10001110100110101
We had another early (seven AM) game today. The air conditioner continued to make that dripping noise, but it seems as if the boys bought themselves some earplugs since they weren't bothered by the noise. Nor were they woken up by the wakeup knock on our door five minutes prior to leaving (they only needed five minutes to get ready anyway). It took me a while to realize that JCS was out like a light, I never noticed the earplugs or I would've woken him up with a pillow or a stick or something.
We still made it to our game on time. The first game was against Tokyo. Mr. Broomball's team. We ended up beating them 9-0 despite Mr. Broomball's few chances at the net. (Even I got a goal!) He, however, did make an impression on the guys on my team.
"Who's that [Mr. Broomball] guy?"
They kept asking. I kept my mouth shut. I guess the ones I introduced him to during registration forgot already.
Mr. Broomball told me afterward that he knew his team was doomed after I potted one in the net. I decided to take that as a compliment.
We stuck around for a couple of hours before playing our second game against Hokkaido later that morning. We easily creamed them 9-0. I think it was around this time that someone commented about how small my bag was. My sports bag was only big enough to hold my helmet, gloves, and knee pads. I had to carry my shoes, stick and jerseys elsewhere. I guess they didn't really notice that fact and concentrated on my space cramming technique. Well, my technique is simple really. I don't have much equipment. Two pieces of armor that come to mind are shin guards and a cup. Neither of which I have, and both which I probably should get soon (lest I end up injuring a part of me that I really shouldn't have). Oh yeah, that also means that I should go out and by myself a sports bag..
After the second game, some of us decided to look for food in Sidney, a small town near the airport and the arena. (It's about a five minute drive from the airport, and a half-hour drive from Victoria.) None of us were particularly sure where to eat, so we ended up driving down to the wharf and into a little area where there was situated a pub, a restaurant, and a café. We all got out of the mini and started discussing amongst ourselves as to where to eat. This girl who passed by us said,
"Go to the pub, the food's good."
We thanked her for her unbiased advice and asked how she knew about the difference in quality between the eating establishments. Her reply was,
"I work there."
Oh.
So we ended up having lunch at the pub. I had some fish and chips, and they were awfully good. I'll see if I can find my way back there if I'm ever in the area. It shouldn't be too hard, Sidney's a pretty small town..
We made it back with plenty of time to spare for our next game against Eugene. I was still a little bloated from lunch so I didn't play that well. I was also getting tired from all of these games. Just before the game, we got wind of a bet that the two referees made. The Canadian ref (in the blue helmet) would get five dollars if the American ref (in the black helmet) was hit by the ball. We kept that in mind as we got on the ice. We were also told to take it easy on the other team seeing as we were bound to crush them (this was also the same team that had the seventy-five year old goalie). Seeing as we were playing one of the worst teams in the competition, and seeing as our position in top spot was more-or-less clinched, we started penalizing our players for making dumb moves. Any forward who whiffed a one-timer was penalized a dollar, which led to any defenseman who screwed up a pass would also put a dollar into the (beer) pot. This climaxed to a five dollar penalty for an entire line if they stayed out on the ice for longer than ninety seconds.
We had gone up 2-0 or 3-0, when Eugene somehow knocked the ball out from under one of our defencemen (the whistle didn't go) and into the net. Much to the delight of the crowd. (Everyone was cheering for the underdogs.) After that, JCS came up to the bench and asked,
"Can I shoot now?"
Oh yes.. the gloves came off..
So we kept racking up the goals, until near the end when JD remembered the bet and started shooting the ball at the ref instead of the goal. (He had shot and hit one of the refs earlier in the game - on purpose of course. Unfortunately, it was the wrong ref.) The rest of his line picked up on the thread and started hammering their shots at the American ref (in the black helmet). Despite the numerous shots, the ref was able to duck and dodge every single shot and came out unscathed by the time the buzzer went (the shooting gallery went on for over a minute). Afterward, they passed a rule that the refs could not be deliberately targeted with the shot. Oh well.
We ended up beating Eugene 8-1, but everybody seemed to have fun, even the refs. Actually, one of them (I think it was the Canadian one) was singing during the game. Every time he passed by our bench, we heard him muttering a line from one of ABBA's hits,
"..take a chance on me.."
And during the final moments of the game, we heard, as he passed by our bench,
"One minute left in the game."
Which, if you ever watch hockey, was pretty funny to hear.
We ended up first in the mixed division, with only three goals against (and forty-three goals for).
