A CRAAB Christmas Hockey Carol

December 22nd 2009, 2100 hours, Beverly Building.

It had rained all day, at one point had even hailed. The unprecedented number of players from all over CRAABdom who were answering affirmatively to the last minute call to arms made the probability of canceling due to inclement weather sting like a raptor kick to the nervous system. However, when I drove by the court at 8 PM it had not been raining for a couple of hours, and though the court was drenched, the water wasn't pooling and that meant we could play. Hockey was on!

Team Marley, Marley & Scrooge were as good as their word, showing up 30 minutes before any other CRAAB players. The wager this time? The winning team would receive a life altering vision on Christmas Eve night . . . and the losers would receive crippling self-doubt and rusty blades.

Because CRAAB outnumbered Team Marley, Marley, & Scrooge by four players, we had to divide up into three teams and rotate in.

I would give a play by play description of the sopping wet Hockey that went down between CRAAB and Team Marley, Marley & Scrooge but, in the spirit of the season, I'll refrain. Instead I will simply say that we lost and Team Marley, Marley & Scrooge left the court that rainy winter night whooping their battle cry and boasting how big the turkeys they will buy for their employees will be . . . once they have their change of heart.

Though the crushing blow of defeat stung like an inclement weather canceled hockey game, it was undeniable that a general feeling of goodwill for our fellow man was palpable in the air . . . which incidentally feels exactly like playing a great game of Hockey.

God bless us, every one!

Hockey of Thanks: 2009 - "For the first time since 1945 the World hangs in the balance!"

The year 2009 will be recorded in The Chronicles of the Blade as the year that CRAAB Hockey saved Democracy. It was also the first year we had a team to play against.

It was early Thanksgiving morning, November 26th, 2009 when I arrived at Emerson's Parking Lot. Team Der Hockey Frau's manager, "The Major", already had his players out on the court and warming up when I got there. Of course, I was the first CRAAB member there.

"It's post-8 AM and your team of Combat Rebels is suspiciously tardy. Perhaps zis is some kind of joke?"

"Only a joke on your punctuality, Toht. It'll be another 45 minutes before enough CRAABs show up to play."

"Well played, Herr Glass, but it will be the last time you have zee uppa hand."

. . . and for the most part, he was right.

The teams were:

Der Hockey Frau

VS

The Defenders of the Free World

The Fraus came out fast and strong, taking a precarious lead over the complacent CRAAB. "Hey, no body checking . . . at least not on purpose!"

By the second water break CRAAB was down by four goals . . . by the third, six.

The nonagenarian Fraus were handing out the seats of CRAAB pants with such an unrelenting efficiency that things were not looking good for us or the American Way of Life.

As the end of the game neared, it appeared that all was lost . . . but remember, that's when the miracles happen, just like the one that happened that bright Thanksgiving Morning.

Actually, it was a miracle in three parts.
1. Steve "took one for the team" when Major Toht called for a play known as The Face Melter, bringing CRAAB within three points behind the Fraus before losing consciousness.
2. At that moment Josh rolled over in bed, thought about Hockey, and then fell back asleep.
3. Right then the phone rang. It was the President of the United States and he wanted to speak to Caleb McKay.

In a rally of renewed determination CRAAB tied up the score with the Fraus.

"Next point wins"

Three taps on the ground, three on the stick, and the fury was unleashed. CRAAB and the Fraus exchanged control of the ball seventy six times in an unparalleled display of the velocity combat of stick and blade.

Suddenly the ball was knocked high and wide, and when it landed Wesley Burnham was the only one near it. As he lined up the shot, Wesley called on the spirits of of all the turkeys that lost their lives for Thanksgiving 2009 to guide his shot.

"Gestapo Spank!"
The Frau goal tender dropped into the splits reaching for the orange blur . . . "but not today" . . . the ball glanced off the edge of her glove and spun wild through the net-less goal.

"CRAAB WINS!!! CRAAB WINS!!!

LET FREEDOM RING!!!!"

As the Fraus packed up and departed, we all stood for the Pledge of Allegiance, and it was said in Mesa that day, that there wasn't a free dry eye within a 40 yard spread Emerson Parking Lot.

"That was some good Hockey."

Catalyst of Hockey

by Tim Boyle (2001)

Fare-Thee-Well Hockey: July 2009

Boy: Grandfather, tell my a story!
Grandfather: Alright, go and get your storybook.
Boy: No, no, not one of those, a real story!
Grandfather: A real story?
Boy: Yes, tell me about when you were a boy.
Grandfather: Well, then, I shall have to take you back with me, a long way in time...



