Pain. Lots of it. And a graduation, of sorts.

Hi everyone! So, how have your weeks been? Much going on? What shall we talk about. Bit breezy outside, isn’t it. I had a lovely blueberry cake from Tescos on Saturday. And I’m off for a work night out tonight. How about you? Any gossip? Anything to avoid facing the grim reality of our horrendous weekend of ice hockey-induced misery, eh. It might well have been the worst week of our season so far. But I’m committed to shining a positive light on all things Vipers and I’m not going to back out now, so if you need a bit of a boost, stick with me, and I promise to do my utmost to lift the fug of doom and despondency that seems to have been hanging over us since Monday morning. I may have to resort to telling knock, knock jokes to do this, or perhaps I’ll attempt to draw another picture, that went well last time. But cheer you up I will! It is my raison d’etre. Que?

Anyway, I suppose I’m obliged to provide some sort of match report for our most recent puck-chasing exploits, am I? Um, we lost on Saturday. And got right royally rogered up the proverbial rink on Sunday. Will that do? Okay fine, I’ll note some details for posterity.

Coventry Blaze were the visitors to Whitley Bay on Saturday night. It’s fair to say that after our last two games against them, victories both at home and on the road, Vipers fans were relatively optimistic. How very wrong we were to have such a positive mental attitude! Slapped wrists all round! The game was dismal. It was a huge anti-climax after the incredible win over the Panthers mid-week, and I generously surmised that perhaps the team were saving themselves for the return leg the following day, rather than just being a bit rubbish, but in all fairness, the poor lads looked tired. With a sum total of none of our two-way players available we were down to the bare bones of the squad, just 10 skaters – in short, not enough.

The error-strewn first period set the tone for the rest of the evening, and Blaze inflicted only our second home shut-out of the season, scoring four goals of their own despite not putting in a particularly electrifying performance themselves. The same could be said for the match official who was responsible for some distinctly suspect calls, including the non-ejection of Blaze’s Brad Cruikshank, despite the fact he punched two Vipers players AND a linesman, completely unprovoked. What do you have to do to get thrown out of a game these days?

Brad Cruikshank lays Toms Hartmanis out, seemingly on advice from the match official, who clearly wants a bit of it.

Danny Stewart took the Man of the Match award, the coach never giving in against his former club, skating the length of the rink over and over again trying to inject some life into his listless squad and taking and receiving numerous hits in the process. It was an altogether forgettable affair - thankfully - as I don’t think many Vipers fans would have this match down on their list of season highlights. I heard a number of interesting topics being discussed during the course of the match however which brightened the evening up, for example people’s breakfasts and the nature of black pudding, the peculiarities of people originating from the Ashington area, and the relative merits of Newcastle United. All worthy subjects, of course. Well, except for the last one, maybe.

What I learnt about ice hockey on Saturday night: hockey jerseys have what is called a ‘fight strap’. Honestly I’m not sure why as I’ve seen many a jersey removed during a melee so they can’t be that effective, and it seems that, unhappy with the pre-installed fight strap, some hockey players have taken it upon themselves to provide their own innovative alternatives. A certain Vipers defencemen ties a trusty 2p coin in the back of his jersey with a shoelace in place of the seemingly useless Velcro appendage. True story. I’m not exactly sure how much better it can be, but it seems somehow menacing; I have visions of said coin being removed and used as a deadly weapon when on-ice tensions boil over. Chilling. I can’t believe that our imports are using our sovereign’s noble currency in such a way. John Schwarz. *Raised eyebrow*

Match official: If I give you fifty pounds, will you shave a bit off and let me have it?

Mike Prpich: No. But you may rub it for twenty.

On Sunday we went to Nottingham and had a big fat dose of Panther-shaped revenge inflicted upon us brutally, as penance for daring to beat them in the first leg of the cup semi-final. It was all rather depressing and I don’t wish to elaborate on it any further, thank you very much. Except to mention that there was a whole five minute period when we didn’t concede! Bonus! The loss hurt badly even though it was expected; actual pain ensued. And the universal sporting truth that a team can’t survive on heart and effort alone is sadly coming to pass. In truth we are sorely missing the bite upfront that was provided by players like Mahovsky and Carroll, and it seems that Danny and his warriors are finally running out of answers to the countless questions that have been asked of them this season by the fans, the league and by British hockey in general. Are the wheels finally coming off? Despite our unexpected heroics in Hull, Belfast and Coventry, and the pure unbridled joy of the win over the Panthers, the state of our weakened bench and lack of imports is finally starting to tell. Dundee had the cheek to win over Hull which further dashed the Vipers’ play-off dreams and suddenly, there seems to be very few fixtures left and the end of the season looms perilously large.

