Perception and Reality

I have done my best to make sure that I don't blog solely about hockey. Trouble is, hockey is so pervasive, it is hard not to say something every now and then.

I ended up gassing a player tonight for calling me a bitch. But let's start with the back story.

As a player, there are times you are positive something has happened to you, that a penalty should have been called, when nothing has actually happened. I remember when I blew out my knee, I was convinced someone had hit me from behind and taken out my knee on purpose. When the pain had subsided enough, I asked my two teammates and one of the refs who had gotten me. They all said that I had collided with one player but no one hit me from behind. A conclusive truth. My perception as a player versus the reality of the game....

Tonight, a player was on a break toward the net. One of the defensive players tried a poke check, missed and his stick glanced off the offensive players shin pad. Not a slash. The offensive player took the shot, missed the net and then tripped over the sprawling goalies leg pad. The offensive player collapsed and slid into the corner. Not a trip. The player, lying on the ice, began yelling at me for the call. He f-bombed me as he was lying on the ice. I warned him to stop. He f-bombed me again. Now we have a 2 minute minor for unsportsmanlike conduct.

This is where training and common sense takes over. After you assess a penalty, you take the long road to the score keepers box to report it. You skate away from the players, allow for some distance between you and the bench to avoid any further altercations. You also do your best not to point directly at a player so the penalty assessment isn't too personal. Even when you want to pull a Nelson Muntz, point at the guilty party, and chortle "Haaaa haaaa."

So I skate away. The player follows, continuing to yell, trying to get my attention, and finally yells, "Look at me, bitch"! OK, that becomes his ten minute misconduct. Now his teammates and my partner on the ice are trying to quiet him down. He is still yelling, enters the penalty box and before he closes the door, sticks his head out and f-bombs me again. That is his game misconduct.

Now, I know I don't get everything all the time. I know sometimes I make mistakes, sometimes I miss a call but I honestly do my best every game. No matter the level, I often pull out the rule book after working to verify that my knowledge and application of the rules is in line with the way the rules are laid out. I don't mean this to be self aggrandizing but it should be known that I do care, no matter what the level.

Perception is inlaid into every part of this game. The players, the coaches, the refs, we all often have a different perception of what has happened throughout a game or in a specific play. In a game situation, it is up to the officials on the ice to have the final say, their perception of the play becomes the reality.

I digress.

After the player is finally removed from the ice, the captain of his team skates over to me. He asks what happened in the corner that resulted in the penalty. I explain that the player began f-bombing me when he was looking for a call. The captain shook his head and stated that the entire bench saw what had happened, their teammate had tripped over the goalie's outstretched leg!

Perception and reality. In so many situations, it is important to remember that whatever perception of any situation in life, reality may be a little different. We have a child on the way who is going to challenge every perception we have of our current life together. And I look forward to the new reality our child will bring to every new day. Let's see if I remember this the first time our sixteen year old dents the Land Rover! Perception and reality.

Yeti Tribe Gathering - Part Deux

I have one regret...we have only one Tribe Gathering per year.

The drive up was fantastic. I traveled with my co-worker Phil and a new friend, Chad (from Shimano) to Eagle, Colorado on Thursday night. We stopped off at Pazzo's Pizza in Eagle to meet up with Rob. One Azteca later (yummy but I didn't need the fourth slice), Chad and Phil headed off to Fruita and I went with Robbie to his new house. What a beautiful place...I wish I had pictures to show because there is no good way to describe how gorgeous it is. Kelly was asleep already, as was Shaw, their toddler...well, more of a walker now. We just packed the car, chilled and caught up since we haven't seen each other in quite some time. Talisker came to say his usual greeting and was very happy to see a friendly face coming into his house.

The next morning I wandered upstairs to see Shaw walking about! He was a little shy at first but warmed quickly. A quick hello with Kelly too before Rob and I hit the road and headed for Fruita. We arrived before most Tribe members, quickly set up our camp site and then I headed out to help out with Tribe set up. Rob went for ride #1.

At 4, Rob got ready for ride #2 and I geared up for a quick ride with him on Mary's Loop to Horsethief Canyon. Once again, I am at a loss for words to describe Fruita and the riding. You are often on rock or in sand and the view is simply phenomenal. The hike-a-bike section down to Horsethief drops you past several millennia of geologic history. Horsethief, is a quick little screamer and over way too fast. We should have done a second loop but I decided saving energy for Saturday was important.

We got back to camp just as Ben, Rabbit, Loren, Hope and Gibson began rolling in. Rabbit and Loren even showed up with extra burritos for Rob and me! Hope and I don't get to see these guys nearly enough. Ben is an old friend from Middlebury who was my riding partner, skiing partner, overall fantastic friend who suddenly showed up in Telluride after too many years of being out of touch. How good is it to have him here in Colorado? Fantastic! How often do we get to see him? Let's see...6 hour drive coupled with crazy schedules...next to never. A travesty. Rabbit and his girlfriend, Loren hail from Aspen. Rabbit went to UVM with Rob (and Hope) and has quickly become a close friend of ours. Loren rapidly earned our stamp of approval as she fit in perfectly with the crew.

