jersey, holding him with his left hand, head down, and just wailing with his right on this ugly dude’s face.<br /><br />First, the Sturgeon serving the goalie’s penalty jumped on the ice to join the fracas and all the rest from their bench followed. Guy and their goalie were going at good and you could hear the French cussing just ripping off of Guy’s lips.<br /><br />It was major mayhem as the remainder of the two benches met. Gloves dropped everywhere. My nose got busted on the second or third punch. We were outnumbered two to one in some cases and the officials couldn’t do anything to stop it. Needless to say we were absolutely getting trashed by these big fuckin lumberjacks.<br /><br />At one point in this melee I saw that Robby had jumped up on some Sturgeon’s back and had wrapped his legs, skates and all, around the dude and was just wailing on the back of the cat’s neck to no avail.<br /><br />I’m still swingin, Jingle’s is still swingin, Keith’s bloodied one guy but looked like a Steven King’s Carry with massive amounts of blood running down over his face too. Collin’s got two guys on him and he’s face down in the ice just getting pulverized. Rat looks like he’s knocked out flat on his back and Woody now has someone chasing him.<br /><br />I look over to the boards, between swings, where Bronzy had been tossed and see him climbing back over but also notice that a bunch of spectators have jumped over the boards too. They’re mostly players from other teams, probably, ya know, but in street shoes the ice wasn’t too friggin delicate with them. They were slipping and sliding trying to get over to break this shit up but half of them had upended bouncing off of their fool noggins.<br /><br />After about five minutes, I guess, we all cooled down. Somebody had called an ambulance for Keats and after about twenty minutes they were wheeling him away.<br /><br />The ref called the game. The tournament host tossed us and the boys from Flin Flon out of the tournament without being able to complete any more games and no refund. Woody argued against this with no success. Yup!<br /><br />“Read your tournament agreement. You signed it as did each of your players. You Outlaws are nothing but a bunch backwoods henchmen as far as I’m concerned. Same for the Sturgeons. And forget about bussing up to the Rose Parade – OUT OF THE QUESTION!”<br /><br />Far from home. Same kinda results. Old time hockey to the max. We maybe didn’t win the tournament but we sure for shit weren’t lick our wounds either. We’re Outlaws and we’re walking with wood. Yessirree!<br /><br />I know that we had a few days yet before our flights home so we hung out and got trashed every night. Gave some time for the swelling of Keats forehead to go down and for the stitches and repairs by the doctor to start taking effect. His old lady was sure gonna give him a going over when he got home. He flat ass knew it.<br /><br />New Years Eve was started at the bar next to the hotel, Lucky Johns, but they had reservations starting at 10:00 pm for some biker party or something so we bailed from there and went down to the small rink and Bilbo Baggins. The little honey that Eggman had nailed showed up with some of her friends and we all hung together for the night. One little chubby sweetheart was sitting next to me at midnight and she gave me a big old hug and kiss as we brought in the new year. Dabnabit if that wasn’t enough coaxing that we went out to the parking lot together a little bit later for some more making out and extracurricular activity that ended us up in the middle seat of the van that I just so happened to have the keys to.<br /><br />As we had finished up our first round and were heading back to get some more drinking in we met Collin with a honey hanging on to him heading out. Collin said, “Wheats you old toad. What’s ya up to? Say ya got the keys to the van? Let me borrow them for a bit.”<br /><br />Hell, it was a damn good night! I don’t remember too much more. Just a hell of a hangover the next day and getting razzed by the guys that my date last night had been about as homely as cold wet dog. Yeah well I got some and I know that over half of them didn’t. They were just more interested in getting trashed.<br /><br />And me? Yeah, that too, but while walking with wood ehh!<br /><br />Jasper here until next time.<br /><br />Enjoy these times ….<br /><br />And skate hard my friends!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-39637650959322147182008-11-22T15:37:00.000-08:002008-11-22T15:43:58.604-08:00Dumb 1Writing hockey humor is oft times not an easy task. The words, sometimes, just don’t magically appear on paper in some sort of fluid motion going from brain to fingertips to keyboard to computer screen to printed copy; not ending in an organized hodgepodge of fibbery and convoluted fact for your reading enjoyment.<br /><br />Sometimes the monitor or computer screen doesn’t work because I’ve kicked the cord under my desk and disconnected it from one end or the other.<br /><br />Or sometimes the keyboard doesn’t work for the same ridiculous reason caused by my friggin little feet. I’ve even had an individual key go bad and have had to replace the keyboard – bucks outta my pocket with no reward for the free effort I provide.<br /><br />Blooyee!<br /><br />This week, I even had the power receptacle on the back of my laptop go south and so you are getting this trashy tale from my seldom used desktop – hence the use of a plugged in monitor and keyboard, ehh.<br /><br />Ah, yes … those fingers. Smashed from hockey, too cold and un-limber from being outside for too long without my mitts on, and Lord forbid arthritic conditions that might have set in due to my grand old age. These too might slow me down in my skill to weave a short tale for your delight.<br /><br />But ….<br /><br />Yes, but … the most debilitating factor in creating a fictitious pile of shit, my friends, is a malfunction of my puny little pea brain.<br /><br />Yup!<br /><br />I blame it on my <em>muse</em> so much of the time. But you can only take that so far. It’s my brain’s lack of horsepower in the imagination department. Of course it could be that I haven’t been on the ice for some time now. Or it could be that I haven’t just totally gotten crunked for bit too.<br /><br />So shit! What do you do when you’re having an intense duration of brain farts?<br /><br />Ya reach for your trusty word book and choose some possible words that you could use for the theme or subject of today’s story.<br /><br />I picked five different words to choose from for today. I figure that one of them, I’ll be able to horse up enough with humor and hockey to make it worth publishing. You know I’ve got to! That’s it, plain and simple, or I ain’t Jasper Wheats and I ain’t walking with wood. Ehh?<br /><br />The five words that I randomly picked were:<br /><br />1) Methodology – means: a system of methods or the underlying rules or principles of a procedure or system – Kinda like running the left wing lock the Devils were so notorious for using.<br /><br />2) Atrium – means: the central room that an ancient Roman house was built around. Or the main chamber of the heart – Damned if I can think of how this could be the theme of a bullshit hockey story.<br /><br />3) Satyrasis – means: abnormal or excessive sexual craving in a male – unfounded in my belief, the male of our species is a friggin horndog to the max all of the time – this is not abnormal nor excessive but could certainly be applied to any yarn spun by <strong><em>walking with wood</em></strong> Jasper Wheats. Ehh!?!?<br /><br />4) Derogatory – means: tending to lessen the reputation or merit of a thing or person – Sean Avery gets in your face, knocks you off your pace and shoots a puck in your space behind that pissed off goalie’s back.<br /><br />5) Tomahawk – means: a hand axe used as a throwing or chopping weapon; to cut, kill or strike with a tomahawk – yup, there’s a couple of those on the Blackhawks shoulder emblem ain’t there?<br /><br />Ok, so I provided ya with some definition’s too. Nothing wrong with a little edumacation along the way to makin ya chuckle. I’ve taught a college class or two over the years and figure that you, my reader, could use some learnin once in a while.