Damn, I’m not doing very well at being cheerful, am I? Sorry. Let’s change the subject a bit. After the turbulent few weeks I’ve had, my disillusionment, worry and subsequent reinvigoration to the world of hockey, the tragic loss of Mahovksy, and my first PROPER fight experience against Dundee, I have to say that I now feel fully initiated into the ways of ice hockey. I have been reflecting recently and have come to a startling conclusion: I’m no longer a hockey novice. Following this alarming turn of events I feel almost ready to graduate from hockey kindergarten to regular hockey fan status. Is there some sort of badge or certificate I can have? Or maybe a secret handshake that I have to learn to be ‘let in’ to the club?

I’m not claiming to have completely mastered the game rules, or to have extensive knowledge of ice hockey past or present, but at some point in the last few weeks, I crossed an invisible line. This morning I went back to read through my first couple of blog posts from back in my heady days of hockey novice-ry, when I hadn’t a clue what was going on, but just gained a vague sense of amusement from it all, and what I see in myself now is a changed woman. I have stopped giggling at fights and spotting players by the fact they skate face first. I can confidently construct a sentence which contains all of the following words: ‘powerplay’, ‘netminder’, and ‘slashing’. I know the names of players from OTHER teams. And the derogatory nicknames for said other teams. I know of the singular phenomenon that is ‘sexy Neilson hockey’. I know what the play-offs are, and how a team gets there, and have already purchased tickets for them, actually. It’s a bit unnerving to be honest. My match reports are starting to make some sort of sense and I’m not making enough ridiculous comments anymore. Perhaps I need to turn to another sport for my share of novice rubbish. Any suggestions? I think I could make a good fist of darts commentary, but mainly because of the amusing WAGs rather than the actual darts. ‘He threw a double top! And another one! Oh he threw a 6. But anyway, what is she wearing?’ No? It'll have to be something more obscure I think. Extreme ironing? Samurai fencing championships? Giant water snail racing?

Answers on a postcard.

Blaze of Glory

Today’s mission – to be brief. As we have another match tomorrow against Dundee, and this match deserves its own post. Being brief, hmm. I’ve heard tell of such a fable in passing but like the holy grail, I don’t think I’ve ever believed it to be attainable. Will it be? Who can say. Probably not considering I have spent the last 3 lines musing over the meaning of being brief. Anyway… Apologies for the rather cheesy title, I realise it’s probably been used by Coventry’s media team a thousand times but hey, what the hell, I’ve cheekily decided to borrow it. For anyone who’s been trapped in a hockey-less bubble and doesn’t want to know the result of last night’s game, well, I would say look away now but I think it’s too late for that, I might have given the game away. Oops!

If there were a Vipers advent calendar, we would barely have enough skaters to fill half the boxes. But what joy would be found behind door number 5. Only 12 players and two goalkeepers were available for tonight’s match, following various departures and injuries, and only three of them were defencemen by trade. Perilous times, or so you would think. Following Saturday’s heart-break in Dundee (a phrase which I have never used before in any context, let alone a sporting one, and hope never to have to use again!) in which we lost in a shoot-out following a 4-4 tied score with the Stars, hopes were high for a reprieve on home soil. Er, ice.

I can’t fail to mention that whilst we were being unlucky in Dundee, all manner of exciting things were going on at the SkyDome Arena in Coventry, as the season’s first bench clearance occurred. Now, contrary to what you might believe if you, like myself, are new to the sport of ice hockey, this didn’t mean a sale at the local DIY emporium. It is in fact an astonishingly mild term for a mass brawl. It was all very exciting, and ended with a topless Alex Penner doing a powerslide across the ice on one knee after being de-robed by a Blaze player. Ex-weapon or no, I’m starting to warm to the guy. I think I'll file him in the box marked love/hate. It also meant that Blaze’s Brad Cruikshank was suspended for the match against us, and although their bench still looked a lot busier than our depleted one, we’ll take what we can get!

