Sunday, March 13, 2011

Puck me? No puck you!

          I am going to have to ground my husband.  He is consorting with some dangerous folk.  During his Hockey game this weekend, I witness 6 penalties, a full body slam that resulted in an ejection, a couple of almost fights, really naughty language and a middle finger.  No to mention the team we were playing was called the Master Bladers. 

            Not only did I get to see this, but also, much to the delight of my 11 year old so did he, and he absolutely loved it.  I mean he wanted to see his old man throw down.  I’m like no way, he is our only source of income.  The last thing I need is to have to take care of my 42-year-old husband while he recovers from some type of injury, sustained by fighting on the rink.

            The crazy thing is when the game was over and the other team took off their helmets, they were all really old.  I expected to see some young guys, full of testosterone, but no.  It was the salt n pepper squad, and they were ready to rumble in the jungle.  And by jungle I mean the upper middle class suburb of Littleton Colorado.

            So Hubby’s team won 2-0.  Yea.  My favorite part was the yelling from the crowd.  These families, consisting of teenagers and 40-year-old women were getting riled up, it was hilarious.  I was right there in the midst, clapping laughing, offering up a violin for the losers to play, my kid was holding up his finger in the shape of an L, good stuff.

            After the game, we saw one of the players form the other team at the restaurant we where eating from.  My husband offered to buy the guy a cheap shot, they guy laughed.  That’s the great thing about old man hockey.  After the tempers flare, a good drink makes everyone calm down, wish I could try that with my 11 year old.

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