Oh, oh--you ready to blow?! Well I'm a mushroom-cloud-laying motherfucker, motherfucker! … I'm Superfly TNT, I'm the Guns of the Navarone!

We had a hockey game last night. It was the first time in a long time that there was no joy for me at the end of the game.

Just anger, hate, and rage.

But before that, I dropped my son off at a friends house since my wife had an Attachement Parenting counsel meeting. They are one of our people with kids friends. The guy Dave is cool shit. We’ve hung out at some events together and he’s good people. He asked me if I had a minute before I went to the game. I said sure. He had some sort of super water that he wanted me to try. It had like additonal oxygen in it or something. More than the one atom per molecule aparently.

He gave me this little song and dance asking me to streatch prior to drinking it and him pushing down on my arms at my side. Then I drank it and I restreatched and he pulled down on my arms again and it seemed to improve both of those things. I don’t really think it was the water, but that’s just the skeptic in me. I told him if I scored like four goals I’d buy a case of the stuff.

Our leading scorer Phil was a man of his word and didn’t show up. Again, his choice, but we are worse off without him. If we end up playing Orange in the playoffs I’m going to try and convince him to play one last game with us. Since I think he’d enjoy knocking them off as much as all of us.

Now to the highlights:

The fist shift of the first period we looked pretty good. We ran the cycle in their zone had three or four shots on net, and one or two good scoring chances.

Then their ringer stepped onto the ice. When I put my team together, I tried to make a TEAM. I didn’t grab anyone from a higher league like several of the other teams in our league did.

He skates down, takes a shot from the top of the right circle and scores. My anger started to rise. They scored two more goals, one of which was a legitimate team type goal. I’ll give them that.

I was playing defense and this 20-year-old kid who thinks he’s hot shit was skating into the zone. I got in his way, poked the puck away from him and he ended up falling down through no fault of mine. He said some bullshit about me being too physical. I wasn’t aware that we were playing tennis so I told him, “Come get me Mother Fucker. Come get me.”

I was ready to fight.

I was ready to get ejected.

I wanted to breathe smoke.

In the second period this same kid held my stick while I was in the offensive zone and we were both working to get the puck. I tore at it to get it away, and he pulled me down while he was falling. I landed as hard as I could on him and told him to fuck off. We got matching minors and got to have a seat in the box.

When we got out, I was bringing the puck into their zone and as I passed it over to my teammate, his stick game up and clipped me in the cage. There was a loud clang. If I didn’t have a cage on it would have cut me or bruised me badly. No penalty for high sticking on him.

The ref had lost control of the game.

30 seconds left in the game, we’re losing four nothing. Our team is playing like shit. We’ve had critical failures on multiple fronts of our game. We’re all angry, and just want a hot shower at this point. Their ringer who had two of their four goals skates it up and tries to skate through one of our defensemen. Newton’s laws of motion take over and they both fall down. Mr. Ringer is pissed off even though it was his fault for trying to skate through our man.

He gets up and starts jawing at our defensemen. I skate up and stay out of the fray. They’re chest to chest telling each other how much they love each other. The whistle has blown already. Our goalie skates up and tells the ringer to have a nice day and step the fuck down.

He pushes our goalie.

I repeat. He pushes our goalie.

Some could consider me a dirty player, but hockey is a physical sport, and taking penalties and intimidating the other team is part of the game. There are certain things that I won’t do. I will not touch another team’s goalie.

I am Hindu and he is a cow as far as I’m concerned. The two cows can have at it if they want, but that isn’t my business. My business is keeping the other team’s players in line.

He pushed our fucking goalie. I’m about 4 strides away from the fray. I dig hard and he’s still trying to muscle our goalie around. I have a head of steam as I approach. I think for a second if I should jump on his back and tackle him. I decide a cross check to the back is more appropriate. My moment of hesitation puts me slightly off balance and I don’t get a clean hit on him, but I got my point across.

Everything is getting broken up at this point, and the ref says the game is over and orders the douche off the ice. He’s still smacking his lips. For whatever reason we play them again next Friday. I warned him. “You better not show up and play next Friday.” There will be blood.

I grabbed my sticks and water and skated off the ice, fuck handshakes and niceties. You make a run at my goalie I have no respect for your team or your players. Some of their players groaned about sportsmanship as myself and a couple of my other teammates didn’t shake hands. All I could see was red so I didn’t care.

Those additional atoms per molecule of oxygen must have been fueling my rage. I don’t know that I’ll be buying a case of the miracle water. I might need another shot before Friday’s game though.