Last time we played Coventry, it was only the second game of my fledgling ice hockey career. I was young and inexperienced, wide-eyed and green, Blair Stayzer still played for us and well, we got soundly thrashed. Now a seasoned pro (er, excuse me, stop laughing please), I was hoping we could turn the tables on our opponents, and that this time I would know what was going on. The game started out quietly; last night’s violent exertions must have taken their toll on Coventry, and our boys looked fatigued from their return journey to the wilds of eastern Scotland. The first period lacked something in the way of, well, anything really, and there was not a great deal to excite the hardcore faithful, also depleted in numbers due to the adverse weather conditions.

WE INTERRUPT THIS BLOG POST TO BRING YOU AN IMPORTANT NEWSFLASH! I was quite distressed to learn that in addition to a couple of players leaving, and a couple more suffering injuries, the team had experienced a loss of a much more disturbing nature. Mike Prpich’s beard appeared to have gone missing since it was last spotted during the Drive for Five weekend. Quite where it has gone remains a mystery, but luckily it doesn’t seem to have contained his mojo, as he apparently kicked some butt in Dundee, and he scored the second of our two second period goals against Blaze, the first being claimed in style by coach Danny Stewart, on the powerplay. (Is that how you say it. I’m SO almost there with this terminology fandango but I still need reassurance! I’m not like, a proper writer, you know! As long as I don’t say anything completely idiotic like ‘fancy a puck’ or something. Oh wait…). But anyway - if anyone sees Mike Prpich's beard, please could they return it to him immediately? Or bring it to me and I'll look after it for him, and feed it and things. Thanks. On with the match report...

Bosh. Boss man Stewey shows them how it's done in the Toon.

In contrast to the fight-fest in Coventry, tonight’s game was almost incident-free, with only 2 penalty minutes picked up by each side. There was a bit of feisty-ness from time to time, and John Schwarz got hit in the chest with a puck which looked extremely painful but he bounced straight back from it, because he’s brick ‘ard, innit. This wasn’t to say the atmosphere wasn’t intense; the tension wound up as we moved into the third period (cue scary movie music) and Vipers fans feared the usual collapse. With just a few minutes remaining on the clock, Blaze finally struck it lucky and managed to squeeze one by Charlie, and the knuckle-chewing commenced. Blaze pulled their keeper but we stayed strong and scored a third into the empty net. Cue insane celebration for the entirety of the remaining 40 seconds and beyond. With six minutes to go, I had thought to myself ‘if we don’t win this, I’ll…’ I never did figure out what I would have done, but I don’t think it would have been pretty so I’m pleased I didn’t need to worry about it.

I will continue to heap praise on netminder Charlie Effinger, who played an absolute blinder, and prompted me to revert to my cockney roots and say things like ‘go on my son’ and such-like. He saved everything that Coventry threw at him, and was duly rewarded with the Man of the Match award, an honour which he fully deserved, along with the crowd chanting his name. I am massively chuffed for the lad as he’s had it tougher than most over the last few weeks and honestly, you’ve never seen a happier face. I still want to give him a cuddle although I fear now there may be bit of a queue forming. I asked first!

Happy hockey players! This is what they look like!

So that’s that then. I’m still on a high this morning from what was one of my best ever sporting experiences. And that’s not over-stating it. (I’m simultaneously on a self-induced low from the rather over-indulgent celebrating that took place when I got home!). There’s no denying what a win over the mighty Blaze means to the club and its fans. It’s a massive victory for everyone, and I hope that all the players enjoyed it as much as the 612 fans who made the trip did, lord knows they deserved to! Also, My First Hockey Jersey had its inaugural outing, and is apparently lucky! Which is nice. It was on the large side though. I know the players have to fit themselves plus an amount of padding in there, but 2XL is not a size I have ever been familiar with, I’m happy to say. It’s led me to decide that next time, I’ll have to sponsor one of the smaller guys, if only to get something approaching a suitable fit.

Finished! Was that brief enough for you? No? Tough! I could extol the virtues of last night’s wondrous sporting spectacle ‘til the cows come home to be honest, and pretty much have been, but I’ll just leave you with the news that I brought another newbie along to his first hockey match yesterday and the first words out of his mouth as we left Whitley Bay Ice Rink were ‘that was awesome’. If we can have that effect on every new person that a fan brings through the door then maybe, just maybe, the future might not be so bleak.