One of the things I love most about a new obsession is learning the slang. Hockey has proven particularly rewarding in that arena, and I can now spout on about “one-timers,” “wrap-arounds,” “enforcers,” and “changing on the fly.”
My absolute favorite new phrase is “stone hands,” said of a player who lacks puck-handling skills. For example, “That player has stone hands — he can’t pass, deke, or shoot.” As you can imagine, there’s not a lot to recommend a player with this problem. You watch him fumble around with his stick and shake your head as if to say, “Stone hands. How sad.”
Trouble is, I feel like I’ve had stone hands lately. It’s not the puck I have issues with, it’s life.
I’m skating hard, but I’m just a little too clumsy with everything. I’m behind on journals and email, I’m not eating as healthy as I’d like, I’m not making as much progress on my novel as I’d like, I’m keeping up in kung fu, but barely… Everything is jumbled. If there were an NHL for real-world success, I’d be sent back down to the farm team.
Guess I should go read my previous entries about winning the little battles, eh?
A lot of players don’t make it in the big leagues because they don’t want the puck enough. They play hard, but they’re not difference makers. I want the puck. I really do. But the next time I get it, I’d really like to score a goal or make an awesome pass instead of dropping my stick or falling on my butt.
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