The Sharks want to manage OIC. RMSC wants to manage OIC. Oakland doesn't want Iceoplex managing OIC, and from the way Iceoplex is acting, they don't want to manage OIC. But the City can't agree about what to do. Hockey players are concerned about a fee increase with the Sharks, even though it's a phantom increase for many teams, and according to Iceoplex's current (unenforced) rules. See here. RMSC thinks its unspecified fee increases aren't as bad as the Sharks specified non-increase in fees. Iceoplex no longer does any rink maintenance and stopped collecting fees about 4 months ago.
So the City staff recommended extending Iceoplex's contract for six months to work all this out. Brilliant.
Next hearing is April 3 at 7pm: details
Find Your Home, Puck
Well, after scoring over 5 per game in our first 10, we scored less than 2 per game in our last ten. We're going into the playoffs losing 8 of our last 9, and in our last six games (all losses), we've scored 1, 1, 2, 2, 1, and 0 goals. Time for some zen teaching techniques, courtesy of the golf greats (there's a lesson here, trust me) . . .
Find your home, puck. Be at one with the net.
Let's hope this little visualization technique helps . . .
Find your home, puck. Be at one with the net.
Let's hope this little visualization technique helps . . .
The Life of a Rec-Hockey Addict . . . er, "Captain"
As I've said, I've assumed the role of Captain more for my ability to compile statistics and ensure that someone brings beer than for my skill on the ice (you should see the scoring charts I've compiled to track our losing streak).
Like "Rolly," in the Beer League trailer, I'm not necessarily a great motivator or tactician. I routinely exhort my teamates to avoid unecessary penalties, only to go out on the ice and commit a reactionary act of aggression myself. Probably the most common double standard I set is that I tell my guys not to bitch at the refs. But something about that "C" on my chest makes me think I have carte blanche to abuse the men in stripes. I've probably agitated the refs more -- and caused more ill will towards our team -- than every other player on our roster combined. Now that's leadership. Or not.
Lately I've been a little better about the penalties and mouthing off to the refs, but I'm the first person to complain about a clearing pass sent across the middle of the ice, then do the same thing myself mere seconds later. And there's the "don't just throw the puck into the middle because you think you've had it too long" advice. Like mouthing off to the refs, I probably do that more than anyone on my team . . . just after exhorting everyone else not to do it.
So why do they put up with it? Probably because they don't want to spend the time to keep track of the stats and make sure beer arrives.
It takes time to enter the stats. And I stay on top of it. Everyone on the team gets a weekly update on their goals, assists, penalty minutes, and number of times they've brought beer. That gives me a goals for and a goals against average. I track goals against and wins and losses for my goaltender (and my consistent goaltending sub), but can't track shots on goal or save percentage because the scorekeepers don't routinely or accurately track it. I keep track of our power play goals, goals against, as well as short handed goals and goals against, and a rough estimation of our percent success on the power play and the penalty kill. So the team has a pretty good handle on who's doing what. And you should see the charts. And the comparisons with previous years. To try and minimize just how big of a dork my teamates think I am, I don't necessarily share all the charts and prior year comparisons, but I do them (available upon request).
Another thing that takes more time than you might think is figuring out who on earth is actually coming to skate any given night. You'd think that someone who is paying about $25 per game to play would be there come hell or high water, but back in the real world we have jobs, significant others, and mood swings that justify the financial loss of not coming. (Note to spouses: it's still cheaper than golf). So, making sure we have 10 skaters is actually a pretty big task. Made bigger when people don't tell you they won't be there. There are the core guys that you know will be there. Then there are the maybees. Then there are the guys that drive up the captain's blood pressure, the ones that are consistently late, or nearly late; and the guys that you have no idea whether they are coming or not, even if they told you they are. Nothing beats dressing in the locker room with 6 guys and no goalie, when you should have 11 skaters and a goalie. Our last goaltender (and current routine sub) was habitually late. He only missed the first face-off once, but talk about adding stress to a rec-captain's life; there's nothing like dressing without a goalie. After a while the routinely late guys become, well, routine. I know they will arrive (or at least I think I know), but I just have to accept that they won't arrive until the last minute. Just part of life. But why is it that it seems the guys that live the closest are routinely the latest?
We have the list of subs, all ordered in my head by who's going to help us the most. But I don't like playing with subs because, well, they're subs. I want to win or lose with my team. This is a point of dissension with some of my guys -- I'd rather play and lose with 9, if they are our 9. Others would rather get the sub and win with 10. They're probably right, but I'm stubborn. I caved two weeks ago, and we still lost, even with what I would describe as a ringer. I see that as kharma siding with me, but who's to know?
