Electronic Garage Sale

Yes, the Crosbys are at it again.  Craigslist and eBay, baby! I’m not sure where all the junk comes from that accumulates in our garage, but I had had it “up to here!” and the electronic garage sale commenced last night. 

I told my dear husband (the one who’s been HAD ~ Hockey Attachment Disorder) “SURELY, we should be able to sell some hockey equipment or sticks!”  Seriously, there are four full bags of equipment and at least 15 ice sticks and a bazillion street sticks.  He agreed and sauntered off to his lair.  He returned shortly with two sticks in hand.  They looked new… well, slightly used.. and I inquired (because inquiring minds want to know!) “How much can we sell them for?”  It was a normal conversation right up until that point.  No eyes bulging.  No rapid breathing.  Then he answered… “I think we could get about $150 for this red one…. it’s not available in stores yet…. and $120 for this silver one.”  Now the eye bulging and rapid breathing began.  When I regained conciousness, many questions were running amuck in my mind. “WHAT?!?”  Did he steal them?  Did we PAY that much???? How much stuff does he have in the garage that is worth over $100 a piece? I started envisioning nice, new patio furniture in brown and lime green stripes…. a day at the spa with the heated stones on my spine….

A story came forth….. Austin had been eyeing this silver Bauer Vapor X60 stick with Stick’um-dimple-grip (whatever!) for months and when he broke one of his previously used sticks he had enough money to buy it used.  So, after a practice Rick and Aus went into the suck zone store and were perusing the sticks.  They found these two aforementioned sticks that were practice-used by Phoenix Coyotes players and were engraved for them…. Lepisto and Lombardi.  (Whoever they are!) Then God stepped into the hockey stick store… and shut off the electricity.  Standing in the dark, Austin asked the salesman, “Can we still buy these?”  Come to find out the register was electronic…. and obviously wouldn’t work.  I’m not sure if the guy needed a sale to stay employed or what, but he offered, “If you have cash, you can have both sticks for $40.”  Total…. $20 each!

At that moment I’m shocked that my husband didn’t go into coronary stress for the pure joy of the moment.  The sticks were purchased and stashed in the hockey cave (where my van should be) until such a time as this.  I do hope some other member of the male species who has HAD will come across the ebay auctions and salivate on his keyboard while typing in his bid so the joy keeps being spread around.

February 28th, 2010

This day has new meaning for me.  It is the day I figured out quite a few highly important tidbits about life.

#1  My husband is 100% Canadian.  (yes, he did get his US citizenship…. I’m talking about lineage here.)

#2  I am 50/50 Canadian and American.  (You’d think I would have figured this out by now.)

#3  My children are 75% Canadian and 25% American. 

#4  I’m out numbered in my own household when cheering for Olympic hockey games between the States and Canada.

#5  A silver medal in the Olympics is awesome…. except in hockey.

#6  Crosby is a sweet last name.

See?  Today was foundational for me.  More next month. Please stay tuned.

Roughing can be Rough

We are in Corona, CA for a hockey tournament for our son Austin’s bantam team.  I don’t know why I come to these?!?  It just makes my blood pressure go up and I question my motives and my Christian sportsmanship as I scream at the refs……  {sigh}  Anyway, tonight was a rough game.  Our team is not large in physical size.  We do have two rather large 14 year old “boys” (whom I believe shave already) but the rest are 98 pound weaklings boys.  The team we played tonight are all on growth hormones.  Seriously.

So during the second period one of our smaller players went down by the boards behind the net… get this… with one of the large man-childs from the other team on top of him.  If that wasn’t bad enough, their player started punching our player…. blatantly.  Four or five slugs.  The refs did jump in and save our player from major bodily harm, however, they LAMELY refused to call the penalty for what it was.  They deemed it roughing… not fighting.  Last time I checked, throwing punches is FIGHTING.  Roughing gains you two minutes in the bad boy box.  Fighting gets you thrown from the game, as it should. 

Being slightly competitive myself, and loving RULES as I do, I stood up in the stands and tried to help out the refs by letting them know what they should be doing by yelling, “Kick him out of the gaaaaaaammmmme!”  They must not have heard me.  I was rather loud, which sometimes just comes bursting out of me when I least expect it.

Anyway, tomorrow is another day.  Another day for the refs to do a better job. Another day for me to consider taking a sedative before my son’s game.

