As we warmed up, I tried my little slide stops again, with less success than the past few weeks. Fearing a backslide, I really committed myself to one such attempt, stumbled, nearly fell, and decided that was enough for this week.
The horn went off to signal that the game was about to start, but we had no coach.
Coach Steve called us over to the Gold bench, and said, "Joe's on his way, he'll be here soon. Just split up, 4 D, two lines. You guys can figure it out."
My trio ended up skating second, and I was paired with my usual center (Speedy) again as we looked to continue our goal-scoring rapport from the week before.
Our goalie for the game was a new guy, the friend of one of the Team Gold skaters. We'd be facing the usual goalie, Powder Blue Plymouth Whalers Jersey guy, who is way too good to be facing us. However, I'd beaten him the week before, so I assumed I was in his head and he'd simply cower and hide if I got a clear shot on net.
Our teammates did little on the first shift, and we took to the ice after an offsides call, myself on the right wing, Speedy playing center, and Other Guy on the left.
The first shift started off pretty well, as we controlled the puck off of a faceoff and entered the offensive zone. Team Gold eventually worked it out, but we sent it back in and Speedy, in on the forecheck, someone got control of a loose puck and flipped it on net from a bad angle.
At first, I thought Whalers Jersey had saved it easily, but then saw the puck drop behind him into the crease. I was skating in from the blue line at this point, but could see the puck just wobbling there, inching towards the goal line.
"BEHIND HIM, BEHIND HIM, IT'S LOOSE," I screamed, as I was too far away to do anything about it but hoped a teammate could pounce. No such luck, however, as the goalie turned and recovered in time to scoop it up, right off of the goal line, about a half-inch from going in.
We didn't know it at the time, but that would pretty much sum up our line's night: "almost, but not quite."
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| Unfortunately, hockey is neither horseshoes nor a hand grenade. |
Our teammates gave up a rebound goal on their next shift, and suddenly Team Teal, once untouchable, was down 1-0 just a few shifts into the game. Coach Joe showed up shortly thereafter and was typically upbeat, saying, "geez, I miss five minutes and you're already losing?! What the hell's going on?"
My line's next shift was fairly unremarkable, as was the one after that. Our problem was that we could get the puck into the zone, but then couldn't do a tremendous amount with it. Team Gold had two defensemen who were very smooth skaters, and two who weren't as good (skated more like yours truly). Smartly, Coach Steve paired each smooth guy with a non-smooth partner, staggering their D instead of creating one super-pairing.
We'd get into the zone, and look to make a pass to the soft D side, but it'd end up just out of reach, or skittering into the corner off of a stick.
On our last shift of the period, I collected a loose puck off of a face-off and sent it back to Red Pants, our best-skating defenseman aside from that one player who is really too good to be playing in a beginner clinic but shows up anyways (not that I resent it, of course. No, not at all). He moved a bit to change his angle and fired one on net. I was in the slot and it looked to be going wide, so I reached out to deflect it. I ended up catching a piece of it, but it went wide anyways.
The period ended with us down 1-0. Coming off of a goal in the last scrimmage and settling in to my new pure goalscorer role, this wasn't the start I was looking for. It was less "goal horn" and more:
The second period didn't go much better for my linemates and I, but we continued to put on a little pressure. However, the theme of "SO CLOSE" would continue, and the frustration mounted, much like the last game against the Booze Brothers.
On our first shift, I headed back to my right point as Red Pants collected the puck behind our net. I made myself available for an outlet pass, though since he was such a good skater, he usually didn't bother. This time, however, he hit me with the puck. Remembering what Coach Joe had told me last week ("When ya get the puck, ya stop! Ya gotta keep skating!"), I looked up and started skating, carrying the puck with me.
I saw that we had, at best, a 3-on-3 developing, but Team Gold had another backchecker coming. I carried the puck up and across the blue line, with one of their good D on me. I didn't think I had a pass, so I just shot one slow and hard ("hard" being open to interpretation here, of course) that was easily gloved down by Whalers Jersey. Not exactly a laser beam.
