Game Face On: Playoffs Round One

Maybe someday I’ll tell you the complexity of how I really feel about minor pro hockey culture, this lifestyle or the sport in general. But right now the Condors are in round one of the Kelly Cup Playoffs. And it’s not complicated to explain how I feel about that. I LOVE PLAYOFFS.

First of all, in a technical sense, playoffs are the payoff for all the hard work done during the season. I’m sure someone else could give you a more numerically based rationale as to why this season that hard work was so much harder, but I’ll break it down to you in laymen’s terms. Making the playoffs is always a battle, but this year it was more of an epic struggle. If we think back to what might be called the “depths of despair” portion of the season (I have a flair for the dramatic) in December and January, it seemed highly unlikely that we would be enjoying the ups and downs of the post-season the way we are now. At some point, for some reason, this team turned that frown upside down and started winning. And it was awesome at first because it’s always nice to mix some winning in with your losing. And then it was awesome because we had given ourselves a chance at playoffs. And then it was awesome because, barring some freakish event, we had somehow clinched a spot! And here we are today, waiting anxiously for a round one victory in game six. The season that took so long to get right just must go on.

Secondly, playoff hockey is more exciting. During the regular season I very seldom feel a real sense of urgency. Sure, winning is better, losing isn’t good. But there are 72 games, so losing or winning one doesn’t make or break the season. In playoffs the opposite is true. It feels like everything is at stake during every game. You’ve never seen a row of player’s significant others so riveted by every tiny movement of the puck. We’re up, we’re down, we’re screaming hastily altered versions of profanity to keep things G-Rated. Or PG-13 at least. We yell out things like “KILL HIM” or “GET IT OUT” or “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING” or my personal favorite “WHY!? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” when the ref gives us penalties. Our regular-season chitter chatter is contained between whistles or during period breaks because we are truly focused on the hockey game at hand.

And more than the added excitement of the play itself, I love the spirit of playoffs. It gives me an excuse to act like a crazy fan rather than a sarcastic yet supportive spouse. We spent hours, and I really do mean hours as in 5 or 6, making sweet playoff t-shirts which we wear every game without washing because we’re suddenly very superstitious. We bring the same rally towels from game three to each game because we believe the light-up fans from game four may have been the reason we lost. We have a mantra, which I cannot share with you because of aforementioned superstition, that really works. All the rituals that the players have seem so annoying during the regular-season, but during the post-season I take them on myself.

And finally, I love the theatrics of the playoffs. It’s more than a sporting event, it’s like a soap opera. When you play the same team so many times consecutively with so much on the line there is bound to be bad blood between them. And in the stands we have our own storyline. According to our own standards, we have chosen the villains and they always seem to live up to their role. For instance, but keeping confidentiality in mind, this round they are called "Lamilton" and "Chewy" and maybe "Shrimpright." My rational mind knows that they are probably perfectly nice guys who would be our friends if they were playing on our team. But they aren’t on our team, and they must pay! I hiss and boo and scream words of warning to the worst of the bad guys, and yes I know they can’t hear me. It’s a plot where good takes on evil with no gray area. If the good guys win, it’s because they deserved it more. If they don’t, it’s because of some injustice done to them.

Cross your fingers for the Good Guys tomorrow night.

Last Sunday, I did it again. I ran another half-marathon, bested my time, and enjoyed the bonus of having my husband waiting for me at the finish line. My friend Leina took the challenge as a first time half-marathoner but a seasoned runner. We had the requisite no-boys-allowed time on the day before the race, making sure to have a nice lunch, order room service, and watch a delicious Lifetime movie before the testosterone arrived.

This run, not being part of a marathon, was much more laid back than my previous adventure in Carlsbad. In Paso Robles, wine country, things are more laid back in general. I was thrilled to see the scenery include pastures, farms, rolling hills and amazing vistas. I felt like I was running through Kenya, except with shoes on.

After 2 hours, 11 minutes and 17 seconds (what is with the 17 seconds I always seem to tack on?) I crossed the finish line. And even though I enjoyed this race more overall than my previous race, I was very happy to finish at all because somewhere around the 2 hours, 8 minutes, 30 second mark I was greeted by a 70 degree incline which I stomped up leaning as far forward as gravity and my ankle joints would allow. Talk about a challenging finish.

The race was the culmination of a New Year filled with running, running goals, running training, and more running. And as great as it felt at the end, part of that enjoyment was the relief that I am now taking a break from such vigorous running to pursue yoga with more dedication and walk/bike/jump instead of running for a while. This old gal needs a break.

Thanks to Dave, we actually have some shots of me and Leina on the final quarter mile, and a video clip of what it looks like when I'm about to die. Enjoy.

If You Loved Me, You'd Skype Me

When you live far away from home, you have to find ways to connect with those you are missing. Phone is great, e-mail is efficient and even this blog does it's part to keep people in the loop. But there is nothing, NOTHING, better than Skype to make you feel like you are sitting around having a cozy chat with those you love. My mom likes to see my face, my sister likes to see my dogs, and my friends are so beautiful I just love seeing them.

I know what you are thinking. Or at least maybe I can fashion a guess. Perhaps you are thinking that you have NO idea how to go about setting up Skype, identifying the webcam built into your computer/attaching an external webcam to your computer. But none of that is true. If you have managed to set yourself in front of a computer to find this blog, you can manage a Skype call. In our family, I am the most technologically advanced. All that means is that compared to Dave, I can get slightly more accomplished before a computer eventually melts down. But I bought a webcam, set it up, and got it to work through Skype all on my own. And eventually, when I got a new laptop with that built-in seeing-eye thing, I passed my webcam on to my sister. And after 5 months or so, SHE figured it out too! Les and Malcolm are Skyping up just in time for our niece/nephew to arrive! Hear this: my mom and dad even manhandle Skype like it's their job. You can manage this! (Kathy, seriously, work it out!)

Or maybe you were thinking that you don't understand what use Skype would be to you. Some people still imagine a webcam as the tool of a creepy pervert who surfs the internet for kinky cyber dates. How 1990's of you! Webcams are now a family affair! Or maybe, in the words of Dave's friend Matty when it was suggested he should get Skype so we can see him, you don't understand 'why would I want to stare at your face while I'm talking to you?' Matty brings up a good point, a Skype conversation has the same potential for awkwardness as a real live conversation does, but no more than that. If you are terribly socially challenged in real life, this may not improve things. But a face to face conversation via Skype is not a stare down, it's a casual get-together! You can talk while drinking your coffee, show off your decorating or force your dogs onto your lap and make them wave hello! The uses are endless! Would it sweeten the deal if I promise you a view like this, bed head and all?

Or perhaps you'd be more interested if my little dog sat in with us?

The bottom line is that if you don't live in this area, this timezone, or on this continent, I miss you. Sure, we talk on the phone or exchange e-mails or obsessively follow each other's status on Facebook. But I miss your FACE. So Skype-up and find me. Pick a screen name, make it creepy or cheesy if you want. Set a date and I'll be there.

Pictured below are my most common Skype partners:

Mom and Dad, during a quick break from their favorite past time: painting over the rooms of my childhood. Sis, in her full glory. She loves performing for a camera.
Sherry is literally Skyping in a tiny car in the Italian Alps. I shit you not. And look how happy this makes her! Sis, again. Singing a song, most likely from a Disney soundtrack.
Jess is my best friend because she shows this kind of enthusiasm when we are talking. I talk to my sister on Skype nearly daily, the moments like this make it all worthwhile.