Hockey Night in Arizona

 

Yes, the greatest goalie of all time, Martin Brodeur,  was at the Coyote’s Den on Thursday and we were there to see him in his glory.  Unfortunately for Brodeur, the Coyotes showed him that the ice isn’t melting in the desert.  Poor Martin let in four pucks and we were happy Coyote’s fans. New Jersey only scored three. (Bah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha….. woo whoo whOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo!)  That was a Coyote howl, in case you didn’t recognise it.

This all started when Circle K (like 7-11) had this screaming deal where you bought cases of Pepsi and you received free hockey tickets.  Well, after $30 of pop was stacked in our garage, we were the proud owners of six tickets on the sixth row right behind the Coyote’s bench.  Sweet tickets!!!!  We did family night, but since our little girl is still in Colombia, we took our nephew Drew with us.  I’m not sure if he was the lucky fuzzy rabbit foot, or what, but he and Keeve were invited to RIDE THE ZAMBONI!  Any Canadian’s dream come true.  They rode for the second intermission and I took them down to the tunnel while Rick stayed topside to take pictures with his phone.  His phone usually takes really good pictures….. unless you’re in the Jobing.com Arena and they turn out the lights while your son and nephew are on the zambonis cleaning the ice!!!!  Here’s the best picture we have of our son riding the zamboni. {sigh}

They even had a spot light on the boys, put their names up on the big screen and pictured them waving for 2 or 3 minutes each.  It was so cool.  Keeve pointed at Larisa and did the “call me” sign with his hand.  Drew started doing the wave with his hands hooked together because his arms were tired from waving.  They were elated!!!!

And then to make a fun family night at the arena even better, some camera guy spotted Larisa and her and I were up on the big screen TOO!  It was like being famous for .27 of a second.  We always talk about how they zoom in on unsuspecting people and then when they figure it out they point at the big screen.  So of course we did that, in large over-exaggerated movements and shocked looks on our faces.  (Still makes me giggle.) A little old man saw Larisa after the game and told her, “You look good on tv!”

THEN, if the cheap tickets, good seats, two Zamboni rides and the big screen debut weren’t exciting enough…. the HANSON BROTHERS showed up!  And Larisa got to pose with them.  It was THE hockey night of hockey nights in Arizona.

To sweeten the deal to the max, because the Coyotes scored at least three goals, we all got FREE Burrito Supremes at Taco Bell!  Oh my word! This was better than Vegas!

Concussion cussion what’s your function?

Hookin’ up phrases and clauses and makin’ ’em run right.

Yes, that’s School House Rock Saturday morning cartoons coming back to haunt me… and now you too.  Well to sum up our hockey tournament trip to Anaheimin three easy words: concussion, beach, church.  Yes, Austin got slammed against the boards in the FIRST game of the tournament and got concussion #4.  Yes, FOUR.  Not good.  Blurry vision, tingling arms, intense headache, nausea… and a front row seat to watch the rest of the team finish the tournament without him.  (Coach Rick even took a stick to the nose and has wounds to prove it.) It was a supreme bummer for all of us.  We did hit Huntington Beach twice which seemed to calm all of our nerves.  And to top off Easter Sunday we visited Free Chapel in Irvine to hear awesome music by Adam Ranney and Israel Houghton (both former music pastors from our church) and preaching from Jentezen Franklin.  We had some CHURCH… which we severely needed after the head injury and downed spirits.

So, today we visited the doctor and he ran Austin through a battery of tests which were highly similar to a drunk driving test that I’ve seen on TV.  Anyway, there was no swelling, no signs of bleeding and Aus passed all the tests.  Thank God.  We learned all about concussions being rated in three levels.  It seems Austin’s have all been level two.  I don’t know if that’s good or bad…. but we were told that they are cumulative and it takes less and less of a hit to bring one on.  So…. Aus is out of contact sports for 5 months…. which corresponds exactly with the hockey season summer break.  I’m relieved at the news that he can still play, but will be very leery of every little hit from now on.

I have entertaining travel stories, as always, but they will wait for another blog.  GLAD to be home!!!!

Good Morning, Monday!

Yes, we survived gig #1 with Elvis and the newlywed game.  Rick was hilarious as Elvis, as those who know and love him can well imagine.  He forgot the words to one of the verses of Teddy Bear so he turned backwards and held up his cape…. for effect, I guess.  Then he started talking like Elvis, of course, to fill in the gap.  I don’t remember it all because I was laughing so hard, but I remember something like “If you are here with your main squeeze, take her hand right now and sing with me”…….. but he wasn’t singing.  We also forgot the tape for his sideburns, so they were flapping in the wind.