I decide the lineup. For better or worse. Hockey is a team sport, and a handful of very good players will play differently, and at different levels, depending on who else they play with. So I try to put our lines together the best I can. I talk to one of my teamates about these decisions before most games. In that I'm a rec-hockey addict, I spend more time thinking about this stuff than I should (talk about redundant -- I'm writing a freakin' blog about it, for goodness sake).
I'm a decent forward, and can play defense if needed (but generally don't want to, so I'll assign the task to some other forward who also doesn't want to play back). I understand positioning and strategy (plays) at a basic level, having studied it, but never received any formal coaching. So I comment on it from the bench and between periods, but I don't know if I actually help the team with it.
Anyway, that's the life of a rec-hockey captain. At least my rec-hockey addicted life.
Like "Rolly," in the Beer League trailer, I'm not necessarily a great motivator or tactician. I routinely exhort my teamates to avoid unecessary penalties, only to go out on the ice and commit a reactionary act of aggression myself. Probably the most common double standard I set is that I tell my guys not to bitch at the refs. But something about that "C" on my chest makes me think I have carte blanche to abuse the men in stripes. I've probably agitated the refs more -- and caused more ill will towards our team -- than every other player on our roster combined. Now that's leadership. Or not.
Lately I've been a little better about the penalties and mouthing off to the refs, but I'm the first person to complain about a clearing pass sent across the middle of the ice, then do the same thing myself mere seconds later. And there's the "don't just throw the puck into the middle because you think you've had it too long" advice. Like mouthing off to the refs, I probably do that more than anyone on my team . . . just after exhorting everyone else not to do it.
So why do they put up with it? Probably because they don't want to spend the time to keep track of the stats and make sure beer arrives.
It takes time to enter the stats. And I stay on top of it. Everyone on the team gets a weekly update on their goals, assists, penalty minutes, and number of times they've brought beer. That gives me a goals for and a goals against average. I track goals against and wins and losses for my goaltender (and my consistent goaltending sub), but can't track shots on goal or save percentage because the scorekeepers don't routinely or accurately track it. I keep track of our power play goals, goals against, as well as short handed goals and goals against, and a rough estimation of our percent success on the power play and the penalty kill. So the team has a pretty good handle on who's doing what. And you should see the charts. And the comparisons with previous years. To try and minimize just how big of a dork my teamates think I am, I don't necessarily share all the charts and prior year comparisons, but I do them (available upon request).
Another thing that takes more time than you might think is figuring out who on earth is actually coming to skate any given night. You'd think that someone who is paying about $25 per game to play would be there come hell or high water, but back in the real world we have jobs, significant others, and mood swings that justify the financial loss of not coming. (Note to spouses: it's still cheaper than golf). So, making sure we have 10 skaters is actually a pretty big task. Made bigger when people don't tell you they won't be there. There are the core guys that you know will be there. Then there are the maybees. Then there are the guys that drive up the captain's blood pressure, the ones that are consistently late, or nearly late; and the guys that you have no idea whether they are coming or not, even if they told you they are. Nothing beats dressing in the locker room with 6 guys and no goalie, when you should have 11 skaters and a goalie. Our last goaltender (and current routine sub) was habitually late. He only missed the first face-off once, but talk about adding stress to a rec-captain's life; there's nothing like dressing without a goalie. After a while the routinely late guys become, well, routine. I know they will arrive (or at least I think I know), but I just have to accept that they won't arrive until the last minute. Just part of life. But why is it that it seems the guys that live the closest are routinely the latest?
We have the list of subs, all ordered in my head by who's going to help us the most. But I don't like playing with subs because, well, they're subs. I want to win or lose with my team. This is a point of dissension with some of my guys -- I'd rather play and lose with 9, if they are our 9. Others would rather get the sub and win with 10. They're probably right, but I'm stubborn. I caved two weeks ago, and we still lost, even with what I would describe as a ringer. I see that as kharma siding with me, but who's to know?
I decide the lineup. For better or worse. Hockey is a team sport, and a handful of very good players will play differently, and at different levels, depending on who else they play with. So I try to put our lines together the best I can. I talk to one of my teamates about these decisions before most games. In that I'm a rec-hockey addict, I spend more time thinking about this stuff than I should (talk about redundant -- I'm writing a freakin' blog about it, for goodness sake).
