Week 4 (Nov. 5th)

Week 4 of the clinic was another practice, and I went into it expecting plenty of instruction following our lackluster performance during the previous week's game. I arrived at the rink and got dressed in plenty of time, and was standing by the boards talking to a few of my teammates about the other teams we'll play this clinic (the non-clinic teams, i.e. the Booze Brothers, Myth, etc.).

While standing along the boards, I noticed that a puck had gotten stuck in between the protective netting and the glass. It was just sitting there, so I figured it'd be easy to whack it out and either keep it or just throw it into the clinic's bag of pucks. It was just a puck in some netting. What could go wrong?

Five minutes later, there were four or five of us grown men standing around taking whacks at the puck, unable to dislodge it.

"Maybe lift the wire up and drop it out?"

"No, the wire is too tight."

"Can we flip it up and over?"

*Tries and fails six times.*

"Maybe try baseball swinging at it?"

Success! After a few baseball-style whacks, this stubborn puck went over the glass and back onto the ice, and our group of grown men who were foiled by some netting and wire sheepishly took to the ice. I imagine we looked something like a group of cavemen trying to figure out fire for the first time, or like Derek and Hansel working with the computer in Zoolander.

Pretty much.

Practice started off routinely enough, with a few laps up and down the ice, followed by the same thing backwards, followed by some turning (or in my case, stumbling).

After a few minutes, Angry Coach barked, "alright, get a partner!"

Uh oh.

Partner? That means it's the dreaded push-and-pull drill. For me, the push-and-pull drill is more like "holy shit I'm going to fall I'm going to fall I'm going to fall ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I was standing next to Speedy, and figured that since he was a nice guy (and a lot smaller than me), he could be my partner and not run me over.

"Not this drill..." I lamented.

"Yeah, this one sucks," he replied.

"I can't slow down backwards," I admitted. "I just end up flying down the ice, so don't worry about skating too hard."

"Just dig in your blades like this," he offered helpfully, demonstrating the v-shaped stopping pattern. Poor Speedy didn't know who he was dealing with.

As it turns out, all of our fretting was for naught: it wasn't the push-and-pull drill; instead, it was a close range passing drill, where one guy skated backwards and the other forwards, making short passes back and forth. Simple.

Speedy and I completed this drill with ease, both relieved that we didn't have to do the other drill instead.

That drill was followed by some 2-on-0's and some race drills. I did OK with these, only screwing up a few of the 2-on-0's and winning two of my three races.

On one race, I beat my opponent to the blue line and gathered the puck, heading in on my breakaway. He backchecked like he was supposed to, and managed to get his stick on mine as I took my shot. (I slowed down as I got to the other net because I'm still not sold on my own stopping abilities.)

As he skated by, he said something to me about "skating, kid." I have no idea what this guy was talking about, and couldn't tell if he was complimenting me or challenging me to a rumble for beating him. Weird.

Did I offend you, sir?

Practice had been going pretty well at this point, so obviously Angry Coach decided to screw it all up with the weave drill.

This drill had been done a lot over the summer (and in the previous clinic). If you're a new reader (bless your heart), here's what it is:

• There are three lines. The skater in the middle starts with the puck.
• He/she passes it to one wing. He/she then skates to the wing who has the puck. The skater with the puck heads towards the middle and passes it to the other wing, taking his/her place.
• The wing who now has the puck heads towards the middle, sending a pass to the other wing and taking his/her place.
• Repeat, until you get a shot on goal.

Sound confusing? No, it isn't at all. Basically, you make a pass to a wing and follow your pass, taking that skater's place when he/she makes his/her pass. It's really simple.

Seeing as it was the first time we'd done this drill, it went predictably terrible. Skaters stayed in their lane the entire time. Some didn't pass. Others passed to no one. Angry Coach wasn't pleased.

I fared pretty well in this drill, having done it a number of times. I managed to score my best goal of the clinic in this drill, in fact. Towards the end of one of our runs, the puck was on the right wing boards, so I drifted to the front of the net, just in case. Speedy threw the puck towards the crease to finish the drill, where it ended up on my backhand. 

The goalie went down to block my shot, but I quickly shifted to my forehand and roofed it into the top corner, eliciting some stick taps from my teammates. I surprised the hell out of myself, so I can only imagine how surprised the poor goalie was.

David Krejci stealing my move.

Practice continued with a few shooting drills, and ended with the puck battle drill where every skater has a puck on his/her stick and skates around the zone trying to knock each other's pucks out. When the whistle blows, anyone without a puck is out, and a few pucks are taken out each round. I managed to last until the last six skaters, mainly by staying off to the side and hoping no one noticed me.

With three guys left, Angry Coach instructed us to pick a winner: the people who picked the two losers would have to skate a lap, while the winning pickers got a reprieve. I picked a smaller guy who could really skate, and he rewarded me with the whistle-to-whistle win.

We were told we had a few minutes to screw around before the Zamboni came out, so I took a few spins around the ice working on my left-foot stops. I'm starting to find the edge on my left skate, and managed to skid to a semi-stop a couple of times.

It only took me 74 weeks. Progress!