As my teammates have pointed out to me repeatedly, I'm way behind in writing about Galaxy games. Herewith, the little I remember about each game:
August 17 vs. Stampede
Lee, Matt, and I remained linemates, and we played really well together, in my opinion (except for the time I slammed into Matt and knocked him down in the neutral zone—oops!). I remember skating really hard, cycling a lot (it only seemed to matter which position each of us was playing for the faceoffs; after that, whoever got to the puck first skated where there was room, and the other two went to whatever part of the ice was open), and being tired but exhilarated after every shift. The only bummer was that we got scored on (once). Hoche used to say that the +/- was really a stat for the D, but I found out after the game that knowing we were scored on bugged Lee as much as it bugged me. This makes sense, because Lee takes his defensive responsibilities as seriously as Eric does (and I do).
Meanwhile, our captain (who plays D) set a new record for getting behind the net in the offensive zone: he was fighting for the puck back there 16 seconds into the first period. I can't remember whether it was Lee or Matt who remarked after the game that it was the fact that we brought the fight to our opponents early and often that made the difference (I think we won 5-2), nor whether it was this game or the next one in which our captain scored our only goals, but I do remember wondering why the captain doesn't just play forward.
I have nothing against the D trying to score; in fact, the D on Gang Green were "very aggro," as Hoche once said, and they scored often. They'd let loose from the point off a pass from one of the forwards, or they'd carry the puck in past one of the forwards (who would drop back to cover), take the shot, and get back to the point. It's the difference in method that made it work: in short, they were D first, and scoring machines second. I'm aware that some would say, "what does it matter who scores as long as you win?", and that's a valid point. I think the reason it bothers me when the D goes in deep and stays there is that it means you can never really trust that they'll get back—and for me personally, that often translates into worrying perhaps too much about staying back to cover and not enough about going in on O.
August 22 vs. Admirals
Lee was out for this one, but Matt and I stayed on the second line together as a wing pair, while Eric and Murph alternated at Center. I have the sense that this was the game in which our captain scored our only two goals, but I could be wrong about that. If he did, then it was either the previous game or the next one in which Derek flipped a pass from our defensive zone over the heads of two defensemen and onto the stick of Adam, who was cherrypicking up near the offensive blueline, and who went on to score. I can't remember what scores happened when, obviously, but I wanted to acknowledge both accomplishments, whenever they happened.
What I do recall about this game was falling in the corner near the Zamboni door while trying to dig the puck out (if I remember correctly, I *did* get the puck to a teammate before going down), and then either on the same shift or the next one, going down in exactly the same spot—only this time as a result of taking what was meant to be a hard clear up the boards to my left instep. The puck's velocity literally knocked my foot out from under me, and it hurt like hell to boot. I think everyone thought I was just uncoordinated and had fallen again, but I was busy wondering whether I'd broken any bones. (I don't think I did; it hurt to walk around barefoot for a couple days, but after that it was fine.)
September 1 vs. Roadrunners
This was our lone 7:15 game of the summer season, and Al and I decided that it wouldn't be too much of a hardship for Austen to stay up until 9:30 or so to see it. I didn't bring the camera because I figured Al would be too busy watching Austen to take pictures, but I kicked myself for not bringing it 'just in case' when I saw Austen in an old, infant-sized fleece hat with flaps (which didn't really fit him anymore) and the new L.L. Bean sweater Valerie got him. He looked absolutely adorable, and seeing him and Al watching the game from the stands and from behind the glass made any on-ice (or locker room) angst melt away.
Adam, Derek, and Alan were MIA when the lines were read out in the locker room before the game, and my usual linemate Matt was out, which left us with (I think) 3 D and 7 forwards. I don't remember who the two forward lines were, but I know I was asked to float. I shrugged and went over to get my stick from the rack when I heard Fred say, "why not go with three Centers and two sets of wings?" I looked up in time to see our captain stare at Fred as if Fred were crazy, shake his head, and say, with what sounded like incredulity in his voice, "No." I smiled and muttered, "because why would you do that?" to Eric, who responded by poking me in the shoulder and telling me to get out in the hall before I caused trouble. :)
During the warmup Fred approached me and said he had good news and bad news: The good news was I didn't have to float. The bad news was that I'd be the third Right Wing. It honestly didn't matter much to me; I'd never assumed that I'd have been the third Center had we gone that route anyway. Again I shrugged. It seemed silly to tire two Centers and rest a Wing, but I had no other objections. In any case, Adam, Derek, and Alan arrived a few minutes later, and the refs extended the warmup to give them time to get dressed, so we ended up having three complete forward lines after all. I ended up on the third line with Fred at Center and Doug at Left Wing.