They boys won 2 of their 3 hockey games this weekend..Aus scored three goals… makes a mother proud.  I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel for this season.

We accidentally left Rick’s car at the church yesterday in all of the commotion that went on.  It’s a half an hour drive.  Bummer dude.  So I hitched a ride with one of our pastors early this morning and retrieved Rick’s car for him. 

So, the week is starting…. on your marks.  Get set.  GO!

Black Friday Adventures

Aus has the white helmet.  Rick has the Elvis sideburns.

Yes, I was up at the crack of dawnon this fine shopping day after Thanksgiving.  The catch: the only thing I bought was an eight pack of batteries at Walmart for the camera to take pictures at Austin’s hockey tournament.  Yes, I saw the sunrise.  It’s been a while since I’ve witnessed the colorful shades of early dawn.  I’m good now for another 6 months or so.

The hockey?  You ask.  The first team we played was the Pumas from Mexico City.  Really.  They have hockey down there!  And the kids were pretty good.  Austin’s team did win 5-3 with Aus scoring one goal, but it was only a spread of one for most of the game.  The fine folks from Mexico, in case you are wondering, are just as passionate about their hockey as they are their soccer.

To make a long, agonizingly painful story short, Rick is coachingAustin’s Pee Wee Travel team because the first coach quit.  Rick L-O-V-E-S it, and that’s an understatement, much to my chagrin.  I like the game of hockey now that I’ve had 23 years of watching it and learning the rules/strategy/etc.  I love watching my boys play too.  BUT, I have a problem when the alarm goes off at 6:15 a.m. on the day after Thanksgiving for a hockey game.  I’m not the hockey mom my husband dreams that I was.  (I did see a bling bling shirt at the rink that said “Hockey Taxi” that I would actually wear.)

I included these beautiful, hard to see-through-the-glass pictures to show just a glimpse of the ghetto rink that we play in.  It is so bad, it’s truly unbelievable.  And we PAY for this.  In the summer when it’s over 100 degrees outside, which is pretty much May – October, a fog forms on the ice as the players sweat.  Not only can you not see the puck at the far end of the ice surface, you can’t see the players.  I feel like the swim team from Philly in the movie Pride when the fancy team comes to their ghetto pool for a meet.  It’s half-way embarrassing. 

But look what Rick got from the Pumas:

Yes, there’s more hockey FUN tomorrow…. and EVEN on Sunday!  (……. yippy……..)

“Yes, M’am, I’m In a Safe Location”

Remember a few weeks back when my week was brought to you by the number 2?  Two flat tires…. two cars…   well, it was actually 5, yes F-I-V-E flat tires over a period of five weeks on our two cars.  The final one (I hope) was last week when I arrived at Keeve’s hockey practice.  I hopped out of the van to hear and watch the rear tire go flat in 15 seconds.  Quicker than usual, I thought. 

I called Rick and he confirmed that I should call AAA.  Believe me when I say that AAA is not making ANY money off of the Crosbys!  I’m so familiar with the drill that I save the AAA operator considerable time by answering her questions IN ORDER before she asks them.  “Hello, I am in a safe location.  I have a flat tire on my 2005 silver Dodge Caravan.  Here is my membership number and my cell phone number.” 

And you know things are not going exactly peachy when the AAA driver’s first words are, “Hey, I recognize you!”  Yeah, yeah, smarty pants, just fix the tire.  Not long afterward he added, “Good thing you got a full size spare!”  I wasn’t quite sure how to take that??? 

Seems there was a large crack in the tire.  Rick asked if I hit a curb or something bigger. I refrained from saying “You mean like the metal beam by your parking spot at the airport?”….. which he rubbed up against .  I’m slowly learning to be such a NICE wife.  It’s only taken me 21.4 years.

The needing-attention-flat tire in the back of the van has become so common place now, I keep a towel in the van to lay it on and I just stack the groceries on top of it…. and the hockey bags… and Jill’s card table for Bunko night.