<br /><br />Now for some donuts. A writer needs donuts … or cinnamon rolls … or cookies and coffee … or pretzels and beer to kick start the whole shebang, ehh. What’s your medicine? I’ll take any of the above besides a myriad of others.<br /><br />Couldn’t find any donuts in the cabin so I settled for a bowl of chocolate flavored crisp rice. Brewskies later this evening while watching a game on the tube.<br /><br />Speaking of televised games, I watched the Wild playing the Pens in Pittsburg earlier this week and got so pissed off at the main camera coverage that I had to fire off an email complaint to Comcast Sportnet. The fool was jerking around so much following the puck that I started getting dizzy. Ya know I like watching the game. I like watching the play develop. I like to see what’s going on on the ice. This blasted cameraman would zoom in so close that the only thing you could see, was say, Crosby and the puck. Damn dude, back off a bit, and you won’t have to move the camera so much. What do you guys think?<br /><br />Back to my choosing one word from my five choices.<br /><br />Dudes and dudettes – we’re going with tomahawk for $400 Alex.<br /><br />As I mentioned earlier you can see the crossed tomahawks on the shoulders of the Chicago Blackhawks. It has been their alternate logo since 1964. What happened with the Blackhawks in 1964, I’m not really sure, but usually when a crossed object emblem is created it indicates the formation of a secret and oftentimes wicked clandestine society (remember the Outlaws Crossed Stick Society and that I’m still a member). Well this we do know, that prior to 1964 the Blackhawks had Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita playing for them. And in 1964 Bobby’s brother, Dennis, joined the team. This could certainly have had something to do with the new alternate logo and the implication of a secret society within membership of the Blackhawks. Bobby and Dennis together were quite the pair of party animals. I leave you to investigate that further – I don’t want to supposition any more than I have to to peak your interest any more.<br /><br />It’s kind of interesting but the standard logo for the Blackhawks, that image of the Native American, with feathers and all, is quite often voted the best sports logo. I bet that you didn’t know that it was designed by the wife of the first owner. Her name was Irene Castle and she had been a famous dancer. Her husband, Frederick McLaughlin, had bought the team (then playing on the west coast as the Portland Rosebuds) and moved them to Chicago where he named them the Blackhawks after the military unit that he had served with. In their first game the Blackhawks won 4-1 over the Toronto St. Patricks on November 19, 1926. That’s just about eight-two years ago this week. Crazy, ehh? Where’s those losers now???<br /><br />Do you own a tomahawk? How about a hatchet? An ax?<br /><br />Me, I currently own a hatchet. It’s really more like an oversized lathing hammer and I’ve never used it as a weapon. Have you ever used yours as a weapon?<br /><br />When I was kid I had one that was a toy with a rubber head. That was probably good because I know I used it to chop on my sisters all of the time. I was always trying to scalp them in some sort of misogynist attitude. Of course Mom and Dad whuuped on me each time and eventually the attitude went away and I became a fair lover of the opposite sex (Did someone say “Satyrasis”?).<br /><br />Did any of you guys own one of those rubber headed tomahawks when you were a kid? You could get them at Wall Drugs or any other tourist novelty store. Shit you can still probably get them at Spencer’s, ehh?<br /><br />So this year the NHL has started cracking down some of the stuff that I always took for granted as a necessary part of the play. I love to get my stick up on the mid section of a player. Not really a slash and not really a hook. Usually I’m going for high on their stick and gloves. Kinda lets ‘em know that I’m there, ya know. More a bit of chase factor than anything else when you’re an old fart like me and can’t skate as fast as your opponents. It looks like I’d get called all the time. I’m not trying to impede him and I sure as shit ain’t tomahawking the dude with a nasty slash or getting up high enough to be called for high sticking.<br /><br />When I was younger (and you still see it today when a player can get it away with doing it) it used to be a nasty little ploy to tomahawk an opponent’s stick right below his lower glove hand when he had his weight on it; like during a face off. The intention was to snap his stick right below his glove and it often worked. He’d be stickless until he could get to the bench. Haha! Pretty expensive these days when you think of the cost of some of these shafts now used by the non-traditionalists (ya gotta be walking with wood ehh unless you’re fuckin rich).<br /><br />The second year that I was coaching youth hockey an incident of tomahawking promoted my career. I had started the season as a Bantam AA coach. I was working with a good group of kids. All heart but really lacking the skills to be at the double A level. Second year skaters as Bantams and their parents always figurin that their kid should be playing at a level better than the skills that he or she really had. Yep, love is blind. We didn’t win many games that year though I gave them a good effort on my part. One of the grandfathers, Alex, was my assistant.<br /><br />The Midget A team usually practiced right after us so I would stick around to help out. They were coached by a pretty good skater by the name of Sam Nation. Had a lot of hockey smarts and the skills to go with them. He didn’t have a formal assistant so I’d show up for games when I could to help out. These were usually just the home games. Anyway, at one of the home games while trying to get these yahoo’s to get their shit together for the next line change, Sam was having no luck getting one big lunk-head to pay attention. So he grabbed the nearest stick and tomahawked him right over the top of his helmet. I had to laugh. Didn’t hurt the kid at all. But he finally caught on what he was supposed to pay attention to while on the bench. The unfortunate thing for Sam was the fact that the kid’s dad saw him do this. The complaint went up to the team board and they let Sam go whereupon I took over coaching two teams for the rest of the season. The next year I coached Midget AA and off I went with my coaching career. Sam ended up in Flagstaff coaching Junior A. I’ve gotta say, he was a good coach – I learned a lot from getting to work with him. Most importantly, I learned, don’t tomahawk your players over their heads. Especially when their parents are around to see ya do it.<br /><br />Okee –dokee, folks. Ya wanted fly under the radar. But keep your elbows up going into the corners, keep your sticks down, and skate your asses off. You never know, you might be the next Sidney Crosby, Dustin Brown, Alex Ovechkin or Evgeni Malkin. Ehh??<br /><br />Jasper here, skatin hard until next time and <strong><em>walking with wood</em></strong> always!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-57502925153028824342008-11-08T15:37:00.001-08:002008-11-08T15:49:25.131-08:00Plastered in ParisOh this is sure some kinda donkey doodoo – but what can I say. I’ve been out of it for a while and it’s gonna take a while for it all to come back, ehh.<br /><br />You guys just need to hang on while I find a purpose for my being again. All I can say is that is that some where along the way I’m gonna be walking with wood again.<br /><br />I’m getting a lot of my strength back – I think anyway – not real sure how much strength I had before the little boo-boo to my brain and hardshell skull. But the Hon says that I am and I ain’t about to fight with her over it, ehh. If she says it then it must be fact.<br /><br />She told me last week that I’ve been talking in my sleep – talking some shit she says and usually it’s about hockey. So she sat me down last Saturday and tells me that we’ve got to dig into this. Get to the root of the changes in my sleep habit. So she got the doctor to order a sleep study. It got approved right away and I had a sleep-over for the study on Tuesday night. Oh and let me tell you guys – sleep studies are some kinda nuts.