Goalies are a different breed.
Last Tuesday we were 10-1, leading the league, and playing one of the worst teams in the league who were 2-8-1. The wrinkle: their goaltender used to be our goaltender.
Two years ago the "tribal council" (there are four of us) decided we needed a new team. We were in the middle of a run of bad seasons with more or less the same group of guys, and it felt like we were getting worse every week. So, halfway through the season, we decided this was the last season for that group. We had played with the same goaltender since we started playing together. The guy was old, slow, out of position, couldn't contain rebounds, and thought he should be playing in the NHL.
And he was volatile. If he got shelled one night (and our defense wasn't that great), he would let us know that we sucked. He got in a couple of fights (only thrown out once that I can remember), and he would complain incessently about one thing or another. Before every game there was a new ailment or sickness that you could count on to slow him up. After every goal, he would lay on his back for a few dramatic seconds (sometimes as long as until the puck was dropped on the face off) to demonstrate his dispair at the unthinkable: someone actually scored on him. And that was on good nights. On bad nights, he wouldn't even change with us after a game. He'd just drag his stuff out of the locker room and into the hallway, change in a huff, and not say a word to us before leaving for the night. But he never gave up a bad goal . . . just ask him.
Anyway, among the many other problems with our team was that our goaltender just wasn't very good. He was a nice guy (hockey mentality aside), and reliable: he never missed games, but he was good for a couple of soft goals a night. We needed a change.
We played the second half of that season without much care, and really just couldn't wait for the opportunity to start fresh. Come Summer time, the search for better players was on. Everything was falling into place, but we had a problem: we needed a new goalie.
Used to be goalies were in short supply. They played for free and everyone clammored to get them. Then, somewhere along the line (I think it was when rollerblades got popular and the Sharks came to San Jose), everyone decided they could play goalie. Now there's a glut of them, but there aren't a lot of good ones. We needed to cut through the chaff. After realizing that none of the tribal council was doing what we should have done, mine the local pick-up (or "drop-in") hockey games for talent, we contacted the league's head-guy for a recommendation. Just so happens, someone had just come by looking for a new team at about our level. Younger guy (most of us are in our 30s), had recently moved to the Bay Area from Boston, where he was a roller-hockey goaltender for a college club team. He came to a practice we had that summer, and it was clear: he was our guy. Problem was, another team in our league had also contacted him, and he was playing on their summer team (our guys rarely want to play during the summer). So we wined and dined him (which is to say, took him out for a couple of drinks near where we all work), and told him we planned to move up to the next division, as long as we could start winning. Which, mind you, was true. So he opted for us in the Fall, but kept subbing for the other guys whenever they needed him (which was always), as long as they weren't playing us.
He is a solid netminder. A little small, but quick, with a great glove hand. And he doesn't freak out after every goal. In fact, he kind of enjoys games where he gets shelled. He figures it's better practice for him. I'm a forward, and the more I handle the puck in a game, the happier I am. I guess it's the same for him. But there aren't many goalies who think that way. It was a real bonus.
He really only has two draw-backs. First, he's not great at containing rebounds. That we could forgive -- he was a huge upgrade over the first guy. Second, he's never shown up on time in his life. Suffice it to say, as the team captain I suffered a lot of misery and ulcers wondering whether he was actually going to make it to our games on time. Now, he dresses quickly, so that makes up for it . . . a little. And the fact is he never actually missed a game for us. Once we had to start a game without him, while he changed next to the rink, and one of our defenseman was on in his place. The other team went easy on us while he changed, which was gracious. Other teams in our league would not have been so kind. Karma was on their side. They won the game easily anyway.
So, after one good, but not great year, we figured we were still a couple of players away from moving up. During the summer our team had a bad run, and we realized we were still pretty far away from it. So our goaltender tells us (still playing for both teams), unless we're moving up, he's going to play for the other guys. After all, he played for them first and started playing for us because he thought we were moving up. Reasonable. Besides, he just moved down to Santa Clara (near San Jose), and the commute to Oakland is ridiculous. My wife pointed out that's a sign that he's not long for our league in any case. We were sorry to lose him, as he was one of the better goaltenders in our league. Nonetheless, life moves on.
So, we find another young goalie, who, as it turns out, is an upgrade. Bigger, faster, better positioning, awesome communicator with the defense, and controls rebounds. But the "old" guy always gives us problems. So he's who we played last Tuesday. We were 10-1, tied for first. We're averaging 5+ goals a game, giving up about 2 goals against. Basically, it looks like we're going to move up next season. And we're playing old goalie's 2-8-1 team, averaging fewer than 2 goals a game and giving up about 5.
So, naturally, what happens? Our two best goal scorers, brothers, are out. One, our best player, announced three weeks ago that he's moving to Madison, Wisconsin. Literally, half of our offense (1/5 of our goals and 1/4 of our assists) moved with him a week ago. His brother, an even more prolific goal scorer (this season, at least), tells us that with his first muy thai (kick-boxing) fight coming up, he needs to attend his practices Tuesday and Thursdays, so he can't make our games unless they are late. Tuesday's game, of course, was at a perfectly reasonable 7:30. There went nearly half our offense. And we played like it was even more than that.
Despite completely outplaying the bad guys, outshooting them 31-19, and playing the last 4:30 without a goaltender and without giving up a empty-net goal, we lose 3-1. Despite our new goalie's heroics, just like in the old days, we give up a bunch of odd-man rushes, and the bad guys capitalized. And our old goalie joins us in the parking lot for beers, maybe just to remind us that he left us because we're not ready to move up. He never actually said it, but he didn't have to.
At least we weren't ready last Tuesday.
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