Saturday morning brought the loading of our bikes for a shuttle to the Ribbon. The Ribbon is a rotor scorching, tire roaching descent along a slab of rock just outside Grand Junction. It is wide open with massive exposure in several locations (think long drops over cliffs that come up out of nowhere). You have to be on your game out here and follow the proper route as a wrong turn could result in rapid acceleration (think 9.8 meters per second squared). There are a few hike-a-bike sections that were easily negotiated. From the Ribbon, we hiked out to the top of Tabeguache and followed that down to Holy Cross. Great fun and I was pooped by the end of the ride.

This is not us but it should give you an idea of what the Ribbon is like.

Saturday afternoon brought the arrival of Kelly and Shaw, finally completing our group. This was Shaw's first camping trip and he was a trooper. I think he even slept through the night, I heard him stir around 5ish but he fell back asleep until the sun came up. Good stuff!

We hung out around our camp while Kelly and Loren went for a ride. Upon their return, we settled in for a night of fun and festivity which included a spirited game of Catch Phrase. And the word of the night? Laissez faire. Trust me, you just had to be there!

Sunday, our allergies got the better of us. Hope and I packed up and headed for home. I had a near run in with a Yeti Bettie while watering a plant. She was nearly standing in my crop circle before she realized my efforts to propagate a healthy plant in desert environs. We said a quick goodbye to Ben and then headed to Fruita for a tasty breakfast. Despite a lengthy wait for our food, we were quite happy with our overall experience. Goodbyes to Rabbit, Loren, Rob, Kelly and Shaw and we were on our way home.

Not without one more stop. Vail Village for a second helping of Pazzo's Azteca! To the house where we unloaded, cleaned up and napped. I even found it in me to make it to my drop in hockey session last night. Never made it out of second gear though. Just passed the puck a lot, laughed and had fun being on the ice.

So...the first weekend of fun and excitement this summer was a blast. All of us have agreed that we need to do this again soon. The weekend has reminded me how important these friends are. It's so easy to let time pass knowing that our friendship is solid enough that we don't have to always see each other. Yet it is so important to make the time to see these friends. They are the important ones, the ones that will always be there for us in our struggles through life; to help us out, offer guidance and support, hugs and love. You can't find friends like these just anywhere but we got to see them in Fruita this weeekend.

Ride of Silence

I know things get busy and there are choices we all have to make about things we can and can not attend.

The Ride of Silence is done every year in remembrance of cyclists who have been lost or injured while on the road. We all know folks who have been hit while riding...or worse. My props today go out to Stoner who was hit last year but found it in him to bounce and get right back up. Also to Jess who was hit several years ago and worked for a long time to get her back injuries healed.

This one makes me wish I had not scheduled myself to ref hockey tonight. I'd far prefer to join up with the group and ride in remembrance. There are several rides in Colorado this year, one right here in Golden and I am bummed I am not going to be there.

Whoops

So...last night, I went and did reffed my first two games of the summer adult hockey season. First game was great. Jamie and I laughed and had a good time.

The second game started like the first. We were giggling, having a good time, no problems. Then I got hit in the face with a stick. Not a glancing blow. Drilled. I was able to duck and get most of the impact to glance off my half shield. But not all of it. Nope...the remainder of the whack split my lip open.

At the end of the night, I was driving home, thinking I would like something special. Something simple. Something to pick up my spirits. Something tastefully chocolate.

It's been a long time since I have ordered a McDonald's milkshake. The last time I did, I ordered was taking one to Mark. He had shattered his ankle in a climbing accident on the Flatirons. I did. the first pull was heaven. The second pull was still sickly sweet. The third pull reminded me what Brandon and I had learned oh so long ago.

I felt sick all night long.

Yeti Tribe Gathering 2008 - Fruita, Colorado

The summer of adventure officially starts!

I leave tonight for Fruita, Colorado to ride with the Yeti crew and about 175 other Yeti freaks. Along the way, I get to meet up with some old friends and their baby, I get to ride with other old friends who are making the trek with their Yetis and I get to camp out with a pregger Hope and Gibson.

Good fun! I'll see some of you out there, the rest I shall talk to in the near future.

Oh...and of course, the summer of adventure officially culminates with a tiny new addition....

May 13, 2008

It is the middle of May. Why, why, why is it snowing outside right now?

In remembrance of Sasha

It tears me up when dogs pass away. But it makes me realize how special our time with Gibson is.

This showed up this morning from our good friend Pete and our heart goes out to him. Sasha is a wonderful dog and will live on in our memories.


Sasha 12/27/03 - 5/10/08

If you're receiving this e-mail it's because you, among countless others, touched the life of of an extraordinary dog named Sasha.

Sasha lost her four and half year battle with cancer early this afternoon. As most of your know, Sasha lived the majority of her joyful life with a common disease among Golden Retrievers associated with mass cell tumors.

