Monday, April 6, 2009

Hockey with some hockey and a hockey helping of hockey. With hockey. Hockey.

It's another Monday and I'm already thinking about the weekend. A whole lot of badassedness is afoot.

Drunken Clams at the Spectrum.
Flyers division hockey.
Flyers again. Agaisnt a division team.
Ice hockey tryouts for Men's League B.
NHL playoffs start soon.

Wow, so yes, actually a whole lot of one thing-- ice hockey.

And yes, I'll be trying to crack a +30 league and playing with the big boys (that's B league for all you C league caliber players). I just hope I don't get so pumped about NHL and Flyers stuff that it carries over into my hockey and I start flying elbowing innocent people. Slide tackle the refs in a friendly pick-up game. Maybe take a 2-hander to the first guy on my new team that says "Hey, I'm Dave welcome to the team." Spit on some teammates kids face and throw dollar bills at his wife. Bite my new goalie's ear. Who the hell knows what can happen with this playoff hockey flying around in the air! Lock up the children and cover the booze's eyes-- crimes agaisnt decency and civility are right around the corner.

I can't wait for it. The violence, the intensity, the cursing, the alcohol, the blood-for-blood revenge. And that's just the family get togethers on Easter!

Iron Maiden - Hallowed Be Thy Name

It's really a countdown to so much more. Playoff hockey is like... I don't know what it's like. Days can go by. Whole weeks will go by and I'll remember horribly officiated high sticking calls (he barely touched the guy!), weak offsides (dude, if they called that offsides like they should have they wouldn't have scored on the Flyers in the 2nd period on that delayed penalty and we would have won), and any number of insignificant on or off-ice details (remember when they showed that dickface sitting on the bench when they went up 5-3 and he was smirking? Yea, I wanted to kick his face in).

I'll remember all of this and I will have no idea what day of the week it is. I will be wearing clothes all day and when you ask me if I'm wearing jeans or basketball shorts I will look down and stare at my legs and still not be able to tell you. I will wake up at 3am and for no reason I will walk to WaWa to get milk and when I get there I will have forgotten what I came for. I will kick this computer over and over and not realize 'hey, this isn't my dog' (that I was going to kick).

Things will not make sense to me. All will be either way too focused or not focused at all. I'll be all out of sorts, off in another world, and totally detached from my own life for about 3 weeks straight. And I'm starting to think it has something to do with me being constantly really, really, really drunk.

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