It was the evening of the eighteenth day of the seventh month
Of the two thousand and ninth year of our Lord.
As I walked through the old neighborhood, I heard the sound of blades, and speed,
I felt compelled to walk on and find the place of these sounds,
And when the houses did clear I was standing
On the fabled battlefield of Beverly.

Suddenly a gust of wind came up from the North,
There appeared a lone player, holding a mighty hockey stick,
Then from the east came another, also bearing a hockey stick of power,
And finally from the west, a player who also wielded a great hockey stick of war.
They were few in number but the look in their eyes told all who
Beheld them that they would leave this day
Only in victory or death.
And there was a Great silence...

I watched the three players raise their weapons into the air.
And the three spoke the words of the Hockey Warriors Prayer.

"Gods of Acceleration I call you,
My stick is by my side.
I seek a life of honor,
Free from all false pride.
I will shoot goals with a bold mighty hail.
Cover me with death if I should ever fail.
Glory, majesty, unity
Hail, hail, hail."

And as I stood and looked on, I heard the
Armies of the world hail them without end,
And their voices of victory carried
Long and far throughout the land
As they met on the battlefield with a mighty clash!
I could feel the ground shake,
The earth drank much blood that day.
Each of the three, was unto himself, a whirlwind of doom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Grandfather: Well, that's it, did you like the story?
Boy: Yeah, it was great!
Grandfather: Oh good, I'm glad. now off to bed with you.
Boy: Grandfather?
Grandfather: Yes?
Boy: Who were those three men?
Grandfather: Who were they? They were Boo, Caleb, and Kohl . . . the HOCKEY KINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!*

So how did we play with three players? By an act of sheer WILL. We played 2 vs 1, rotating after each goal. Surprisingly it wasn't all that bad . . . though it was exhausting. We only played for a little bit then went swimming at the Lovely Oleander Pool.

This upcoming August marks the first time in the history of CRAAB that there will not be enough consistent hockey players in Mesa to hold "regular" hockey games. What will be Hockey's role in CRAAB's future? That is unforeseen. I'm sure The Hockey of Thanks will still be held annually, as will other special hockey events . . . but the casualness of CRAAB Hockey, the, "Hey, I want to play hockey, let's plan a game for this weekend" is leaving for that special Motorball place. NO!!! I will find a way to keep you alive CRAAB Hockey . . . I will not let you go quietly into the night!!!

*Inspired by The Warrior's Prayer by Manowar

"No, Officer, No Sexual Tention Here."

Did it go in?!!!

Negative, negative, just impacted on the surface.

Wait, where's Tim and Iris?

They're over there . . . on the ground.

Ah FETCH!!!!

It was a time of frequent and intense Hockey. The sweet strains of The Touch, Tarzan Boy and Get Out of My Way echoed out over the dusty parking lot of Emerson Elementary, where we swarmed through the night like insects in pursuit of the sport. There was adrenalin, there was velocity, there was camaraderie . . . and there was Tim and Iris.

Sometimes Tim and Iris were on the same team, and sometimes they were not, but they seemed to always end up on the ground together "fighting" . . . but like sea lions.

They weren't married then . . . in fact, this behavior was observed even before they started dating; back when there was love, but it was mostly unrequited, and a "Just Friends" status that was trying to be maintained.

Normally this wouldn't be a big deal. I mean, if you want to roll around on the ground in a filthy parking lot with a girl of comparable height, "More power to you!" that's what I say. But during this period, Tim was topping James McKay's list and was always one of the first picks. So to have one of your big guns "out of commission" for a handful of goals was a little tiny bit frustrating . . . and if Tim and Iris were both on your team you really got the shaft.

So the rest of us would watch them frolic with a mixture of amusement and disgust, joking mercilessly to cover the uncomfortableness, and wondering when are they going to stop denying their feelings for one another so we can get back to playing Hockey.



Sometimes when you're "Just Friends", being "Just Friends" isn't enough. Sometimes you also gotta be "Parking Lot Hockey Sea Lion Wrestling Buddies" too.

Hockey is Not a Crime: Part 2

Years upon years, eons upon eons, times a million and you would still not be close to how long we have been bothered by Mesa's finest. The conflict is old and bitter. - Steve Crandell

(Taken from a post on 10/20/01)

The Following is The Steve Crandell 5 Step Plan for making sure we are never kicked off the court again.

Step 1: make sure Josh is there the night the plan is to be set into motion.

Step 2: Make Josh play with one of the really old stick that are in the back of my truck

Step 3: Add one officer

Step 4: Wait until the Officer has said his spiel and is waiting for us to leave.