I think being on the third line again discombobulated me a bit, especially after four weeks in a row of following Adam (who plays on the first line) onto the ice. With 28 seconds to go in the first period, the first line suddenly came off...just as the play turned around. I said, "oh my god, are they coming off?" and jumped on as soon as Adam got near the bench. I hit the neutral zone just in time to intercept, with authority, a pass from one of the Roadrunners, though I immediately had my stick lifted by the guy the pass was intended for as well as one of his linemates. (I have enough trouble fighting off one stick check; two is quite beyond my abilities. I also think the quickness that Al says I lack would have helped in this situation, as it would have allowed me to turn the play around rather than leaving me standing there with the puck long enough to get stick-checked in the first place.) Anyway, despite doing my best to foul up the barely-interrupted offensive charge and to stick with the madly cycling Roadrunners, they scored on us before the buzzer rang. It was only as I was skating dejectedly back to the faceoff circle that I realized I was out with the wrong line, and that Fred and Matt Z were calling my name from the bench. Good thing Matt Z had counted heads when he jumped on, realized I was the player who shouldn't be there—and that I had touched the puck—and quickly got back off. I apologized profusely and promised I would pay more attention to who I was following (namely, Matt Z).
I had a couple more opportunities to touch the puck in this game—and to actually skate with it. In one case I picked the puck up off the boards in our defensive zone and tried to skate up ice with it, but I lost it near our bench when I looked up for a passing target, the puck hit a divot and popped over my stick, and I overskated it. The second time reminded me of the Spitfire practice where we'd learned how to break out. At the practice, the coach had made us try over and over again to pass up the boards to a winger at the hashmarks, pass again to the center who would be coming up hard through the slot, and then come out of the zone together as a line, crossing the blueline at roughly the same time. We never seemed to get it right: Either I'd be way ahead of the rest of the line, or one of us would fumble the pass up the boards and the Center would have to circle around again, or the pass would hit the Center's skates instead of her stick. After about five or six tries, we finally executed both passes *and* crossed the blueline roughly together.
We only got three tries to get it right in this case, but that still seems a shockingly large number in a single shift—especially given that we did it the same way each time, as if it were a drill. All three times the puck came around to Doug on the boards, and I broke through the high slot and looked for a pass. (I'm not sure why it was me who did this; as the RW, I probably should have been trailing Fred as *he* looked for the pass, but I guess I was taking a page out of Lee's book.) The first time Doug passed behind me, and I had to loop back around and fight, with Fred and the D, to keep the puck out of our opponents' possession. The second time Doug hit my skates, and a similar fracas ensued. The third time, Doug apparently figured out that I'm a little faster than I look (Al says I look incredibly slow because I take a few long strides rather than several short ones) and passed in front of me. He didn't hit my stick, but for once I was able to skate up to the puck instead of back to it. I remember getting into the offensive zone, at which point I think I tried to pass to Fred, but I forget what happened after that.
After the game, Al brought Austen out on the ice for a few seconds, where he tried to walk around before we were chased off by the Zamboni. Did I mention how damn cute he looked in that hat and sweater? :)
I think it was a few days before this game that we'd been told there would be an extra playoff game added to the season. Instead of the first and second place teams in our division playing for the championship on the 9th, the second (us) and third place teams would play each other, with the winner of that game playing the first place team on the 16th for the trophies. I was trying to decide whether to stay in town for the first round of the playoffs or to make a family vacation out of a business trip to Boston, and up until this game staying in town to play hockey had the edge. After enduring a monologue on limited roster spots, the seriousness of the fall season, and the possibility of tryouts to determine who would make the team in response to our announcement that Al and I planned to split the fall/winter season, however, I decided it was a no-brainer: we'd be Boston-bound on the 7th (and probably looking for a new team for the fall).
Posted by Lori in Galaxy ~ Summer 2005 | September 18, 2005·11:23 PM