The Hockey Player....

The cockiest, dirtiest, most irresponsible group of athletes in the
world. Will do anything and come back to tell his teammates about it.
Live the dream until they are 35 then realize they never made it. Ladies
love us, guys want to be us, we are the soul of the universe. You lace up
the skates, put on the gloves, strap on the helmet, and walk on to the
ice and nothing else matters.

It doesn't matter that you failed a test, your girl is being a bitch, or
that you got a ticket on the way to the rink...you're world is absolutely
perfect for the next couple hours. Here's to face-offs, goals, assists,
overtime, living on the road, cold rinks, early mornings, breakaways,
going top shelf, countless hours of practice, bag skates, thousands of
dollars, dangling d-men, big hits, broken twigs, new skates, packing
bombs, wheelin' broads, coaches, adding the letter "y" to the end of
everyone's last name, the word "fuck", pick-up hockey, fights, let downs,
miracles and most of all - the game, Hockey.

Why? Why do we skate back and forth night after night? Skating so hard we
throw up. Skating so hard your heart beat rings in your head, while your
ungs are grasping for air. Late nights, early mornings, Friday nights,
Saturday evenings, broken bones, torn muscles and deep bruises. We skate
through it all. Because we live off our adrenaline, because the game
frees your spirit, because there is nothing like the party in the locker
room, because your invincible once you step on the ice, because a shot
can make you smile all night, sniping the twine, "Sniper", the battling
of the boards, the feel of the puck, and skates carving into the ice is a
rhythm to live by, because its possible to skate fast enough to leave all
your worries behind. Sweat is the cologne of our accomplishment. Why? Why
would someone push themselves so hard? It's not for the money, it's not
for the girls, and it's not for the fame. We do it because we love it!




People on the outside world cannot understand what happens in a hockey dressing room. The word chemistry is often used to describe what lurks behind the walls of a tight knit hockey room.

If you talk to most players who win championships, they talk of the blood and guts, the second efforts, but most importantly they point out the chemistry in the room. From the day training camp starts, players are thrown together from all parts of the globe. Once the team is made, this is now your second family. You will bleed with these teammates, you will win and you will lose with them, but most of all they will become your best friends in the world. These are the guys you have to trust – not only on the ice but off the ice as well, nothing can compare to this bond. When your flying up the ice and you hear a “heads up!”, and you quickly avoid a train coming at you, your buddies were there for you. You will taste sweet victory, and you will cry tears together in defeat. Through hell or high water for the next 9 months you will have a family that will take care of you. Away from home for the first time, you may feel homesick. Your boys will stick together and all of you will have some of the best times of you life. Stories told in the dressing room, end when you walk out the door. What happens in a dressing room becomes a world of itself. If you respect this responsibility you will reap the benefits of a great year. Respecting the code of the locker room is more about life then it is about what happens on the ice. Cherish these times in the room boys, from sitting around having dippin cope short after a game to bus rides on road trips– these are memories that will stay with you for a lifetime. Embrace these rules, respect your teammates, but most of all enjoy the dance. When it’s all over, you will think back and smile at the golden moments of your youth. Then you will wake up your son and take him to practice. As you take a sip of your warm coffee, you can be gracious that you were there – you played, you laughed, your cried –and you got to dance



Here's to. . .
the stars in the show and
the guys going to the show
the boys in the juniors
. . .living the dream
and the die hards
. . .lighting up the beer leagues.

Here's to. . .
the snipers, the playmakers
the grinders, the fighters
the power forwards, the blue chip d-men
the bottle fillers the men in the pipes
the men on the bench
. . .and the boys in the box.

Here's to. . .
sniping ginos, chizzling apples
throwing sauce, undressing tendies
banging home rebounds
making big glove saves
. . . and burying OT winners.
dirty dangles, sick toe drags
backhand toe drags, spin-o-ramas
bar and ins, top cheese, One-Tees
snappers and clappers, big-time celly's,
poke-checks, pad-stacks, big hits
hip-checks, train tracks
and toe-to-toe tillies.

Here's to. . .
long bus trips, the early morning practices
the bag-skates, the battles in the corners,
the bad dental, the sweet flow
the playoff beards, the tears, the laughs
the team shakers. .
the beauties wheeling hot broads
. . .and the gongers wheeling swampers.

Here's to. . .
the wins, losses, and ties,
the end-to-end overtimes,
the gruelling training camps,
the pre-season exies,
the regular season battles
the playoff wars
. . . and raising cup.
And. . .

Here's to anyone who knows what all this means. . .
hockey's unreal. It’s my life.