<br /><br />The Hon drops me off at the sleep-over clinic at around 9:30 pm. I’ve got some jams with me, my favorite pillow and a paperback. They get me signed in, show me to my room and the bed I’m going to sleep in. I get into my jams and the technician comes in and puts twenty-four different probes on me. These wired up little do-hickies are stuck on my head, up my fool nose, on my chest, shoulders and legs. And I’m expected to sleep. Are they nuts or what?<br /><br />I don’t think I slept a wink but in the morning I had to fill out a survey about my dreams. I was drawing a complete blank so part of the program was that I had agreed to an injection of fast acting sodium pentothal and their direct questioning if this occurred.<br /><br />Nuts!<br /><br />I really hate shots. But I had agreed to do this I guess, so off to the world of absolute subjected honesty.<br /><br />They had to videotape this whole truth serum thingy and than provide me with a copy afterwards – otherwise I wouldn’t be able to relate any of the following shit to you. Apparently there is some amnesiac drug included in the serum, ehh.<br /><br />Let me fill ya in on what transpired. Ya might find it just as stupid as I did.<br /><br />Ok, so they start out asking me some simple questions like what is my name, how old I am and than dig a little deeper asking more personal questions to confirm my subjection to the concoction that they loaded me up with.<br /><br />The tech, I’ll call her Joan, finally gets around to asking dream questions.<br /><br />“Mr. Wheats do you remember dreaming last night?”<br /><br />“Ahh … yup … sure”, I responded.<br /><br />“Did you have more than one dream Mr. Wheats?” Joan quizzed me.<br /><br />“Two vivid ones and a couple of maybe little snips of others. Oh and call me Wheats or Jasper, please, I really don’t like being called mister anything. Sounds too stuffy for me, like I might have my head stuck up my ass or something. Just don’t like it. Ok?”<br /><br />“Ok, Jasper, I’ll make an effort to be more casual, though it goes against the professional nature of this study. Now let’s go over the first dream that you’ve remembered.” She made a couple of marks on the papers she had attached to a clipboard and looked over at me still sitting in my jams on the edge of the bed and said “Was this dream in color or black and white?”<br /><br />“By golly” I said, “it for fuckin sure was in color! My dreams have been in color since the seventies. That’s when I used to do all them psychedelics. Whoa baby, those were some crazy times, ehh. How about you Joanie girl? You get colors too?”<br /><br />She made another mark on the clipboard. “Mr. Wheats”, cleared her throat and continued “I mean Jasper, this session is about you not me. You need to keep your responses restricted to only what I ask. There is no need for you to divulge your personal history to me. Ok? Is this clear?”<br /><br />“Um-huh. Sure. I gotcha.” Damn if I’m not smiling ear to ear in the video.<br /><br />Ok, Jasper, back to the dream. Was it a good dream? Happy, fun, enjoyable? Or a bad dream? Scary, fearful, intimidating – maybe a nightmare?”<br /><br />I responded really quick like, didn’t even have to think. “It was fun and exciting but I was scared in the end. It was a hockey dream and I got hurt.”<br /><br />“Fun, exciting and scary? Was it a nightmare Jasper? Your heart rate and brain activity during your first REM was highly accelerated during this dream. That would indicate to us that it was possibly a nightmare. You also started making verbal attempts during this dream. It came out sort of like ehh, ehh, ehh on several occasions.”<br /><br />“Sure, sure … maybe it was a nightmare. I was talking huh?” I said.<br /><br />“Yes, you were trying to talk and yes we believe that this dream could be classified as a nightmare. Tell me some more about the dream. Were you in the dream?” she quizzed again.<br /><br />“Oh yeah, I was in the dream. You can bet your bippy I was.”<br /><br />“And where were you?”<br /><br />“I was in Paris. Paris, France. Everything in the background was like from a Monet painting. So yeah, I’m pretty sure it was Paris where I was at.”<br /><br />Joan now asked, “Have you ever been to Paris, Jasper?”<br /><br />“Nope. Canada and Mexico a few times each. And Texas, too, a whole bunch of times if that counts.”<br /><br />“Mr. Wheats, try to stick to the questions or we’ll be here all day. OK? Now what was the dream about? Was it sexual? The recordings indicated that you were aroused during this dream.” What can you tell me?<br /><br />“Aroused? Hah, I had boner, ehh? No shit? What do ya know. The Hon will appreciate knowing that I can still get some wood after my brain injury, ehh. Whacha think Joan? She’ll be happy, huh?”<br /><br />I couldn’t believe I was talking this shit – must be the meds making me a smidgen uninhibited.<br /><br />“Yes, Mr. Wheats. Those are the indications but I can’t speak for you wife. Now back to the dream please.”<br /><br />“Oh, yeah. Right. I was playing hockey. You know, ice hockey. I was playing in a game in the NHL for the LA Kings. Over in France. We were playing against the Islanders. I remember that Butch Goring was coaching the Islanders with John Lennon and Mick Jaeger as his assistants. Crazy – they aren’t even bitched up in hockey like Goring is. And me. I’m playing defense with some French-Canadian dude that I couldn’t understand. But he looked just like Kurt Russell in <em>Big Trouble in Little China</em>. The movie, you know. My Dad was coaching the Kings and Rogie Vashon was our goalie coach. But he was all geared up and would jump up on the bench and jump up and down yelling at us in French and broken English. It was crazy but we were wearing our purple, black and white jerseys; but Rogie was in the old gold and purple uniform. He looked like one of those wind-up toy gorilla’s or monkey’s that spank cymbals together. You know?”<br /><br />At this point she broke in and interrupted my recollection of the dream.<br /><br />“Is ice hockey important to you, Jasper?”<br /><br />“Oh, fuck yeah it is. Nothing but the best!”<br /><br />“And these people in your dream, are they significant in some way to you?” she asked me.<br /><br />“Well, my dad for sure is. And Kurt played the part of Herb Brooks, the Olympic hockey coach in that movie <em>Miracle</em>. And Butchie, he’s one of my all time favorite hockey heroes. And Rogie, well, my brothers named their dog after him when they were kids. Jaeger and Lennon – I don’t know about them. No real significance that I can think of. There’s other rock stars that I like better.”<br /><br />This is kinda cool. I never remembered a dream with such vividness ever before. This cocktail that they shot me up with is something else.<br /><br />Joan’s making her marks on the sheet and asks me “Do you feel that because your dad was the coach that this reflects his continued control over you?<br /><br />Without a second of thought I snapped “Naw, ya gotta be friggin kiddin. He’s like a best bud. Been that way for years and years.”<br /><br />“Ok, continue with what you remember of this dream.”<br /><br />“Well, I’m still playing in the Paris hockey game, right. I don’t know who any of my other teammates are but we’re going about the business of playing. Skating, passing, shooting, getting in position, checking, getting checked. Being winded and being exhilarated. Resting on the bench. Yelling and getting yelled at. You know regular hockey stuff.”<br /><br />“Jasper, were there people or fans watching the game? Did you see them?”<br /><br />I had to think for a minute on that. “No, I don’t remember anybody watching us. I don’t remember looking into the stands at all. It was all on the ice. Inside the rink, you know.”<br /><br />“Ok, continue”, she said.<br /><br />“I get a shift with my partner and we seemed to be caught up in some turmoil deep in the opposing zone. All five of us are along my boards and the gloves are off. The Islanders are mixing it up with us. Right now I don’t know what started it but my feelings are that it was something I did. I got one guy holding me from behind with one arm around my neck; sort of in a chokehold. And some guy with fists the size of hams just pounding the shit outta my face. In between blows I can see the guy swinging on me is Keith Tkachuk. He skates for the Blues, not the Islanders. But what the fuck – it doesn’t seem to matter. Right? Ok, so I’m just getting absolutely plastered in Paris and I can’t get a punch in even sideways, ehh. This is the part of the dream that is both exciting and scary. Scary because nobody seems to be breaking up the donnybrook and I can’t even defend myself. This is pretty bad. I can feel every blow that lands on my face. I can taste the blood in my mouth and see it running through my eyes.”