Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Rabbit Trails, Bunny Trails, Anything-That-Hops-Trails, Etc.

I have a thing about baseball.


Yes, it was baseball games, baseball practice, baseball on TV, baseball bobble heads, baseball in the park, baseball in the backyard, baseball in the street, baseball at dinner, baseball on the bookshelves, baseball cards, baseball trophies, baseball bats, gloves, & helmets, baseball on toast, baseball with folding chairs, baseball in shiny tin foil on the Christmas tree...
Twas and tis my childhood.

But that's not the point.

Thus, the question is this:
What is the point?

---Ah yes, I remember.

Wedding bells sounded over last weekend. The pastor of the wedding and his wife stayed at our house. They left us this.


It's beautiful, isn't it?
They were wonderful guests, and it was great to have them over! We were really really blessed by them. 


That being said, my family and I have been busy. What with school, Arlo barking his head off at hot air balloons (tis the season), and hockey---wait a minute, HOCKEY!! You haven't heard the latest ehhhh? Very well then, I shall give the visual.

SHARKIPEDES!
But the best part is...
99!

I believe I've said it before, but 99 is my favorite number. Therefore: I Am Happy.
Happy happy happy happy about the jersey have a big ol' nine/nine on it. In the previous church hockey seasons the I've participated in, the t-shirts did NOT have numbers. What is it about numbers on the back anyway?? I really can't tell you why everyone goes crazy about tiny little things like this, but who am I to understand? 
Oh, and unlike last season, I was able to MATCH!
Okay, now I'm: Very Happy
Very happy very happy very happy very happy about matching. Read the past here.
Furthermore, I have obtained two goals in three games (both while playing defense), and we hold one win outta two loses. Not too bad, but then again---far from perfect.

Now it's story time.

My youth pastor is a hockey purist. He watches hockey. He talks hockey. He eats hockey. He cheers loudly at the hockey players when they Geronimo for the rubber and punch the guts out of each other. Thus...HE KNOCKED A WALL DOWN INSIDE OUR CHURCH AND MADE A FLOOR-HOCKEY COURT. We don't use skates or anything, just hockey sticks & the goalies get masks and pads. We get jerseys, listen to loud chaotic music, and generally act like a hyped up youth group while pelting pel-mel after a rubber ball.
Seriously. It is:
SO. MUCH. FUN.
Anyhow, last night, while playing a tough team in our second game (after totally dominating in our first game), we were really pouring our energy out on the game. Eventually, I---on defense---find myself sprinting to the ball in the corner. Unfortunately, so was another kid---one of the seniors (can you say competitive?). The only thing I really recall is simply seeing one of my teammate's shoe. Then I shut my eyes and the next thing I knew was that I was on the floor and my nose felt like someone bashed my face against a ton of bricks (which is very very close to what happened).
After my wonderful little nose-diving escapade, I was very proud of my dear little snout because it ACTUALLY STAYED ON MY FACE! Which made me happy. And then I got up and started playing again.
After I had switched out with another defense man, I was chatting with the kid who's shoe I whacked my head against (actually I whammo-ed against two people, but one after the other). Low and behold, My nose left a welt on his leg.

Wha??

C'mon,
WHO DOES THAT??
Truly, he had a giant knot on his shin. Purely from my nose.
Impressive huh? I mean, who gets to brag about packing such a whopper of a punch with the projectile of their face??

Anyhow, I'm fine (despite a sore snout).
And it was one of the most fun games I've had in quite a while (despite losing that time around)

Goodbye.
Plink-a-Dink

2 comments:

E-jai said...

I found out what it's called!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Floor_hockey

Kismint said...

Hey that's great!

Finally, I know exactly what to call it when I try to explain it to innocent inquirers (Uh...Spelling??).

-Plink

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