Ice Hockey and Me: A Love Story (originally posted 1st November)

So after a couple of weeks of pesky prior arrangements it was finally time for another hockey Saturday. About time too. The Vipers took on the top side in the league, Belfast Giants, in the much promoted Halloween Havoc clash at Whitley Bay Ice Rink. The impressive number of travelling fans, complete with rather large drum, were so noisy we moved from our regular spot near the back of the bleachers to one row from the front, which turned out to be an excellent decision. It felt completely different. Despite certain areas of the ice being somewhat obstructed in terms of the view, being right next to the action was quite something. It made it all a lot easier to follow. It was also a fly by the seat of your pants-type experience in that every so often, players came crashing into the sidings literally three feet in front of my nose. I can’t say that a pair of hockey players swiftly applied to the face would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but it might be a bit unexpected and possibly a tad sore in the morning. So I’m quite glad the plastic shields held up their end of the bargain and contained both teams nice and safely, with my face unharmed on the other side.

Pic half-inched from Newcastle Vipers website, by Paul Lynch photography. Does it look to anyone else as though two Vipers players are brutally murdering a Giants player? No? Just me?!

I am also proud to say that after three matches, I am finally starting to recognise individual players, not just by their physical appearances but by their skating styles and even their movements on the puck. Some players are more how shall I say, functional in their skating; it's all about getting somewhere, quickly. Which is fine, and necessary. But others actually have real flair, and probably wouldn't look out of place if asked to perform a triple salko in a figure-skating contest. Okay, you might ask, what have you done with the girl who was getting a bit excitable over large brutish neanderthal types beating the crap out of each other. I don't know where she's gone; perhaps my penchant for aesthetics has overtaken my primitive desire for some good old-fashioned violence. Whatever the case, the light-footed and speedy Vipers won me over in last night's match.

I know for example, that my favourite player, Dale Mahovsky, skates sort of face-first (possibly why he lost a few teeth in last week's match), but with the effortless style of someone who has been on skates for at least as long as he has had legs. Possibly longer. Mahovsky's impressive skating, dogged determination and good clean game all cemented him firmly in my heart as my number 1 Viper. He was vying for the position before defenceman Blair Stayzer left the club this week to return to his native Canada, but even without Stayzer's untimely abdication, Mahovsky still would have taken the throne with his performance this week. Toothless though he may be, he is valiant in his endeavours at all times, and actually helped get a Belfast goal written off due to some excellent work reasoning with the referee. Or so it seemed. A bit of a fan you say? Yes I do believe I am. I even wandered across to the shirt auction in the hope of inheriting his glorious Canadian sweat-laced special-edition jersey but alas, I was too late. Next time Dale, your shirt will be mine.

For fear of sounding a bit stalky, I'm going to move on.

Dale Mahovsky, prior to the dental incident. Photo again by Paul Lynch

At this point can I just say, I love ice hockey. I love it, I love it, I love it. I could just roll around and bathe in it. I am so invested in my team already it actually hurts me when they lose. Which is nearly always. And yet, we don't seem to deserve to. We played great on Saturday, despite having next to no defensive players available, and being up against the strongest team in the league. We were really good. Hard-working, some great skills, one of the most incredible saves I've ever seen in any sport by Charlie Effinger (who I'm also becoming quite fond of), a brilliant short-handed goal from Toms Hartmanis, a very jolly atmosphere and overall, a fully uplifting experience. I absolutely can't get enough. And I have a feeling that it’s just a matter of time before the results improve. Hopefully, a very short amount of it.