<br /><br />She interrupts again, “So this was pretty violent at this point?”<br /><br />“Well yes,” I respond, “but normally not in real life. Just exciting there. But here in the dream I can’t use my friggin arms. Right? So that’s what’s scary. Being incapacitated is scary but the fight is just normal old time hockey – no more violent that usual – but violent yes, I guess just the same if your not used to it.”<br /><br />“At this point, reaching what you describe as the scary part”, she asks, “did the dream come to a conclusion? Did it end?”<br /><br />“Shit no! Rogie jumped off the bench, skated over to the fracas and straight-arm slugged the bastard that was pounding me right in the back of his neck with his blocker, smacking his head right into the jerk holding me and they both dropped like a cow drops pies. I slipped out of the whole mess, picked up the puck skated toward the slot and threw into the Islanders’ net and we won the game. Completely illegal, but I won the game, shit for sure. That’s how the dream ended. Yup. What else do ya want to know?”<br /><br />Joan was marking away on her clipboard, looked at her watch and said that I’d be coming out of the drug fairly soon and we’d have to end the session with just a study of the one dream.<br /><br />“You were probably trying to talk in your sleep while you were getting beat up. I’ll give this report to the clinic’s doctors and they’ll make an evaluation. It looks like you might need some psychiatric help here, though. I’d say that you’re probably nuts Mr. Wheats, but I’m only a technician and, oh my goodness, I probably shouldn’t have told you that, I guess.”<br /><br />Joan was surely disturbed over that faux pas. It didn’t bother me in the littlest little bit. I kinda appreciated the acknowledgement of my disposition, ehh.<br /><br />So anyway, I’m waiting for the diagnosis from the docs and whatever follow-up might be required. Patience, they say is a virtue. I can wait. And the Hon is satisfied that I had this looked into. She’s not to worried about me being nuts – as far as she’s concerned I already was when I fell for her.<br /><br />Jasper here, just walking with wood again, maybe.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-14676430231423831092008-10-31T15:59:00.000-07:002008-10-31T16:03:52.749-07:00Hockeyweenie 2008For gosh sakes, its Halloween, and I haven’t done shit since I last wrote a tale the week after I got out of the hospital. I’m tellin ya, I’m being a real weenie. Don’t let anybody tell ya that a coma doesn’t just fuck ya up just real good. It has been the absolute shits, like you can’t believe.<br /><br />So after I wrote the last little tale for ya, I passed out for about eighteen or nineteen hours. The Hon thought that I might a slipped right back into a coma again. Worried her somethin silly I guess. Ehh? Don’t blame her, whadja expect?<br /><br />All in all, they say I’m getting better. I’ve got a lot of strength to regain though. My musculature just atrophied something horrible. I lost over forty pounds while I was in the deep sleep. I look like Ichabod Crane and aged something like Rip Van Winkle in those two months.<br /><br />That little chunk of my skull lodged in my left temporal lobe and the doctors decided that it would be best to leave it there rather than cause more damage trying to remove it. They said that the swelling in the area went down about two weeks after I was hit by the puck.<br /><br />Motor skills seem to be ok but I have a really hard time remembering the right words to use and the names of people. The Hon said that she had to edit my last story after I wrote it and before it got published on the internet. I guess she’ll have to continue to do this – don’t know if I’ll ever get my smarts back again.<br /><br />The medical folks tell me that if I’d a had the same damage on the right side that it might have put a damper on my sex drive or the reverse made me less inhibited. Far as I can tell I’m still the same old horndog that I ever was – so they must know what they’re talking about.<br /><br />One thing that the Hon and Wayno noticed right away was that I always was calling Wayno as Wayno instead of D-Pity like I had always had before. It’s weird, they say, cuz only his family and people that don’t know him real well call him by Wayno. Oh, I hope I get the hang of it again.<br /><br />Like I said though, it’s Halloween and the kids’ll be out trick or treating tonight if the weather holds up ok. Could snow or something before the weekend’s over. The Hon picked up some candy in case anybody comes out this far out of town, but I mainly think she’s bought it for me.<br /><br />I use a walker to get around cuz I’m still feeling so damn weak. A couple of months ago I was out playing hockey with the guys and now I’m just a fool hockeyweenie. I can spit a damn site further than I can kick shit right now. I’m telling you I’m so damn far from walking with wood this very moment that if ya lined up a thousand folks for a pickup game I’m sure I’d be the very last old pucker that’d get picked.<br /><br />You guys, this really sucks.<br /><br />And this cabin of ours – crap-a-ninnie. It sure is heck wasn’t designed for a friggin invalid. We’ve got some nice decorative switch plates on the walls for the lights and I fumble like crazy trying to just find the switch. And our swell furniture, if I sit down on the couch I don’t hardly have the strength to get back up. I’m always yelling for the Hon to help me.<br /><br />Shit, she helped down into my new basement one day and we both decided that it would be easier to get back upstairs by going outside and traversing the hill rather than using the stairs. And then when I was down there I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t get the walker into my secret tunnel to the barn. Guess I won’t be attending any meetings of the Outlaws secret Crossed Sticks Society anytime soon, ehh.<br /><br /> Twistin and turnin in the house and down the hallway is just a pain in the ass. We’ve just got way too much shit that needs to be rearranged. The Hon says that I can do that when I get better. Damn she makes me mad! Then she says she’s just gonna leave things the way they are to motivate me.<br /><br />Motivate me! My ass!<br /><br />Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!<br /><br />Thank God she’s here though. I just about can do a fair job of wiping my own ass finally. But I still have to call her to help me get up off the crapper. It’s been kind embare-assing if ya know what I mean.<br /><br />So, I’ve been veggin here at home in the cabin. Friends come by once in a while to check on me and try to keep me up todate. Bronzie and Stinky are running the team for me and Wayno, I mean D-Pity, comes by to watch games with me.<br /><br />Sure glad it’s hockey season, ehh. The NHL has been putting games on two different channels this year, Versus and some new one on Comcast. But shit am I sick of watching the Flyers and Penguins play. It seems as though either one of those two teams are in two out of three games. My Favorite team the LA Kings have only been televised once so far in my neck of the woods. I guess I really had better quit complaining cuz beggars can’t be choosers.<br /><br />Ehh?<br /><br />Someone’s at the door and I can’t get my ass out a this chair. Probably a little Freddie Krueger or maybe Jason with his hockey mask on. Could be a George Bush or a little princess. Don’t know. The Hon’ll have to let me know.<br /><br />You guys have a good time tonight, ehh!<br /><br />Skate hard, stir the pot a little, and don’t get caught with your head down.<br /><br />Jasper here, til next time.<br /><br />(Oh, by the way – the Hon says this is just one damn depressing story – I better get better real damn quick and write something funny.)Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-6605654770469428232008-10-12T14:28:00.001-07:002008-10-12T14:44:31.070-07:00A LertSo what’s a <em>lert</em>?