The story of my hockey playing days.

[maddmaxx]

As a youngster I was hockey crazy.  I got to watch the likes of John Bucyk, Don McKenney and Ted Green on over the air telivision when the Bruins played.  I played pond hockey all the time.  I was a happy boy.  Then I joined the navy and lived in the south for years with no hockey anywhere.  I sort of gave up on the sport.  I was sad but I made up for it with NASCAR racing and pro football.  

I was discharged, got married and returned to college at UCONN where I found an active student league of pretty good north eastern hockey players.  I began to play again, not pond hockey this time but full tilt boogey pads, helmets and all the other trappings.  It was fun, but alas, all the years of living in the south had robbed a lot of my skating skills.  I was slower, had less of a shot.  I became a defensive defenseman always partnered with a more offensive defenseman who carried the puck out of the zone while I covered his back.  Actually I became a bit of a thug.  My motto was nobody gets by me still standing.  I put more men on their backs than Deborah Jeane Palfrey.  I was having, at least, some fun.  I never scored a goal.  I probably only took 3 shots in the entire season, all wobbling frisbee wrist shots that only had a chance of going in if the keeper was knocked down.

Then came the night of the only great achievement of my short return to the game.  At least it was great from my point of view.  I was involved in a scrum in front of our goal, doing my best to impede an enemy forward, lock up his stick and generally being a pain in the ass.  We became disentangled and I found myself facing the blue line with my stick somewhere up at my upper chest level.  I looked up just in time to see a former UCONN player, who had no business playing in the student league other than being on academic probation, finishing the follow through on an absolutely unabated slap shot from the point.  Then I saw it, a black blob growing larger.  I guess it was a singular point of view of a puck coming straight at my face at an alarming rate of speed.  While issuing a bleat of terror I threw up my hands in a last ditch effort to save my life.  The puck struck with considerable force the shaft of my stick in the 6 inch or so gap between my hands and disappeared somewhere up above the glass.  I lived.

It's probably a sad commentary on my hockey career that this story is the most memorable moment.  No skating around the rink with a trophy.  No groupies.  Just a black spot deflected by sheer luck.

The end.

[jsharr]

So you pucked up?

[12string]

But how did you feel?

(and this is why I wear a cage now)

[Prophet Zacharia]

My highlight, after playing Varsity through high school and club in college was playing men’s league with former NHL goalie Ken Wregget. Nice guy. Fortunately he played defense in the league, else we’d never have scored on him.

[Prophet Zacharia]

3 hours ago, Prophet Zacharia said:

My highlight, after playing Varsity through high school and club in college was playing men’s league with former NHL goalie Ken Wregget. Nice guy. Fortunately he played defense in the league, else we’d never have scored on him.

Actually, in high school we played a game at the Spectrum in Philadelphia. The Flyers played the Oilers that night, so as I came off the ice Wayne Gretzky and other Oilers of the 1987 team were in the hallway, waiting to go on the ice. That was pretty cool.

My nephew met Ovie at his friend’s birthday party. His son and my nephew share the birthday boy as a mutual friend.

[Kirby]

I've always thought of you as MIchael Ontkean.

[maddmaxx]

31 minutes ago, Kirby said:

I've always thought of you as MIchael Ontkean.

That's funny.  I've always thought of me as one of the Hanson brothers.