Our shift ended a few moments later when we were whistled for offsides (apparently I went in early, though I didn't think I did), and Coach Joe had some words of wisdom when we got back to the bench.
"You gotta make the defensemen make a mistake," he said. "Don't just stand there, skate at 'em! Make them make a pass, force the issue. If ya stand there, they get time to think. Pressure!"
A few shifts later, we had another golden chance to score. The puck was in the corner of the offensive zone, and Other Guy on our line went in after it. He got to it, turned, and wheeled a blind centering pass into the slot, which is never really a bad play in our league. It ended up on Speedy's stick, and he shot it towards the goalie, who made the initial save.
However, he left the rebound out front, and Speedy beat his man to it and shot it back on goal...then shot again...and again...and again, while Other Guy and I crashed the crease like seagulls going after scraps of bread. The puck was just SITTING there in the crease, right next to the goalies blocker/stick, but Speedy couldn't lift it over. Finally, a Gold defenseman got a whack at it and sent it into the corner. Poor Speedy couldn't buy a goal.
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| Jack Edwards should borrow that one: "Swarming the crease like seagulls after a scrap of bread!" |
The second period ended without me having much impact on the play, and frustration ruling our line. So close, but not quite good enough, and we remained down 1-0. On the bench, Coach Joe had some inspiring words for us before the third.
"Look, this goalie is good. Anything you shoot at him high, he's gonna save," he said. "The only way we're gonna score on this kid is on a rebound, so shoot. Shoot it low and hard, low and hard, then get those rebounds."
Filled with confidence in the knowledge that our feeble shots wouldn't trouble Whalers Jersey, we headed back out there for the third, looking to tie the game. On our first shift, we made sure that a comeback would be as difficult as possible.
After some initial pressure in the offensive zone, one of our defensemen misplayed a puck at the attacking blue line, and Team Gold was off. They had 3-on-2, but one of their smooth skating defensemen jumped up to make it a 4-on-2. Myself and Speedy skated back to catch up (though not very hard, at least in my case), and I ended up watching from near the blue line as our goalie made the initial save, then a second one, but couldn't stop the third, and we were down 2-0.
Minus-1 and nothing close to a goal. Rough night.
We skated to the bench after that goal, and came out determined to right the wrong on our next shift. I ended up controlling the puck down the left wing (don't ask me why I was over there, I have no idea), deked past a defender, and backhanded it towards the goalie, hoping for a rebound. He blocked it behind the net, where I went and got it and sent it back towards the point, only to have it deflected and corralled by Team Gold.
Later in that shift, I forced a turnover along with wall and went in after it, only to find the puck in my skates. For me, having the puck in my skates is pretty much a death sentence. I'm not good enough a skater to look down and find it, nor can I stop fast enough to let it catch up with me. If it's in my skates, it's as good as gone.
It was at that point, heading towards the bench after that near-turnover, that the frustration level rose. The problem wasn't with not knowing what to do; the problem lies in the fact that I know exactly what I need to do, but can't quite get my skates to do it yet. It's kind of like having this really sweet car, only to find it has a manual transmission, so I don't know how to drive it: I love the game, know what to do, but can't get it yet. In time, though. In time.
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| Hockey for me. |
Right before we took our last shift with about four minutes left, Coach Joe told us that everything needed to go on net, just shoot the puck. We controlled the puck and I stationed myself in the slot, as Speedy collected the puck on the half-boards. He sent a centering pass that got past the first defender and was heading towards me, only to be nicked and sent into the corner by another Team Gold player.
Towards the end of the shift, I went into the corner with one of the lesser defensemen and emerged with the puck, curling off the wall back towards the slot. I was on my backhand, but, heeding Coach Joe's advice, shot it anyways. My backhand was turned aside and into the corner by Whalers Jersey, not even generating a rebound. To make it even better, the force of the backhand and awkward positioning of my skates sent me, to quote Jack Edwards "tumbling head over tea kettle" in the slot.
Our shift and night ended shortly thereafter on an icing call, meaning my last action of the night was dusting myself off and getting up off of the ice, hoping no one noticed that tremendous tumble I took.
Stupid fancy cars. (Metaphors!)
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