Dog eats from Pasadena Cup

After seven seasons of trying, my team finally won a division title at the Pasadena rink. The division 4 Pasadena Cup, it turns out, is bigger than your average salad bowl.

This is my dog T-Bear enjoying breakfast from the Cup the morning after we won it. I downed my beer from it the preceding evening but I'd drink from it anywhere, anytime.

The Cup has since moved on to another teammate who I pray is heaping other indignities upon it.

--S.H.

Listen to me blather about adult league hockey on public radio!

Warren Olney, the gracious host of KCRW's "Which Way L.A.?," let me spew forth about adult league hockey in a segment on his show today titled "Can the Kings make L.A. a hockey town?" Listen here

The only downside of my appearance is I had to share airtime with Kings radio announcer and blabbermouth Daryl Evans, who turns out to be a radio/ice hog. Hey dude: your shift is up. Get off the ice/radio.

Some hockey mom was also a guest. So you have to listen for a few minutes until Warren allowed a very caffeinated me to enter the fray. I would have loved to talk more about me, me and me -- as well as the NHL generally setting a bad example for the rest of the hockey universe by selling needless bloodshed that distracts from the athleticism and beauty of the game.

Oh well, next time. Still fun.

--S.H.

This week in hockey crimes and misdemeanors

I almost don't know where to start, other than saying my team had a 2 to 1 lead midway through the second period in a playoff game against the best team in our league and we couldn't hold on. The end result: a 4 to 2 loss.

Wow -- the guys on my team played their hearts out. And wow -- I wish I could have joined them. I didn't just play bad. I played stupid.

Bad to the point that I really should have done the team a favor and sat down on the bench and stayed there once it became apparent that I had nothing to contribute. If there's five guys on the ice and one of them is skating around with his head wedged at an unlikely angle up his ass, you don't have to be a NASA scientist to figure out the team is at 80% strength.

So let's get right to it and piece together what I can still remember about yesterday's game.

THE CRIME: I'm at right wing. From behind the goal, someone on my team bangs the puck up the right boards. It gets past me -- I'm out of position and not up against the boards -- and it also gets past the other team's defenseman. So we're chasing it up the boards and he's in front of me and I give him a shove in his back to get him out of the way. He falls, I get whistled for roughing.

THE RESULT: Did I mention we were on a power play at the time? Our one-man advantage turns to a minute of four-on-four followed by the other team going on the power play -- which my teammates manage to kill.

THE LESSON: It's good to play aggressively. But it's dumb to be aggressive when you don't have to be -- and in this case, there was no reason to be. I know what I was thinking at the time -- if I can pick up the puck, I've got a clear line of attack into the other team's zone and we're on a power play and we gotta get the puck out of our own end.

THE CRIME: I'm at right wing. The other team has possession in their own zone, the puck somehow goes sailing all the way to the right side boards, 20 feet from the nearest players -- me and one of the other team's defenseman. We race to get it. He slows to grab the puck, I barrel on through, hoping to pick it up and continue on the boards. He goes down hard against the boards and threatens to "hit me next time," leaving me puzzled why he didn't hit me this time. I'm whistled for roughing. Again. The ref tells me I have to at least try to stop.


THE RESULT: My teammates kill the power play, but we're now down 3 to 2 in the game and we lose two minutes of catch-up time.

Learning the game: Is castrating another player a two minute minor or game misconduct?

My team played its third game of the season yesterday and it was fun but didn't entirely go well from a scoring goals point of view. If that's how you measure success, the other team had four of them to our none.

On the other hand, if you measure success by having fun and having some good stories to tell, then we're achieving some success. We got into our first fight in our second game and it goes without saying that the guy on my team with the least skating experience -- and the last dude to sign up the for the league -- is our leading scorer.

Here's a good one: In yesterday's game, I had a nice collision with a woman player on the other team who while laying on the ice tried to kick me in the balls with her skate blades while suggesting I get away from her. She thankfully missed, I got cross-checked by the team's big dude for my alleged aggression and the more I think about it, the more I'm digging Ms. Castration. While I like my balls, I also like her spunk.

The whole incident also raises the question of when on-ice castration is legal and how it should be penalized. I'm thinking a mere attempt should be a two-minute minor and an attempt that draws blood a one-game suspension.

My lady issues aside, we're now 0 and 3 on the season; it's the first ever league experience for eight of 13 players and it's been years since a couple with real experience have played in a league. I haven't had time to write about the second game of the season, but we lost that one 4 to 2 after surrendering a goal in the final two minutes while trying to tie it up shorthanded.

I thought we would win one by now, but it's pretty clear we're also still learning how to play hockey against a league of mostly younger players although I don't think the age thing is a big deal. Yesterday's game was actually closer than the score, but we're still facing several issues.

I'm going to list some of the things we're doing well and some of our mistakes with the caveat that a lot of these are mistakes I've made. No one on the team is being singled out. I write this as food for thought for all beginning hockey players and teams.

•On the advice of my friend Scott -- who is basically my hockey Yoda -- we tried to evenly distribute the talent on our team across all our lines. It feels like that's working. No one line is getting slaughtered; on the other hand, no one line is achieving monster success.

•We play like a lot of us are nervous, although I'm starting to see more smiles out there.

•We have a severe tendency to chase the puck and get out of position. There are times it's appropriate -- there's a scoring chance or someone needs to be covered. But it's costing us, too. For example, I was playing right wing yesterday and on a couple of occasions I shaded too much to the middle or let myself get sucked too low into the corner. When my defenseman would come up with the puck, I wasn't where I should be, hugging the boards in the neutral zone to take a pass and turn it up the ice and it meant my defenseman had to cover a lot of ground on his own, often with a couple of guys on him.

Well, it's a start -- and I'm no longer a hockey virgin

I finally played in my first official hockey league game yesterday -- along with seven other guys also making their debut and a handful of teammates with a range of experience.

It could have gone better. 

After a rough start and falling behind 4 to 0 early, we scratched back to trail 4 to 2 early in the third period but couldn't get it any closer. Final score: 6 to 3. Hardly an embarrassment but clearly we are better than that.

I was wired before the game. I think everyone was wired before the game -- some early game yips is what did us in. I might have well as played the first 10 minutes with my stick up my ass as I clearly wasn't using it for anything else. It took everyone a few minutes to realize the puck is not a hot potato and, in fact, can be a friend if utilized correctly.

It also seemed to take us a few minutes to remember that Mr. Puck wasn't just going to jump up and leap into the other team's net. Someone was gonna have to give it a nudge.

My own personal lowlight -- which I pondered while laying in bed last night: I was playing defense. The other team tries to clear it, I step up to keep it in and in the process knock over our center who is also trying to grab the puck and do something with it.

Result: Other team grabs loose puck, takes it down the ice on a breakaway and scores. I told The Domestic Partner last night that if I wake up screaming around 4 a.m., that play is the reason why. No wonder The Domestic Partner wants to put me in adult diapers.

All that said, I wish we could play again today. Like right fucking now. I knew hockey was addictive, but I didn't realize it was like having crystal meth shot straight into your veins while washing down uppers with shots of vodka.

Jesus.

I will say the entire afternoon was really, for lack of a better term, a "holy shit" kind of moment. When I was 41 years old, I never thought about playing hockey -- it just never occurred to me. When I was 42 I started skating. When I was 43, I helped put together a team for a league and there I was yesterday in a real jersey, with two refs, a scoreboard and actual spectators. Me? Seriously? In a hockey game?

Well maybe that moron Forrest Gump was right: life is a box of chocolates.

Only six days and 21 minutes until next week's faceoff.

--Steve Hymon