Well then. Hello again everyone! Where do I even begin to start about the experience that was Saturday night at Whitley Bay Ice Rink? I fell over myself to get to the laptop to write this post and now I'm here, I don't exactly know what to say. Except for...
WE ONLY BLOODY WON!!!!
I'll start at the very beginning. Some nun-type bird once said it was a very good place to start. And I'm inclined to agree. To say that this was a must-win game was a bit like saying that Wayne Rooney earns a few quid. Coming off the back of a nine-game losing streak, Vipers were rock bottom of the league and the Edinburgh Capitals were faring little better, just above them. The temperature at the rink was Baltic to say the least, and the tension was palpable both on and off the ice. The game was a cagey affair, not particularly physical, in stark contrast to last week's clash against Cardiff - although there were a couple of illegal moves from Edinburgh players during the match, one of which resulted in coach Danny Stewart falling to the ice and dramatically rolling about in pain for a bit before staggering to the dug-out (or whatever they call that box-y bit at the side in hockey). It looked serious, but he was back on in the third period with no apparent debilitating injuries, which led me to conclude that he was either over-reacting and is in fact a big girl, or he's brick hard. I'm definitely hedging towards the latter. I certainly wouldn't tell him otherwise, so I guess that's pretty much my answer!
In terms of the action, I can tell you that some goals were scored. Which was nice. And one was written off, which was even better as it was one scored by Edinburgh. We had the score up to 3-1 for a while but the two goal cushion did not last long as the opposition scored in the third period to bring it back to 3-2. But I'm not going to faff about with stats and specifics (as if I could!) when I can instead wax lyrical about what was undoubtedly one of the tensest 11 minute periods I have ever experienced in sport. I'm deadly serious. I was a nervous wreck, going from the edge of my seat whenever we pushed forward to cowering back with my knuckles in my mouth like an American teen at a horror movie whenever Edinburgh were on the attack. I was actually shaking although I think that was more to do with the fact I was freezing my knackers off. I'm as guilty as the next sports fan of silly superstitions but I swear every time I blinked, it made Edinburgh miss. So I blinked quite a lot. Although my contact lenses were giving me jip, which could have explained it. That in itself was a bit of a concern as on literally three separate occasions, the puck nearly exited the rink right by where I was sitting and I couldn’t actually see it properly. It was a bit too close for comfort. I might have to start wearing goggles. Now THAT would make me look like a novice! I’m so going to do it.
Despite the fact we were leading for most of the game, and we were clearly the better side on the night, I daren't let myself believe we could actually win, even in the dying seconds. But the buzzer sounded and the place erupted and I realised, we actually did it. We won a match. It was a real landmark for me, I'll be honest. A sort of coming of age. It was a carbon copy of the game against Braehead in so many ways (can we play a team from Scotland every week?!), yet it was a parallel universe. I was invested, now. I felt every challenge, mirrored every save, and willed in every shot. I was no longer on the outside. So it's happened, then. I've lost myself. I am in danger of glazing over and becoming a bit Shakespearian here so I'm going to beat a hasty retreat before I start spewing sonnets at you and refocus on the bigger picture. I am still very much a hockey novice. But now, even if I still don’t know the offside rule, I feel like a part of it all.
We have known too little of late the sweet elixir of victory (oops, I Shakespeare'd anyway!), but being the underdog makes winning that much sweeter. It’s why I have loved supporting Watford FC all these years as opposed to the Manchester Uniteds of the world. What’s a win when it’s a formality. The rollercoaster of emotion is what makes sport worth watching; the ups and downs mirror real life and it’s so much more satisfying to live in hope than in expectation; you’re much less likely to be disappointed.
That being said, I can confirm that on arrival back at my house I needed several strong drinks to return my shredded nerves back to normal, despite feeling on top of the world. Blood pressure medication and paper bags on standby, people. Hockey is not for those of a nervous disposition.
WE ONLY BLOODY WON!!!!
I'll start at the very beginning. Some nun-type bird once said it was a very good place to start. And I'm inclined to agree. To say that this was a must-win game was a bit like saying that Wayne Rooney earns a few quid. Coming off the back of a nine-game losing streak, Vipers were rock bottom of the league and the Edinburgh Capitals were faring little better, just above them. The temperature at the rink was Baltic to say the least, and the tension was palpable both on and off the ice. The game was a cagey affair, not particularly physical, in stark contrast to last week's clash against Cardiff - although there were a couple of illegal moves from Edinburgh players during the match, one of which resulted in coach Danny Stewart falling to the ice and dramatically rolling about in pain for a bit before staggering to the dug-out (or whatever they call that box-y bit at the side in hockey). It looked serious, but he was back on in the third period with no apparent debilitating injuries, which led me to conclude that he was either over-reacting and is in fact a big girl, or he's brick hard. I'm definitely hedging towards the latter. I certainly wouldn't tell him otherwise, so I guess that's pretty much my answer!
In terms of the action, I can tell you that some goals were scored. Which was nice. And one was written off, which was even better as it was one scored by Edinburgh. We had the score up to 3-1 for a while but the two goal cushion did not last long as the opposition scored in the third period to bring it back to 3-2. But I'm not going to faff about with stats and specifics (as if I could!) when I can instead wax lyrical about what was undoubtedly one of the tensest 11 minute periods I have ever experienced in sport. I'm deadly serious. I was a nervous wreck, going from the edge of my seat whenever we pushed forward to cowering back with my knuckles in my mouth like an American teen at a horror movie whenever Edinburgh were on the attack. I was actually shaking although I think that was more to do with the fact I was freezing my knackers off. I'm as guilty as the next sports fan of silly superstitions but I swear every time I blinked, it made Edinburgh miss. So I blinked quite a lot. Although my contact lenses were giving me jip, which could have explained it. That in itself was a bit of a concern as on literally three separate occasions, the puck nearly exited the rink right by where I was sitting and I couldn’t actually see it properly. It was a bit too close for comfort. I might have to start wearing goggles. Now THAT would make me look like a novice! I’m so going to do it.
Despite the fact we were leading for most of the game, and we were clearly the better side on the night, I daren't let myself believe we could actually win, even in the dying seconds. But the buzzer sounded and the place erupted and I realised, we actually did it. We won a match. It was a real landmark for me, I'll be honest. A sort of coming of age. It was a carbon copy of the game against Braehead in so many ways (can we play a team from Scotland every week?!), yet it was a parallel universe. I was invested, now. I felt every challenge, mirrored every save, and willed in every shot. I was no longer on the outside. So it's happened, then. I've lost myself. I am in danger of glazing over and becoming a bit Shakespearian here so I'm going to beat a hasty retreat before I start spewing sonnets at you and refocus on the bigger picture. I am still very much a hockey novice. But now, even if I still don’t know the offside rule, I feel like a part of it all.
We have known too little of late the sweet elixir of victory (oops, I Shakespeare'd anyway!), but being the underdog makes winning that much sweeter. It’s why I have loved supporting Watford FC all these years as opposed to the Manchester Uniteds of the world. What’s a win when it’s a formality. The rollercoaster of emotion is what makes sport worth watching; the ups and downs mirror real life and it’s so much more satisfying to live in hope than in expectation; you’re much less likely to be disappointed.
That being said, I can confirm that on arrival back at my house I needed several strong drinks to return my shredded nerves back to normal, despite feeling on top of the world. Blood pressure medication and paper bags on standby, people. Hockey is not for those of a nervous disposition.
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