Drawn entirely from memory in 2001
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, December 24, 2009
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.
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.
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!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
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."
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
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!!!!!!!!!!!!*
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
Sunday, June 14, 2009
"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.
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.
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