I'm a decent forward, and can play defense if needed (but generally don't want to, so I'll assign the task to some other forward who also doesn't want to play back). I understand positioning and strategy (plays) at a basic level, having studied it, but never received any formal coaching. So I comment on it from the bench and between periods, but I don't know if I actually help the team with it.
Anyway, that's the life of a rec-hockey captain. At least my rec-hockey addicted life.
The Wet Bathing Suit Problem
Hockey gear can be nasty stuff. You sweat in it a ridiculous amount, which means it's smelly. If you don't air it out after a game, it will be wet and NASTY when you next put it on. Nothing like putting on a wet bathing suit full of several days old sweat. Ewwww.
Then there's the problem of where to put it when you get home. If you've got a family, a roomate, or just like having people over . . . ever . . . there's no way the spouse or your social relations are letting you keep it in your bedroom or the living room. It's gotta be in the garage or the basement (if you have such a thing -- most folks in California don't). You could put it outside, which would be ideal if it weren't for ant infestations (that happened to an old goaltender of ours) and other vermin deciding all that sweat makes it a perfect snack.
So, after your weekly adult-rec game, you spread it out in your garage to let it dry. Problem is, especially for the family guys, you're always running a little late getting to the car, so you're stuffing your gear in your bag, hoping you don't forget something, as you're running out the door. Which leads to,
"Anybody got an extra elbow pad?" You just can't play without elbow pads. You can't. Nasty injuries await those who make that mistake. I've done it once. Never again.
"Anybody got an extra shinguard?" Can't even consider playing without one of those. Yikes.
"An extra sock?" "Someone got a white sweater?"
"Where's my #&%$ing jock!?!" Had that one happen last week. Nerve racking, I tell you. It's not like you can ask if someone's got a spare . . .
And that's the important stuff. There's also the towel for the shower, soap, undershirt, mouthguard, water bottle. Sheesh.
Of course, you can just leave the stuff in your bag, and resign yourself to the wet bathing suit, and this . . .
Then there's the problem of where to put it when you get home. If you've got a family, a roomate, or just like having people over . . . ever . . . there's no way the spouse or your social relations are letting you keep it in your bedroom or the living room. It's gotta be in the garage or the basement (if you have such a thing -- most folks in California don't). You could put it outside, which would be ideal if it weren't for ant infestations (that happened to an old goaltender of ours) and other vermin deciding all that sweat makes it a perfect snack.
So, after your weekly adult-rec game, you spread it out in your garage to let it dry. Problem is, especially for the family guys, you're always running a little late getting to the car, so you're stuffing your gear in your bag, hoping you don't forget something, as you're running out the door. Which leads to,
"Anybody got an extra elbow pad?" You just can't play without elbow pads. You can't. Nasty injuries await those who make that mistake. I've done it once. Never again.
"Anybody got an extra shinguard?" Can't even consider playing without one of those. Yikes.
"An extra sock?" "Someone got a white sweater?"
"Where's my #&%$ing jock!?!" Had that one happen last week. Nerve racking, I tell you. It's not like you can ask if someone's got a spare . . .
And that's the important stuff. There's also the towel for the shower, soap, undershirt, mouthguard, water bottle. Sheesh.
Of course, you can just leave the stuff in your bag, and resign yourself to the wet bathing suit, and this . . .
Corporatization, Part III
Oh, the fun of local politics. Rink Management Services Corporation (or something like that) is locked in a death struggle with an affiliate of the San Jose Sharks over who will take over management at the Oakland Ice Center. After the City Council deadlocked at 4-4 on the issue, it requested that the mayor break the tie.
On March 1, Mayor Dellums sent this note to the City Council: (link). In other words, "I don't have time for this . . . figure it out yourselves."
While I have a slight preference that the Sharks take over because I think they are more likely to improve the physical plant/facility (and as I've written, the cost concerns are minimal), my big concern is that the rink could shut down while all this is figured out. Then we'd all lose. Current management has all but shut down already, as maintenence is lacking and the adult hockey is getting ignored more and more (and I can only imagine its the same with the other programs).
And while this goes on people at the rink, including referees who stand to lose their jobs at OIC when new management takes over, are circulating a petition to try to "fight" the coming "increase" in fees. Of course, they haven't done the research or the math to know that fees only go up for teams that insist on playing shorthanded, but why bother when it's so much more fun to be lazy and reactionary?
