The other day I spoke about playing hockey…well, mostly
drinking, but it started with hockey.
I thought back at the path that led me to that new bar the other night…and
how I wound up playing with this hockey team oh so long ago.
I lived at home after college for around a year. Adjusting back to living under
someone’s roof was not easy. I was
working part time looking for something more permanent. From Friday to Monday I would disappear
to various friends apartments, as I needed to escape. There was a reason I went AWAY to college. During the week I would play open
hockey down at Long Beach Ice Arena.
The times were late, usually after midnight. We would have a few beers in the parking lot after and then
go grab a bite to eat…at whatever place we could find open. I would get home as the birds began
chirping. This put me on vampire
hours. It allowed me to avoid the
other occupants in the house. As
much as I wanted to, I couldn’t keep this up forever.
Soon I obtained a full time job and promptly moved out. I was gone from the house, but also
gone was the late night hockey. To
play at a reasonable hour I would have to join a team. I had read about the NNHA hockey
league. It was an adult league
that played in cities throughout the country…and lucky for me, also Long
Island. The league had
tryouts. We were not professionals
so everyone would make it. It was
just a matter of making sure you were placed on a team commensurate with your
talent.
The tryout was in a few weeks. I had not played in a while so I sucked it up for a late
night skate. It was about halfway
through the pick up game that it happened. The puck squirted down ice towards the net. I chased the puck as the goalie came
out to poke it away from me. We
arrived at the same time. My right
knee…yes the bad knee…collided with his.
I flipped over the goalie.
I was helped off the ice…right knee bent and skate off the ice. I was attempting to prepare for the tryout,
and now it seemed I might miss it altogether.
The days that followed were filled with ice packs. The swelling went down, but the knee
was still stiff. The night before
the tryout, my roommate and I were relaxing, and I was going to call it an early
night. I had not skated in three
weeks and thought it best to take it easy on the knee. Then we got a call from a friend whose
train just got home from the city.
I did not want to go out, but after a little convincing, off we went to
the Railroad Inn. It was around
11ish when we arrived and my friend was already fried. Happy we joined, the first few rounds
were on him. As he began to fade,
my roommate and I hit our stride.
Even as the bar cleared out, we were well involved in a two-man video
game. The quarters and drinks
continued to disappear. It was now
5am…and even the Railroad Inn has to close sometimes. We woke our friend, now asleep at the bar, and walked
home. Tryouts where at 10am.
Asleep at 5:30.
Awake at 8:30. The vodka
barely had time to settle. A quick
cold shower did little to help. A
piece of toast in hand and I was off to Bryan Trottier’s skating academy in
Port Washington. I had looked up
the address the previous night on a map…no, not Google or Yahoo…Rand
McNally. Only one thing I didn’t
know, the town had TWO Seaview Blvds.
I arrived on time but I found myself in a residential neighborhood. I couldn’t imagine an ice rink would be
among the mansions. I luckily
located a local and inquired about the rink. I was told I wanted the OTHER Seaview clear across
town. Great.
I arrived at the rink late, tired and probably over the
legal limit. Skaters were already
warming up on the ice as I scrambled to check in. I skated a few laps around the rink…and guess what, no pain
in my knee! Maybe it was the
anxiety of the tryout or the stress of rushing to the rink…but more likely it
was the vodka still coursing through my veins. The knee held up…even though I barely did. I could only imagine the team that
would wind up selecting me. A few days later I received a call from the league. I was selected by the Buccaneers. The league was a stickler for uniform
uniforms. The NFL’s Buccaneers
first came to mind and I thought where the hell am I going to get a bright
orange hockey pants. Luckily
I would soon find out the team’s main color was blue. The league itself was expensive enough
but I would also have to buy home and away jerseys…around $100 a piece.
The first game was scheduled for the 20 game season. October 21st, 1990 at that
same Port Washington rink. I showed
up early, and sober…I did not want a repeat performance. My teammates had not yet arrived. I came across the captain of the other
team. I asked him about the Bucs,
and he just chuckled. “Good luck,
they were 1-17-2 last season…they probably won’t even have a team after this year.” Great, and I just invested all this
money for the team’s jerseys. I
didn’t want to have to buy new ones the following year. In warm ups my new team looked much better than their
previous record. We wound up tying
2-2 that game. I didn’t figure in
the scoring, but the knee held up in its first real test. I later found out this was a revamped
Bucs team. Many of the previous
players had not returned. We would
go 6-10-2 my first year. It would
be the Bucs only losing season in the next 12 years.
This year the team celebrates its 25-year anniversary, and
for me it will be my 23rd year playing with them. The core of the team still
remains. I would eventually have
to buy new jerseys, but only because they no longer fit…
And I didn’t get any taller.
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