<br /><br />Sure, it’s a really stupid question that we used to ask when we were kids after Mom would tell us to be alert.<br /><br />“Be a <em>lert</em>!” she’d scream at us.<br /><br />Dabnabit. I didn’t even know what a <em>lert</em> was so how in the world was I supposed to know how to be one. My older sisters must have known cuz they didn’t get yelled at half as much me and my younger siblings did.<br /><br />About the time that Jingles and Bronzy had started playing hockey it become sort of a family joke. She and Dad would be standing along the boards behind the fishnet and she’d yell at them “Keep your head up and be alert!” and then laugh a little or pat Dad on the back. Jingles had a habit of looking at his skates and Bronzy was usually playing with much bigger kids so the advice was not only, by then, a bit funny but also some good hockey advice.<br /><br />Of course there were kids that I’ve coached and guys that I’ve played with that used another phrase of similar ilk (yeah, like I never used it myself) when appealing to a ref for his lack of a lertness – “Pull your head out Ref!!!” Kids will get a trip to the box for that shit.<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />Look you guys. I woke up about a week ago.<br /><br />I mean, I woke up about a week ago and not from an overnight sleep. Not from a nap. Not from a lapse of attention. But, sheeesh, from a friggin ding-dang coma.<br /><br />And my first bit of awareness was thoughts of Mom yelling at me to be alert. <br /><br />No, she had not visited me in the hospital and said that to me in my unconscious state. She’s been up in heaven for few years now, bless her soul. But her memory and lessons live on and apparently quite heavily in my twilight subconscious.<br /><br />Pretty weird, ehh? Kinda spooky if you ask me.<br /><br />Does anybody have a take on this kinda crap? I’m mean, I’m sort of curious if she wasn’t, like communicating with me from the other side or something.<br /><br />Your now asking, “Jasper how in the world didja end up in a freakin coma?” Right?<br /><br />Well, I don’t remember any of this. It was related back to me by the good folks that have stopped by to visit since I woke up.<br /><br />The medical staff said that I kind of waivered for a few hours coming out it. I moved a little vigorously they said and nodded back out. Then a bit later I moved again and wretched out of my dry throat “Honey could ya get me another cold one.”<br /><br />Yup, thinking about being a <em>lert</em> and needing a brewski. Some would probably say that that’s just natural Wheat’s instinct – some sort of traditional family response kind of thing. I don’t know.<br /><br />So the nursing aid called the honey and she came down right away. I guess I kind of waivered in and out for about a day or so. What I do remember was that the honey looked a wreck. My condition had just about put her away too.<br /><br />I came home from the medical facility two days ago and can’t talk real well yet but I can punch this laptop keyboard ok I guess. (You guys wouldn’t have been able to read this if I hadn’t done some editing and typo correcting – “The Honey”) They moved me out of the hospital after about two weeks to a minimal care facility cuz of my insurance coverage. Seems as though the company I worked for went under while I was out of it. Guess they couldn’t function without me and our insurance coverage kind of went on the light side.<br /><br />She’s filled me in on a lot, but so has Jingles, Bronzy, Stinky and Wayno. They were all with me when it happened.<br /><br />I guess I wrote last about Wayno coming back to town, wealthier than shit. Right? Yup the dude’s for sure walking with wood. Do you recall that he had gotten better at hockey since I had last seen him? Hmmm. Let’s see, he had really sucked, but when he found me at Culla’s that night he claimed he was pretty good now, had taken lessons, been to hockey camps and had played all over the world. Ehh?<br /><br />Me, being the way I am, I had taken that all with a grain of salt. But apparently the next evening, Wayno had called me at the cabin and said he had rented the rink for a couple of hours and could I get a hold of enough guys real quick like to ice some pickup. Curious about his skills, I was game and put some calls out to the Outlaws and the kids I coach on the Nightmare. I didn’t make all the calls but asked the ones I did call to call others.<br /><br />At nine o’clock we had a good turn out with around twenty of us and three goalies. It was about an even split between kids and old farts so we decided skate that way. Wayno told me that those kids skated great and gave me kudos for their development. It’s not important but those kids were whooping our asses. Wayno said it was blast.<br /><br />Jingles said that he was playing defense with me, he on the right and me covering left when Stinky lost the puck at the blue line on a breakout. Wayno said he was playing a sleeper out near their blue line so was completely out of the play. Stinky took a big sweeping old fart curve to get back into the play while the kid that stole the puck moved towards the boards on Jingles’ side. He passed cross ice to a kid that was just crossing into the zone. Bronzy shifted over towards him while Jingles dropped back into the right side of the high slot trying to stay with the kid that had made the pass. Meanwhile this big kid, I can’t remember any of their names (the doc said I might always have this problem now) was parked in front of our net and I was trying to move him. The kid crossing the blue line took a one-timer that Bronzy unfortunately got his shaft on. It gave it more loft with no loss of speed. The big oof in front of the net shoved back and I turned right into the slapper. The puck, apparently, hit me below my helmet on my left ear and skull as I was reacting and turning away from the shot at the last instant. It dropped me like a sack of potatoes as the puck jammed a small chunk of my skull into my brain.<br /><br />I was out. I mean way out and I stayed in that fool coma for almost two months. What a weenie I’ve been, ehh.<br /><br />Yup, out for two months and now awake for a week.<br /><br />SHIT! What in the world did you guys let happen while I was out of it?????<br /><br />Paul Newman passed away. Goodby Reggie, we'll miss you.<br /><br />The NHL’s season just started for 2008/2009. That’s good.<br /><br />The Republican Party’s got a hockey mom as their vice-presidential candidate. That’s good. And she’s attractive in glasses besides. That’s good again.<br /><br />But what the HEY did you guys do to the economy? The honey says that our cabin and our woods are worth about half of what they were before I got bashed in the ear. And Wayno’s been working with her reviewing our savings and retirement accounts and he figures that their combined value has dropped like forty-seven percent or something in this same freaking time frame. This is so not good.<br /><br />Not good! Not good! This is really bad. No job and an economy that sucks. Maybe I’m still in a coma, ehh?<br /><br />Dudes and dudettes – that’s the shit that happens when you’re not being a <em>lert</em>!<br /><br />New season, new start. Skate hard and keep your heads up, ehh!<br /><br />Jasper here ‘til next time.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-86320599255291030852008-09-01T19:15:00.001-07:002008-09-01T19:22:27.691-07:00Well Ain't That a Damn PityIt’s been a heck of a busy week. Work and all just kickin my ass. I hadn’t had a planned day off in over a year until I finally took a vacation day Friday, giving me a four day weekend.<br /><br />Dabnabit if I didn’t deserve it. ‘Specially now as it’s coming to a close here on Monday night. <br /><br />Ehh? You guys agree? Right?<br /><br />OK, so it’s sort of like the end of the summer too. Just means hockey season is around the corner then. That’ll be some good shit to get that going again.<br /><br />The honey and me went for pizza and beer Friday night. Went to an end of the summer country music concert in the park on Sunday and just kicked it easy today and Saturday. I tell ya, me and the honey danced our little drunken asses off this summer with those concerts in the park with some damn fine music, friends and family. Love our little cultural community if ya know what I mean.