What was I thinking?

by barbaragarn

Guest blog by [url=http://www.jmshockey.com/profiles/bp6010]Lee Kimsey

“What on earth was I thinking?”
This was the thought echoing in my mind as I left the Hat Trick Arena this past Monday night. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

It all started earlier in the afternoon when I was looking at the JMS website and noticed that the Level 1 session was pretty low on skaters and I decided to sign up for it. I’m not sure whether it was poor judgment, an adventurous spirit or just plain stupidity that compelled me to offer to play as a goalie. I guess I thought, “Heck, half the time they’re just standing there. How hard could it be? This is Level 1 after all.”

Let me pause here and express my profound, heartfelt apology to any goalie who might be reading this, but rest assured you have already exacted your revenge because I actually did it.

So I find myself waiting in the locker room and Barbara comes bounding in, being all energetic in that way that she is (in hindsight I now find this oddly annoying although it wasn’t at the time . . . she knew!), she plops a Gear bag in front of me full of goalie gear.

Does everyone remember a while back she was trying to unload some goalie gear she described as “really smelly?” OH MY GOSH! This was the stuff that DIDN’T smell bad?!?!

So I get past the odor and I find myself confronted with straps. I’ve never actually watched a goalie dress . . . I mean really, it’s not nice to stare in a locker room right? But the straps! Straps upon straps–the last time I saw this many buckles, straps and connections I was 17 years old, on a date in the back seat of a 1967 Chevy. It was no easier then either. But I manage and I only had a couple of straps left over that I didn’t know what to do with (you should see my TV stand).

I head for the ice and quickly discover that I am considerably wider than usual and no longer fit through doorways. I have to walk like I have poopy drawers and I still smell.

In spite of the challenges I made it to the ice without falling down. Once there it took me about 30 seconds to understand the logic behind goalie skates–they are flat for a reason! But I’m doing it. I’m playing goalie (sort of).

Once the game started, you will be gratified to know that my first attempt at shut out was thwarted the very first time somebody actually shot the puck at me. Incidentally, it was Jen Togstad who plays on my AHA team. She will pay later.

; )

It didn’t take me long to discover that playing goalie on my knees saved me a lot of time and energy. Plus my feet hurt less. But I was determined to have the “goalie experience” and got up quite a bit and even managed to make a few saves.

I actually caught one in my glove only to have it pop right back out onto the stick of the shooter who promptly scored on me. Every time I look at Barbara she is on the bench laughing, which is okay, because so am I. t one point I take my gloves off and steam is coming out of them . . . STEAM!

Sweat is dripping off the end of my nose, it runs into my eyes and burns. Let’s not even get started on my feet, my back and the place on my shoulder where the puck hit me. I think they scored a little over 30 goals. But I’m not sure and I lost count actually.

This is probably too long already but here are my conclusions: hot-hot showers were invented by a goalie. Ibuprofen was invented by a goalie. Ben-Gay was invented by a goalie (yes Tim, I owe you an apology). No goalie should ever have to pay to play. If your goalie is a guy buy him beer. If your goalie is a gal buy her beer and pretty things too.

And lastly I promise to never, never, never, never screen my goalie if I can possibly avoid it.