Step 5: Enter Josh: <in a nearly inaudible whisper> "When I was thirteen, <getting louder> I wanted to try swimming <face begins to redden> But they shut the pool down for resurfacing. <louder> When I was 15 I wanted to try basketball, <almost yelling> but the PTO shut the program down for that year because a kid broke his ankle the season before <face continues to darken and voice continues to rise>. When I was 16 I wanted to play paint pellets, but the legislature had passed a gun control law that shut down paint pellet fields for 6 months. <face is now nearly purple and jaw is rattling back and forth as entire cranium quivers with rage> ALL I WANT TO DO IS PLAY SOME SORT OF SPORT WITH MY FRIENDS!! <The Brunsdales windows are shaking> BUT YOU!! YOU HAVE NOW TAKEN THIS <Breaks hockey stick over knee (shows no pain)> EVEN THIS, MY MOST FAVORITE SPORT IN THE WHOLE WORLD AWAY FROM ME!!! <doubles up the broken pieces of the hockey stick and breaks them again (still no pain)>. CRIMINALS RUN RAMPANT IN THE STREETS, DRUGS FLOW LIKE WARM HONEY THROUGH OUR NEIGHBORHOODS, BUT RATHER THAN WORRYING ABOUT THAT, YOU <breaks all four 8 inch lengths of his hockey stick>, YOU!!! HAVE TAKEN THE TIME TO STOP AND HARASS A GROUP OF LAW-ABIDING CITIZENS WHO WANT NOTHING MORE THAN TO RELAX FOR ONE FRIGGIN NIGHT AND PLAY HOCKEY ON A WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAP ASPHALT HOCKEY COURT THAT ISN'T WORTH THE TIME THE ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT WORKERS PUT INTO MAKING IT. <throws the pieces of his stick into the air and lets an inhuman screech out into the night sky>. <voice returns to a whisper as Josh slowly advances on the officer> But you know what? You know what? <finger is held aloft, it too quivering> It was good enough for us. We didn't complain. We didn't complain at all that there is nowhere for us to play in this whole, corrupt, underfunded, hot city. Instead we made do. <now stops advancing on the officer and looks him up and down> We're going to leave now, but before we do, I want to ask you to do me one favor. The next time you find yourself approaching a vehicle full of gun-wielding gangsters, or having to storm a crack house, or do any of the hundreds of dangerous parts of your job, I want you to think about how much you would rather take all the would-be criminals in this city and give them a place to play games, play sports, or maybe just socialize. How you'd rather provide a hundred things for them to do so that you don't have to risk your neck again, because just a few of them chose athleticism over crime. And when you think how nice that would be, I want you to think about tonight when you kicked a bunch of honest kids off their court, and into the night. Think about that, and then wonder, every time you lock another kid up, if it was one of us. <Kneels down and removes skates, throws them into the sand. Turns and walks slowly away without a backward glance as the theme to Braveheart slowly begins to echo and reecho in the distance.>

Motorball: Exhilaration goeth before a Fall

Flight
speed across smooth cement
reaching up to hold and kiss you
wind
resisting the slice of your body through the night
the grip of the sphere in your conquering hand
almost there
legs pump
smooth strides toward victory
imagination sparks
laughter calls
Exhilaration goeth before a fall

I sigh and mark another takedown.

- Chris Glass "The Motorball Oracle"

Chronicles of the Blade: Hockey is Not a Crime!

Back in the late 90’s/early 00’s, CRAAB had a very real problem with the police kicking us out of the Emerson Elementary Parking Lot in the middle of our nighttime games of Hockey. An appearance of a police cruiser on Westwood St. was a sure sign that we should start packing up to go home. There was a stretch of a couple months where, I believe, every single game ended not with a winning goal but with police interdiction. It got so bad that we tried playing at other locations for a while, but none suited our needs and proximity as well as Emerson. Eventually the police harassment faded away. I think I heard something about some CRAAB member talking to the head of the school board and getting permission to play there or some such. I don’t have the details on that, but the festering ball of frustration that was The Battle for Emerson: CRAAB vs The Cops is still there in our collective hearts, and should be celebrated at every chance.

Hockey: Craab Day 2009: Saturday March 7th

Craab Day 2009 began as it should have, with Hockey in the Emerson Parking Lot.

Players in attendance:
Jacob Shepherd

Heather Shepherd

















Kohl

















Boo

















Zeke

















Westley Burnham

















Steve

















Before we started I had to do a little surgery on Cash to replace the head. Actually Steve did the surgery, I just held her down and kept her from screaming.


The teams were Boo, Zeke, Jacob, and Westley vs. Steve, Heather and myself. Over all this was some of the sweetest Hockey we've had in a while.

Hockey: December 27th, 2008