<br /><br />Now, Thursday night if I didn’t have just one surprising evening.<br /><br />I told the honey that I was gonna stop into Culla’s to watch the end of the game on my way home. Last of the pre-season, and the Vikings let the Cowboys take it away 10 to 16. Shit! Well they’ve got all season to make amends, ehh.<br /><br />Culla’s ain’t such a bad little hole in the wall. I been going there since the ‘70’s – back when you could get a pitcher of draft for sixty cents and a pickled egg for a dime. Damn if prices haven’t changed over the years – sheeeet! To say the least. The bar had to move twice since back then due to municipal construction. But the beer’s just as damn good – same with the pickled eggs and all the new shit you can get there now.<br /><br />Culla passed away a long time ago now and her grandson runs the place. He’s put in some big sports screens in three of the corners and one behind the bar – so there ain’t a bad seat in the place.<br /><br />I’m basically drinking by myself tonight. I mean, I know most of the old hacks like myself in the place but usually don’t know any of the young college twerps. Their girls are sweet to look at but if the young-ons ain’t pucksters, then they got their fool heads right up their asses. (Sorry about that guys – but that’s my after-work-attitude coming through – until at least I’m juiced up or laid.)<br /><br />So, I’ve got a couple a pitchers in me, several of them green eggs, peanuts, chips, popcorn, pretzels, and greasy little sausage links on toothpicks – damn If I’m not going to be foul tomorrow I’m thinkin calling this dinner. But I’ve got the vacation day, so what the hell.<br /><br />Culla’s starts getting pretty filled up. I got a seat at the bar and folks are standing behind jabbering away and hooting and hollering at the appropriate times as the game goes along. Except for one fucking ass-hole who’s just saying the most inappropriate things inside of a frigging Viking’s bar. And he ain’t being none to subtle with it either. At one point when it sounds like it gets really rank I turn around and glance at the guy. He’s just some old codger like me, really tan though and wearing some sort of south-seas getup like Jimmy Buffet or something. One of the college kids is starting to give him back some “What the fuck?!?!” shit and I’m thinking here we go another damn bargument, why don’t you guys take it to the street.<br /><br />Before it escalates into shoving and shit the Jimmy Buffet dude yells out over the noise of whole damn bar, “Hey Wheats, ain’t that a damn pity the way the Vikes are playing?”<br /><br />Well, like I said most the old folks know me in this bar and I guess I’ve got a reputation with the young-ons too, cuz the place got real quiet. Like you could hear the TV it was so hushed.<br /><br />Now what the devil? This surfer looking dude knows who I am and seems sure as shit to be calling me out. So I spin my stool around real slow like and plant my feet wide (though lopsided) getting ready to rumble. “What’s that you say ass-hole?”<br /><br />“I said, “Ain’t that a damn pity….” he growled at a few decibels above a whisper as the crowd splits an opening between us.<br /><br />He had one of those shit eatin grins on his face like Jingles gets when it’s time to drop the gloves. I’m guessing its one of Tidwilly’s friends from the joint – so I’m just about ready to give it a go when he says again “Damn pity!”<br /><br />Wait a bloody second …… I’m thinkin again. The gears are spinning upstairs but the beer’s impeding engagement. Damn pity, damn pity, ummmm, damn pity???? What the …? Come on Jasper – I’m starting to sweat as I stand up off the barstool. What’s going on? My memory banks have peeled into overdrive. Damn pity, damn pity …. D-Pity.<br /><br />Oh for goodness sake.<br /><br />I shut my bad eye to get a better look at this dude and I say “Wayno Studholm?”<br /><br />And he responds “Abso-friggin-lutely! At your service, Jasper Wheats, you old coon’s ass!”<br /><br />We each took a step towards each and then both reached for an embrace like long lost friends will do and the bar crowd got lively again.<br /><br />Dang, I hadn’t seen him twenty or thirty years. He had gone to school with me, played hockey with me and then just disappeared a year so after high school. His parents had named him Wayno Edward Studholm, but back when we were playing Midgets some wise ass on the team started calling him “Damn Pity’s Boy” and eventually just abbreviated it to “D-Pity”. And it stuck.<br /><br />Wayno’s dad had been in a bad accident before then and had had some minor (I think it was minor anyway) brain damage. When he’d come watch Wayno play (oh shit and Wayno played sooooo bad) he’d always be yelling after a bad play or lots and lots of times after we’d lose a game, “Ain’t that a damn pity?”<br /><br />So we back off from our man-hug and the guy in the seat next to me points at his stool and moves on.<br /><br />So me and D-Pity sit down to the bar and the barmaid, Heidi, brings us a fresh pitcher on the house. I’m sure Culla’s smiling down from heaven. You know, when we were eighteen, after high school, you could legally drink around here and me and D-Pity tipped our share of brewskies while she was still pulling drafts.<br /><br />Well, you can’t really get completely caught up on twenty to thirty years of living while you’re trying to get your Vikings to win a game. But D-Pity gave me his high points while I shared some of mine.<br /><br />His dad had been hurt much more seriously than any of us ever knew. His lawyers had secured one hell of a hefty sum which Wayno inherited after his dad passed away about two years after we got out of high school. He’d gone off to college in the east somewhere and got a PhD in some zoological subject that nobody’s ever heard of (I’m sure of this – no way, no how, nobody’s ever …) that led him to a stint in the South Pacific and making his home for a while in Australia. But now he’s back and looking for a place to hang his hat for a long time in the back woods.<br /><br />The shit is though, he asked me if I was still skatin. Said he’d been going to hockey camps for a few years now and could pretty much hold his own on the ice as opposed to his lack of skills back when we were kids.<br /><br />Damn, we’ll see. D-Pity might just be walking with wood, ehh?<br /><br />I’m sure there’s a story or two to pull out of his ass for you folks that read this garbled shit of mine.<br /><br />Until, next time, Jasper here just tellin ya to skate hard ya roudy puckheads!Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-53645255040643853782008-07-19T20:02:00.001-07:002008-07-19T20:11:38.629-07:00The Penalty Time-KeeperYa, the days are gone by where bench clearing brawls were the norm. The game of hockey has been revised considerably from the time where the sticks were up and elbows were flying. Hell, you can’t even tap a guy with your stick anymore without getting two minutes – I think that they’re calling that “hooking”.<br /><br />Hell, I’ll show you “hooking” any day of the week and twice on Tuesdays.<br /><br />Hockey has always been a rough sport. Lots of bruises, stitches, knocked out teeth, an occasional broken bone or dislocated joint is standard fare from a season on the ice. I’ve certainly had my fair share of injuries from playing the greatest game in the world. Lets see, this has included stitches from pucks and sticks to the face (had my lower lip completely split in half and took a stick blade to my right eyeball to name a few), broken wrist, broken humerus (that’s the upper arm bone ya noggin heads) from a cross check, torn knee cartilage, separated shoulder, and complete right hip joint replacement (my demise).<br /><br />And I have played some dirty hockey too. The sin bin has been my refuge upon occasion. It is the bane of many a determined player too. You play your ass off and you still get beat in your own end; so you trip the guy to stop him from going in one on your goalie.<br /><br />Was it worth it?<br /><br />Ohhhhh ….. you’re damn tootin it was Olie!<br /><br />So you’re doomed to the box for two minutes again. Your teammates give ya shit later for letting the guy beat ya. Yeah ya hear them say “Wheats, ya get beat on the right side every time. Ya gotta move em to your left before they cross the blue line you dumb-ass!”