The coaches at Ice Oasis, though I don’t like to admit it, are finally teaching me something about hockey. In one drills session on Sunday night, I was able to both lift the puck off the ice with my wrist shot and skate backwards while stickhandling. Now, I’m not saying I’m doing either of these things well, but at least I’m finally doing them. And Paul, despite being married and having two kids (sigh), acknowledged with surprise that I was crossing over backwards around the circle pretty convincingly, and at a minimum, better than the other people in my group. A thick accented older guy in a blue jersey assured me that playing defense during our skills scrimmages was the best way to practice. So I closed my eyes, jumped the boards, and didn’t spend the entire 45 seconds fretting over skating backwards. I did manage to shoot the puck up the boards once or twice, and even got commended by a guy on my team who later got busted by one of the coaches for slashing. Hey, a compliment’s a compliment, and maybe even more so when it comes from a bully.

Now if only I could feel better playing with the women on my tournament team. They are, unfortunately, infinitely less patient and understanding when it comes to bad passes and slow skating. I will be straight up with you — they scare me, and not because I am intimidated by any of them skillwise, but more so because of their limited patience and cliquishness. It reminds me of middle school, when I was always the last kid to get picked for a team because I just downright couldn’t keep up. (Of course, I blew them all away later in high school during our track meets, but who’s holding a grudge here?)

A lot of times people will say things like “Hey, at least you’re not as bad as her,” or “You’ve come a long way in a year.” These are all certainly other ways of looking at the situation, and I do the same thing when I meet someone who says they’ve been playing for a year. I watch that person skate and judge whether or not my skills meet or exceed the mark that person sets. It’s comforting for about five seconds, and then I tend to remember how much worse I am than most everyone else, and I start to get frustrated with myself again.

The thing about hockey at these lower levels is that it’s not just about skills, it’s about having a whole lot of heart. It’s about skating as hard as you possibly can, even if you’re not nearly as good as the person you’re up against. Case in point: Saturday night there’s a tall Asian girl who skates and plays remarkably well (only 6 years of playing, she told me) and who is often on top of me or somehow harassing me during games. I don’t have a lot of chance face to face with her, although I can probably skate as fast as her if my life depended on it (not nearly as maneuverable, however). She had the puck, and was skating up her wing quite aggressively into our defensive zone. I had managed to stay right on top of her, and kept her up against the boards until we got near the hash marks. Something in my head backed me off, and it wasn’t the fear factor. It was a more casual manner, a split second thought that told me that I could indeed go a lot faster and probably knock her down, but instead kept me content at matching her speed. She sped up at the last second and squeezed the puck in between the goalie’s leg and the goalpost. I was appalled, for the simple reason that I could have stopped her if I had put some heart into it. Now, the mysterious absence of our defense is an interesting study in team dynamics, but either way, I was irritated with myself for not putting forth the effort.

Speaking of hockey, Saturyne tells me there’s a hockey movie out that’s too cool to miss. Sounds cheesy but I think I might go see it. Now, finding someone willing to go with me is a separate challenge. I have been known to hit people over the head with long sticks when things don’t go my way, however, so I’m confident I can convince someone that they very much want to see this movie too.