On March 1, Mayor Dellums sent this note to the City Council: (link). In other words, "I don't have time for this . . . figure it out yourselves."
While I have a slight preference that the Sharks take over because I think they are more likely to improve the physical plant/facility (and as I've written, the cost concerns are minimal), my big concern is that the rink could shut down while all this is figured out. Then we'd all lose. Current management has all but shut down already, as maintenence is lacking and the adult hockey is getting ignored more and more (and I can only imagine its the same with the other programs).
And while this goes on people at the rink, including referees who stand to lose their jobs at OIC when new management takes over, are circulating a petition to try to "fight" the coming "increase" in fees. Of course, they haven't done the research or the math to know that fees only go up for teams that insist on playing shorthanded, but why bother when it's so much more fun to be lazy and reactionary?
For My Canadian Brother-In-Law
A classic from Molson . . . I can imagine my Brother-In-Law may have felt like treating me this way more than a couple of times . . .
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These Are Professionals
Ok, so I'm ripping this off from a friend's blog, but it's too good not to include on a hockey blog. This is the sort of thing that makes me feel better about my own "mad skills." This is the St. Louis Blues vs. the Chicago Blackhawks of the NHL . . . you know, professionals . . .
Bad Bounces
When it rains, it pours. We started the season 10-1. Over our first 10 games, we averaged 5.3 goals per game. Then our best forward left, guys had to miss games for one reason or another, and we started losing . . . a lot. We've lost 6 of our last 7, averaging 2.1 goals per game in the second half (including our one win of late, a 7 goal outburst). Last night we played one of the better teams in our division (which has a very clear top half and bottom half -- we're still in the top half) and lost 4-2.
It was a close game, but we gave up two power play goals, and once again, struggled to put the puck in the net. Nonetheless, it was one of our better efforts of late. We just didn't catch any breaks. It was almost surreal. Some days, the puck bounces your way, others it doesn't. And when you're in the middle of a 7 game freefall, it often doesn't. Last night was a good example. I was swiping at a rebound last night when the puck took a funny hop over my stick. I was a tap away from a 1 on 0 breakaway, and the tap bounced right to their defenseman. Not twenty seconds later, a linemate had a the same thing happen. A clean face-off win in their zone, and the puck slid past our defenseman, who was lined up just a hair too far from the boards, out of the zone. The whole night, it just felt as though we couldn't catch a break. When we finally did -- a shot off the post bounced down into their net, it made the score 4-2 with 1:30 to play. Too little, too late.
Just the way it goes. 2 games left before the playoffs. Plenty of time to right the ship.
It was a close game, but we gave up two power play goals, and once again, struggled to put the puck in the net. Nonetheless, it was one of our better efforts of late. We just didn't catch any breaks. It was almost surreal. Some days, the puck bounces your way, others it doesn't. And when you're in the middle of a 7 game freefall, it often doesn't. Last night was a good example. I was swiping at a rebound last night when the puck took a funny hop over my stick. I was a tap away from a 1 on 0 breakaway, and the tap bounced right to their defenseman. Not twenty seconds later, a linemate had a the same thing happen. A clean face-off win in their zone, and the puck slid past our defenseman, who was lined up just a hair too far from the boards, out of the zone. The whole night, it just felt as though we couldn't catch a break. When we finally did -- a shot off the post bounced down into their net, it made the score 4-2 with 1:30 to play. Too little, too late.
Just the way it goes. 2 games left before the playoffs. Plenty of time to right the ship.
Visiting Post
One of my teammates suggested I add his commentary on a new rule that needs implementing. I'll edit it a bit, but more or less, here it is.
Done.
I think that hockey needs to implement Anti-Bitch rules. I think that when you are such a little bitch that you need to cherry pick with an empty net and skate it right into the net to be certain it goes in, it should count against you. Whining at the ref, (this is opposed to questioning the call -- a fine line, no doubt); cherrypicking for an open-net goal; running up the score, (I mean blatent trying to score in the last couple minutes, especially when its obvious the other team is done); checking someone from behind, (wether into the boards or not -- this one already has a misconduct penalty attached to it, even for minor violations), this carries over to jumping someone from behind. All of these Anti-Bitch rules would be penalyzed according to which rule you broke, the goal ones would deduct goals from your side , the checking would be Major penalties, much like they should be, but they should actually be called as they are. And after you are penalyzed for one of these Anti-Bitch rules, you get a picture of yourself in the rink, and on the website with the word BITCH underneath and above just for good measure. I think you should add this to your Blog.
Done.
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