<br /><br />What’s worse the box and maybe a missed shift or the razzing?<br /><br />Fuck the razzing. It’s that missed time on the ice, baby.<br /><br />Oh yeah and how about the intensity of getting a little rowdy and taking coincidentals only to jump back onto the ice and take up where the two of ya left off a couple of minutes ago? The fans love that shit, ehh?<br /><br />I coach a bit ya know. I teach the kids to go in high, keeping their elbows up. Sure don’t want them skating like a damn Texas armadillo with their noses down to the ground now do ya? Keep your head up, go in hard and come out with the puck.<br /><br />The worst of all penalties, though is too many men on the ice. Man, that is just a mistake to get that kinda shit-ass call. Whoever is running the bench should have to eat two donuts or something to serve that fool penalty.<br /><br />Another one of my gripes is that goalies don’t serve penalties. Now to me, that is a real crock of shit. I think it would really open the game up. Ehh?<br /><br />Have ya ever wondered about the guy that’s taking care of the box? In the NHL, he’s an official and has to keep track of the time and other sorts of pricy shit (that’s why ticket prices are so high – it ain’t the players’ salaries). In youth hockey this person is usually one of the parents that volunteers or is coerced into the position by the domineering team mother. In the infinite number of beer leagues out there it’s usually just an interested fan that just wants to help out – maybe loves the game but can’t play anymore – maybe never played but is the biggest wanna-be in the world. Kudos to these folks cuz they walk with wood too.<br /><br />I’ve got a story to tell about the penalty box official at the tournament I played in last week. Got to play in the Snoopy games out in Santa Rosa, California. Wild Bill knew some guys down in Marshall, Minnesota that needed a couple of players to fill the roster for the over 45 team they were putting in the tournament. We decided that it’d make a fun little vacation, so we coughed up the bucks each and told the guys that we’d hook up with them out west. Wild Bill was coming down from the northwest with his wife and daughter and I’d be heading out of the back woods with my honey. All to play a minimum of three games with the Marshall Meat-Packers.<br /><br />The honey and I flew into Sacramento, rented a car and drove over to Santa Rosa via Napa and Sonoma Valleys so that she could do some mighty fine (and awfully damned expensive) wine tasting. You guys know that I don’t drink the stuff (brewskies brothers – pour me another!) but if it makes her happy it makes me happy.<br /><br />The Meat-Packers had made arrangements for all of us to stay at the same hotel which gave us a fair discount over normal rates – and I’ll tell you that’s awfully danged important when your staying in a hotel for over a week. Good group of folks, those Meat-Packers, though they were a little disturbed that Grain Belt wasn’t on tap at the hotel pub and that they couldn’t find it in the liquor stores either. We had a team meeting the first night to get introduced to all and lay down some strategies and shit. As I figured most didn’t play on the same team but had gathered for the tournament from a beer league in southern Minnesota. I brought a couple of cases of Moosehead to the meeting to appease their Grain Belt withdrawal. I had found it at a Bevmo liquor store that we had driven past and turned back to as we had driven over from Sacramento (sheeeet – I was looking-out for myself cuz the honey – I just knew – was gonna be really wined up). The meeting went well and it seemed like the dude, Mike, that was running the team, was afraid that we all would spend too much time in the penalty box. Warned us to play “nice” and kept referring to all of us as “ya bunch of brawlers”. The first time he used the phrase I glanced over at Wild Bill and gave him the thumbs up. Our kinda guys. Could be this whole team was composed of close relatives of the Hanson brothers, ehh?<br /><br />Wild Bill and I told them that we’d prefer to play defense mainly. Bill had been a forward from my days of playing with him back a generation or so ago but had now maybe slowed down to my pace or something. I really think that he wanted to skate as my partner – which was really cool. Our first game was going to be Sunday evening and Mike said that we’d be wearing numbers 2 and 3, he’d bring the jerseys and socks.<br /><br />I don’t know, but we really didn’t click in that first game. It’s about ten or twelve minutes left in the third and were down 6 to 2. Wild Bill’s playing left and I’ve got right de. The opposing team’s center whipped the puck back into my corner from the opposite side outside the blueline as their left week jammed in skating like a Junior A allstar. I turned and skated like hell to try to cut it off behind the net. Wild Bill was tracking their rightwing as he came in hard too. I realized that I couldn’t make the cutoff and turned to the slot as their center started to pick a perch high. Wild Bill must have had the same thoughts as me as we both punched to the high slot to pick this guy – both of us clobbering him full blast in an ass sandwich like the old days (got to do something to rile the old team – cuz right then we sure for shit hadn’t been skatin with wood). Oh and don’t you know it - the fuckin whistle blows.<br /><br />Both of us get called for roughing ………….<br /><br />Running time: three minutes each. It’s the shit!<br /><br />The gate keeper at the box opens the door and Bill goes in first; swearing up a storm. I jump in and sit down with my stick out in front of me and start to take my gloves of when the dude shuts the gate and turns to us, (damn if he doesn’t look just like Ernie Rucks from the old days of skating Sunday pickup – in retirement, Ernie was an NHL goal judge down in LA and came from the Canadian north woods) oh yeah lost my train of thought there, ok so he turns to us and says “You boys ought to play nice now”, taps the right side of his nose two times with his index finger and ………….<br /><br />Holy shit its cold! I look over at Bill and he’s looking back at me. What the fuck????<br /><br />We aren’t in Santa Rosa anymore. Were outside and it feels like it’s about 50 below. Were standing next to the gate at a crude outdoor rink with some sort of antiquated equipment on. Our uniforms are harsh wool sweaters and socks with about twenty stripes on them. My gloves have got hardly no padding or length to them and on the jersey it says “St. Paul Hockey Club”. And my skates are pretty wobbly feeling – all leather it looks like.<br /><br />In and instant, I knew it and I know Bill knew it too – that we had been somehow transported back in time. To another era, to another game. Utterly amazing. But we had a game to play and we knew that we both had to jump on the ice.<br /><br />And off we went, skating our asses off playing with sticks that looked like they had been made from a single piece of wood. The game was seven on seven with a rover. Somehow we knew. It all came together in an instant. Our rover was Francis “Moose” Goheen, probably the second best if not best American hockey player of the time, next to or equal alongside of Hobie Baker. What a deal. This guy’s was from White Bear Lake, Minnesota – Herb Brooks’ hero when he was growing up. Silver medalist from the 1920 Olympics. This dude was good! And he walked with wood from one end of the ice to other. Untouchable.<br /><br />I figure its got to be somewhere around 1925 based on the way the folks were dressed that were watching and the looks of cars that we could see over at the street.<br /><br />Wild Bill skates across my lane and yells at me as he passes, “Jasper do you see who’s skating rover for Boston over there?”<br /><br />Bewildered I look around and astonishingly realize that the visitors’ rover was none other than Bobby Orr. Damn if this ain’t something. He musta been somehow transported here from the late ‘60’s or ‘70’s. And oh, could he skate. He was made for the position of rover!<br /><br />The scoreboard, being manned by a guy with a handlebar mustache, fur coat and the weirdest hat that I’d ever seen, said that we were tied at 4 to 4.<br /><br />Game on kids!