When I look back at the time that I was privileged to have spent with Sasha, I will always remember what a kind, intelligent and loving dog she was that wanted nothing more from life than another treat and an enduring sense of wanting to appease the ones around her. I will remember her gentle nature and her innate ability to put a smile on the faces of all those who were fortunate to have known her. I will remember her kind face and happy smile. I will remember our long walks/runs along the greenbelt where she loved to terrorize the local rabbit population. Deep down inside, I think she knew that she would never have the satisfaction of catching one, but for her it was all about the chase. I will remember taking her with me everywhere I went, whether it was on a quick trip to the grocery store, an afternoon of running errands, an evening barbeque, a day on the slopes at Winter Park, a weekend camping trip to Winding River Campground, a Christmas party at the Boettcher's/Schoech's or on a long road trip to Evanston, she was always by my side. Sasha was always happiest when she was around the ones she loved and the ones that loved her. Sasha and I were fortunate enough to be able to spend every afternoon and evening with each other over the past year and a half while I was at work, as she accompanied me to the rink on a daily basis. I truly believe that this time that we were able to spend together gave her the strength and desire to fight off her cancer as long as she did. Sasha was a part of my family and I can honestly say that I am a better person for having had her in my life. She will always occupy a very special place in my heart and I can not begin to express with words alone how much I will miss her.

I love you Sasha.......and with that I say goodbye to you for now.

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Skating

Skating took two forms yesterday. Early Sunday afternoon I worked as a linesman for the High Plains Club Hockey State Final. Later that night, after a brief visit with our friend Molly, I took off to skate as a player in a Sunday night drop in session I have joined.

Working the State Championships was a bit of a honor and a nice way to wrap up on what has been a fantastic year of reffing. I started out working an Avalanche training camp scrimmage. It was also my rookie year working both the Central Hockey League (semi-pro) and the Atlantic League, a NCAA Div 1 league. 18 CHL games was one hell of a learning curve. Having front row seats to the fights, watching players do some incredible things on the ice and hearing a litany of complaints and praise from everyone, fans, players and coaches made for incredibly fun year. In the Atlantic League, I worked often enough to warrant working the first round of playoffs, another huge honor.

Reffing has made a big change in how I view the game. I have played and I have coached in the past. Reffing is vastly different than those past experiences. There is a fraternity among refs, male and female. Bonds are made, friendships started and one enters into a new family...people who look out for you and take care of you. As a player, you have that bonding amongst a small team. As a coach, the number of close relationships is even smaller. But as a ref, you are one part of a tremendous organization...and you can pretty much skate with anyone. You see new nuances to the game. You see how players disappear into empty space, how they set up to get that next pass. Not to mention that you are actually paid to skate round and flap your arms like a flock of sea gulls!

But lacing up the skates, grabbing a stick and heading out to play? There is something about playing hockey that borders on a drug induced high. Looking up ice, making that perfect pass that connects to your friend's tape, seeing a hole that you can thread a puck through to the back of a net; nothing can beat it. You come back to the bench with others saying, "thanks for the pass" or "wow!" Nothing can touch this. It is a throwback to the aspirations of our youth. And it affects all of us on the ice, from the 18 year olds to the 65 year olds. On the ice, they channel their youthful form and on the bench, they grin like 5 year olds.

I guess the trick is that as we grow older and find different ways to earn our keep, we need to make sure we hang on to a certain amount of youthful awe that lets us simply go out and play. We should never, ever stop playing.

Mother's Day

It's another Mother's Day (and I have yet to get in touch with my Mom...not that I haven't tried).

Call your Mom. Call your grandmoms.

I'm going to go spend time with the new Mom-to-be.

Perhaps it's time...

Time to start writing again. It's been way too long since I have written anything remotely original. Beyond the plethora of email that bounces around, I'm afraid I have not put pen to paper, or keystroke to computer at all. It's not that I haven't been inspired. A few have been subject to my written rants or rambling calls but I find I feel much more centered if I actually put additional time into my thoughts.

Time for spring to break into summer. Winter seems to be trying to hold on this year. Not that it bothers me so much. But I'm more ready for all of hockey to be over, not to think about what rink I need to be in next, what sweater to take with me to the game, which whistle will actually work.

Time for me to really start riding my bike(s) again. Injury ruined last summer's riding...for the most part. Road was ok but riding on pavement gets way too monotonous. This summer will be all about shedding extra hockey weight (says the guy eating a bag of chips).

Time to finish up the house. For multiple reasons. We have so much to do, so little time and such a small budget. It is all coming together but not having a houseboy to do all of the work puts the bulk of the burden on me now.

Time to become a Dad. The biggest step of all. The most time consuming of all. The one I am most excited about and most scared about. But I look back at the role models I have and had and I know I am far better prepared for this new step than so many others. I think of my Dad, I think of Skip, I think of my brothers, I think of my grandfathers, I think of my closest friend's fathers who have helped guide me along the way. I couldn't find better training, I couldn't read better books, I couldn't ask for better guidance. Now there is only time to wait for each passing day until the little one is fully cooked and ready to be out.

It's time.