8/24/06 Tony's new hobby

Tony has rediscovered hockey. He played when he was a kid because the sport actually existed in Illinois, whereas children down here are like, "Skate on ice? That's crazy talk. Ice is for cooling your sweet tea. You'd never be able to even get your foot inside the glass". So when my little Yankee transplanted himself down here, he thought his hockey playing days were over. And they were...until now.

Tony has discovered the one place in town (actually, the next town over) where they teach and play hockey. He's in 7th heaven. Finally, he's found his own little slice of home in the South. Here he can skate, and play hockey, and wear ridiculously bulky padding, and claim that Southerners talk too slow, and that the humidity is killing him, and hate sweet tea with all the other Yankee transplants who have congregated on the rink.

I've been watching this slowly build over the last three weeks. First, he was just going to pop in on his day off and do some skating, just to see if he could remember how. Then he decided that he really should just buy his own hockey skates. Then he brought home the brochure with the class times, scrimmages, and league play dates. Then he was renting the equipment. Yesterday I came home to a living room filled with hockey pads, hockey sticks, hockey socks (which technically don't have a foot, so should really be referred to as hockey leg warmers), hockey helmet, hockey tape (for putting on the stick apparently), hockey jersey, hockey garters, hockey underwear, and a hockey equipment bill for several hundred dollars. It seems that it's officially hockey playing time.

Last night was the Tony's first adult hockey class. (Seeing how he hasn't played in 18 years, he thought he might need to brush up on a few of the skills). I went along for the fun. By the way, I will tell you the reason why no one knows that we even have hockey down here. It's because they only play hockey late at night, when all the sane people have already gone to sleep because they know they have work the next day. The class didn't start until 9:50, and we didn't get home until midnight. My guess is they would automatically double the hockey class size if they started at 7pm instead of 10pm.

Anyway, he got all dressed up in his new little hockey outfit (he looked so cute!) and did the class. (I surreptitiously took pictures while he wasn't looking. Apparently having your wife make you pose while she snaps photos ruins the tough guy image). It all looks pretty easy to me...you just glide around on the ice while holding an oversized stick. Not so, says Tony. It's very hard. Very strenuous exercise. (Apparently Tony's last sport- laying on the couch while watching TV- did not prepare him for this kind of physical activity). But despite the sweat and running into the wall a lot and swinging madly at the puck with 13 other people standing on top of him, Tony's really pumped. I think he's found his calling.