<br /><br />The puck skittered up the boards on the rough ice to Wild Bill and he took off on a meandering journey into the opposing end. Shit he was skating damn near as good as young Moose Goheen. He got in about 40 feet out – and I could tell – he tried to take a slap shot. No dice – it couldn’t happen – the slap shot wouldn’t be invented for another forty years or so. Bill fell flat on his chest like he’d been close-lined.<br /><br />Orr picked up the puck and took it behind his net to apparently regroup and eye the up-ice layout and off he went. Smoothly left, smoothly right … Goheen swooped in to cut him off and Orr just went horizontal in flight mode or something with the puck almost slipping through Moose’s skates. He kicks it forward and heads after it. Orr, still horizontal, spins in midair and takes off superman style after Goheen, sweeps in with outstretched downward angled stick and takes it off Goheen only to come back down to ice behind his own net again smooth as silk.<br />Orr eyes up ice again and takes off through the center. I pick him up as he cuts to the boards to my right. Again the smart bastard goes airborne to my left and picks up the puck off the boards on the other side of me. WTF! I’m all over myself and Orr’s on net. Oops, did he lose the puck on the rough ice or is it a deke. Wham – bam – thank you mamm– if he didn’t stuff it in the puck from between his own legs and he’s off flying again.<br /><br />The fans start booing as Orr keeps flying around celebrating his goal but the game is different. No face off after goals – just pull the puck out and take it behind the net while everyone gets on side and take off skating again. Mr. Moose Goheen picks up the puck while Orr is still celebrating. He seems pumped, the crowd’s booing now sounds excited rather than angry. A teammate skates by and yells “Watch him now. His family calls him “Boo” and that really riles his ass!”<br /><br />He weaves, he dekes, elbows out, he stiff arms one guy like a running back and goes in on net like a bull in a matador’s outfit. He’s putting a little drift to the left and I can tell he’s got it set to pull the goalie with him with quick plans to go upstairs in the right corner.<br /><br />Its in my mind – I know it …. And poof – Wild Bill and I are back in the box in Santa Rosa. Ghosts of Charles Schulz or what. Damn! I look over to Wild Bill. “You go on first.” He’s white as a ghost and as the penalty box time keeper opens the gate he steps on the ice and falls flat on his face. Not realizing what happened I stumble over him as I hit the ice. Both of us out there like a big pile of shit.<br /><br />Bill twists his bloodied up face back towards me and asks “Wheats, what the fuck just happened?”<br /><br />“Sheeeesh! I don’t know, but we better get back in the game, ehh.”<br /><br />The center that we had crunched getting our penalties stopped in front of us and tapped us each on our helmets with his stick and laughed as he said “You turkeys, ya might as well head back to Marshall and get back to that business of packing meat.”<br /><br />Ya know you guys – some days ya walk with wood and some days you sure for shit don’t.<br /><br />Jasper here. Skate hard! Stay out of the sin-bin ….. or not.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202477002363004434.post-40061075292391272922008-06-21T21:16:00.001-07:002008-06-21T21:21:58.469-07:00Desperate DepthGosh, be jiggers if summer isn’t finally here. I can hardly believe it. Wasn’t it just a couple of weeks ago that Detroit won the Stanley Cup for the gazillionth time by beating the Penguins. I’ve got to tell you guys that that triple overtime game was the best damn hockey game that I’d seen in a century or two.<br /><br />Yep, ice hockey is a winter sport for f’n sure but now its summer and its cooking.<br />I’ve been getting to see some of the 2008 NHL draft on my evening TV – reruns from earlier in the afternoon coming out of Ottawa. No big surprise with Tampa Bay picking Steven Stamkos number one overall. The kid’s got some shit, ehh? Any of ya see that highlight segment where I figure he’s in a shootout and pulls that baffling - lost the puck - switch-hit - from behind – got your knickers in a knot – eat shit goalie – scoring shot. Like to see him pull that stunt in the Bigs – wouldn’t cha?<br /><br />But what’s this bloody caca I’m hearing that the Lighting is also picking up Barry “The Hair” Melrose as their new coach with assistance from Cap Raeder. Sounds like the Kings all over again. But Melrose hasn’t coached in thirteen years. I sure enjoyed his Fancy-Dan suits that he got to wear while doing his commentating gig. Always figured that he was competing with Mr. High Collar himself, Don Cherry, for the best dressed verbose hockey nut on the tube. Oh yeah, I like the rough stuff too.<br /><br />So then, my boys, the LA Kings get the second pick by drawing Drew Doughty, a defenseman. But why the heck did they trade away Cammalleri? Sure, he was minus sixteen, but Visnovsky and Blake were minus eighteen and nineteen respectively, and I like those guys too, but they didn’t get traded. So what’s the story with this?<br /><br />Kings then pick Colter Teubert, number thirteen, another defenseman. Thirty-second overall they get another “D” Vjateslav Voinov.<br /><br />Ok, so their first three picks, from the first and second round, are all blue-liners. So take a look at last season’s stats. They scored more goals then about half the teams in the league but they couldn’t keep the damn biscuit out of their own net. I guess it makes sense to make these early round picks defensemen then.<br /><br />In the third round the Kings pick up two forwards and another defenseman: Robert Czarnik (center/right wing) sixty-third pick, Andrew Cambell (defense) seventy-fourth pick, and Gordie Wudrick (center) eighty-eighth overall.<br /><br />Fourth round leaves the Kings without a named puckster.<br /><br />In the fifth and sixth round they snag two centers: Andrei Loktionov (123) and Justin Azeved (153). And in the seventh round a left winger is drafted, Garrett Roe (183).<br /><br />That’s nine picks in the first seven rounds. Not bad, but they paid the price last season by having one of the worst butt-sucking finishes on record.<br /><br />But I like the new draft format where the Stanley Cup winner gets NO PICKS at all (LMAO). Damn I love those Wings but let’s put a damper on their talent to provide a little balance to the league. Now that was probably one of Melrose’s or Cherry’s idea cuz it sure the heck wasn’t one of Bettman’s gems. You know, I think, it maybe was Mike Milbury – he’s got the huevos to sell that to the NHL commissioners, board and player’s association. Now there’s a dude that thinks just like I do. Hockey – balls to the wall or leave em home in a jar (ya wooses!).<br /><br />So all-in-all my puckhead friends – I think the Kings and the NHL overall are on to some good shit come next season.<br /><br />I’m also hearing that there was more depth in this draft year than they’ve had for quite a while. Ha! Name them kids! All of my kids on the Norris’ Nightmare got drafted – some in some pretty late rounds, but sure the fuck they all got spoken for. Hell even my younger bro’s, Jingles and Bronzy, got drafted this year. The Preds got them both, if they’d a picked me then they coulda put together the world famous “Wheats Line” again – like the old days. Bronzy is like thirty years old or something and Jingles I think is thirty-two. Shit, that’s pretty old to be drafted. I think, maybe, the league is getting a bit desperate. Sure, Bronzy can dangle with the best of them and Jingles has always been one hell of an enforcer – but what the-hey? Both of these boys are walking with wood for sure – just like the early round kids. I’ve heard rumors that some other beer league bangers and buttholes got drafted too. What have you guys heard? I can’t get enough in-depth reports to confirm yeah or neigh on this locker room tale.<br /><br />Got to cut this off for now. Basement requirements prevail. I’ve got to get it done someday soon.<br /><br />So the rest a ya scalawags have gotta continue to skate hard and walk with wood when ya can.<br /><br />Jasper, here, until next time.Walking with Woodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04804585558741446527noreply@blogger.com0