Back at the hotel, JCS noticed that I was writing things into my notebook and asked,
"What are you writing there?"
I told him that it was a journal of sorts, and all he said was that it was a good idea and left it at that.
We didn't do much that night apart from going out for dinner, and picking up some friends at the airport (more people to add to the crazy mix).
[0 Comments]
Despite knowing that we were destined for first place (and Minnesota had second, and Australia had third), the fourth place position was still under contention. The two teams vying for the last playoff spot were Cincinnati and Tokyo. Tokyo had already played all of it's games and had a record of 2-4-1, while Cincinnati had a record of 1-4-1 with one game in hand against the worst team in the league: Hokkaido. (They had a record of 0-5-1.) Even if Cincinnati won against Hokkaido, Tokyo still had the advantage because of the goal difference: Tokyo's goals for and goals against difference was five better than Cincinatti. Cincinatti needed to beat Hokkaido by at least five goals just to tie Tokyo in the standings. Seeing as Hokkaido had an average of seven goals against per game, this was not going to be a hard feat. The Cincinnati game was the second last game of the round robin (right before our last game), so we hung around to watch. I cheered for Hokkaido since I wanted to play against Tokyo and Mr. Broomball in the playoffs.
The game was intense. Tokyo was cheering for Hokkaido, and they were fairly loud, this probably had a positive effect on them because they began to shut down Cincinnati very effectively. Despite having virtually no offense, Hokkaido didn't allow many shots on net. By half-time, the score was still 0-0. This was a good sign for Tokyo since getting five goals in a single half was difficult. However, since our game was next we had to go and get changed.
Oh wait, I never did talk about changing did I? Well, as our team was mixed, we had both guys and girls in the changing room. Yes, it was a co-ed changing room, and nobody on the team thought anything about it. No, there was no blatant nudity, and they did not shower together. However, in that last game..
Being the one with the least equipment to put on, I was ready in just a few minutes. I spent the extra time stretching, and when I realized that we still had lots of time left, I went outside to watch the last few minutes of the Cincinnati-Hokkaido game. Boy was it a doozy, but the time there was only two minutes left, Cincinnati knew that it's playoff changes were doomed, because there still was no score on the board. What was left was for them to try to win the game, so they started pounding shots at the net, but nothing went in, there was always a body in the way! (Those Japanese players always threw themselves in front of the shots, it was quite impressive, although silly if you consider how hard some our Edmonton's team shot).
In the end, Cincinnati was unable to penetrate the wall of bodies, and Hokkaido was able to run away with a tie. They were so happy about that!
Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention that the name on Mr. Broomball's jersey was his first name. (Which is pretty amusing when you see all of those Japanese names and then see [Mr. Broomball].) When I asked him about it, he told me that all of his teammates knew him as [Mr. Broomball], so he decided to use that name instead. Makes sense I guess. (I didn't have a name on my jersey - it just said Edmonton.)
Something else I think I forgot to mention. The goalie for the Eugene team was the same age as the number on his jersey: 75. Yes, he was that old, and yes, for a man of his age, he played remarkably well! He started playing ten years ago (at 65!) and managed to play competitively in the mixed leagues. I was quite impressed, especially since he was a fairly good goalie! (Although he is no Stripes.)
JCS still was entertaining ideas of "ordering out" but that plan eventually degraded to going out to the bar. I decided not to go, but stayed behind to watch TV and do other stuff. When they got back, I was already in bed, but wasn't asleep. Those guys were pretty drunk, and hit the sack pretty quickly. We had these two wall lamps next to our beds, and Brad had turned them off. They had these small round switches that only worked when you turned them clockwise. Turning them counter-clockwise didn't do anything. Furthermore, you had to turn them without too much force or the switch would not work. (Maybe it's a child-proof light switch, I don't know.)
Anyway, JD wanted to turn the light back on so that he could use JCS's cell phone. This boy was obviously drunk, since he started fiddling around with the switch without success. After cussing a bit, he started hitting the lamp. I should tell you that I was on the other side of the bed and that Brad is a fairly big boy so I couldn't see past him. However, being the only sober person in the room, I did hear the commotion loud and clear. What went on for the next two minutes went something like this: *cuss* *thud* *cuss* *thunk* and so forth. With every strike, there was an awful wrenching sound, and eventually something clattered of the wall and the cussing stopped. The light, however was still not on, and JD gave up on that venture. After the noise died down, I went to sleep.
[0 Comments]
