My
strange obsession with hockey has led me to a new endeavor. I started
watching hockey when I lived in Richmond. I didn't understand anything
beyond icing and fights, but it looked fun. They had a local women's
team that needed players, but I couldn't skate. At that time the city
had a single sheet of ice, and that didn't leave any time for adult
lessons. I dismissed the crazy notion and went on with life...until
this fall. In September I hauled myself out to
Thrashers' Training Camp and was shocked to see a banner hanging at the Forum announcing
How to Skate
classes for adults. I signed up and started taking classes in October.
These classes are filled with adults who have been watching figure
skating for years and want to learn how to twirl and jump. I go to
class in hockey skates, am appalled at the concept of jumping over the
cold bone-shattering ice, and for the most part just wanted to skate
really fast and try not to slam into things. The aspiring figure
skaters must think I'm a strange novelty. It has made for good
exercise and a fine appreciation the comforts of normal street shoes,
but it's not hockey.
Skating lessons also come with passes to
public skating sessions. A girl has to practice so I grabbed Dorothy
and hit the ice last Sunday before the Super Bowl. The rink was
packed, but there in the middle was a mom in the midst of a hockey
lesson. I watched and waited for my opportunity to ask....
How did you manage to get a hockey lesson?
This is what I'd been waiting for. Someone who knew something about a
beginner's path to learning the game. A short conversation, handful of
emails and three days later I find myself dressed in borrowed gear
trying not to fall on my keister during a hockey practice. Covered in
awkward bulkiness, struggling to hold onto a stick that feels just too
long, everything is awkward. My first coherent thought
--This must be how the Michelin man feels...
big, bulky and out of control.
24 hours later my legs ache and my ankles hurt. I have a lot to learn,
like stopping and skating backwards and stopping. But it was about as
much fun as you can have stink'n up some stranger's already stinky
gear.