All this does make my heart glad, however, for not long ago in a dire, out-of-town roadside situation I called AAA to discover that my sweet, economical husband had removed my name from the coverage plan.  What was he thinking?  I think I might just remove him from the laundry plan.  Before the shock wore off, I called Rick to see if the AAA lady was credible.  It was true.  Am I not worthy of roadside coverage???  His explanation, weak as it was, included illogical logic that I drive the reliable vehicle and HE is the only one who truly needs roadside assistance.  I don’t exactly remember my response to Rick at that moment. He probably does.  Kind of like when I mentally blocked the horror of my semi-Dorothy Hamill haircut in the 70s.  But within the hour, I had the AAA gold-package coverage and have used it at least four times since that memorable day.

Thank you, Honey, for taking care of me.

Wrapped up in Elvis

Remember back a few months ago when I was celebrating the end of my boys’ hockey seasons??? (https://mysistersjar.wordpress.com/2008/03/31/the-fat-lady-sang-tonight/) Well, it all started again tonight.  <sigh> There I was in my cute, little silver flip-flops and denim shorts wrapped in a purple and lime green fleece Elvis blanket in the ice arena.  (Thank God someone left it in the van!) I’m trying excruciatingly hard to have a good attitude about this.  It’s a lot of driving… a lot of time away from the family dinner table… a lot of money…. but I knew all this when I married a Canadian hockey lover.  One of his first purchases five years before we had children was a pair of size 3 flannel Edmonton Oilers pajamas…. then we had a daughter first…. so we kept the Oilers jams in a hope chest for EIGHT years until our son was born… then two more years til they fit him.  I should have caught on that there was a slight addiction problem.  I’ve named it H.A.D., Hockey Attachment Disorder.  I don’t believe there is a cure at present.  I’ve been H.A.D.

 The actual fleece!!

Back to my excruciating good attitude.  I’ve decided that I must make the best of my Wednesday night drive time (one hour total) and my sitting time (one hour total).  (This is for son #2…. I’m not counting son #1… hoping that Dad will always be available for him.  His practices require driving for 1.5 hours and sitting for 2 hours…. TWICE a week.)  Having a good attitude.  Having a good attitude.  Having a good attitude. O.K.

So tonight, sitting on a freezing cold bleacher bench, I coordinated two of my four calendars, my month-at-a-glance purse calendar and my weekly To-Do calendar with check-off boxes.  (Yes, a bit anal here, but anal people get LOTS done.)  I have not found a pre-made week-at-a-glance calendar that is compact but still has 6-7 lines per day… so each January 1st I make my own out of a Walmart notebook.  This year’s was quite fat, so I’ve used pages in the back for various lists, secret codes, etc.  One such list I happened upon tonight that I haven’t read since I made it in March.  It is the list of stories for a book I plan to write titled Squeezing Laughter into a Leotard: Devotions for Above Average Women.  It’s about weight loss and weight gain and weight loss and weight gain and weight loss and weight gain and God.  I was a bench or two away from several other hockey moms and dads, but as I read the story notes I laughed out loud twice and constrained myself several other times, so they wouldn’t think I’m completely nuts.  This was the burst of energy and kick in the pants I needed to direct my hockey time.  My laptop will now be traveling with my to the Ice Den each week.  I’m itching to get started.

Can I just say that if you have a rapid metabolism and are mortified when you’re bloated and need a size 5 …. you won’t comprehend the stories I’m writing.  You may think they are humorous, but you will NEVER understand with compassion what people who struggle with their weight deal with minute by minute.  It’s like a being married to someone with H.A.D…. you don’t understand unless you’ve walked in my skates.

Wish me luck.. better yet pray for God’s voice to speak truth to a hockey mom wrapped up in Elvis on Wednesday nights.  :o)

True Hockey Mum

(Austin Crosby National Champion, Fastest Skater Squirt House League – 2007)

Tonight was the first playoff game for my 11 year old son’s hockey team.  Before the night was over, my blood pressure was pushing the envelope and I needed throat soothing lozenges.  I’m an involved hockey mum (that’s Canadian, eh) who cheers at her sons’ games… but if you want to see me get a knot in my shorts, sign up to be another blind ref at our arena.  Read: we don’t need any more, thankyouverymuch.  Sweet Jesus was needed for another healing of the blind man.  Seriously.

My bright, skillful boy scored on a breakaway, lifting the puck, hitting the back post of the net and it popped right back out…. but the refs didn’t see it.  We jumped from our seats howling, with victory hands in the air…. then……wondered why the game continued to be played.  I’m not making this up.  There were fans for the other team trying to console me by letting me know that it was indeed the invisible goal.  THEN, my extremely talented son unselfishly passed to a teammate in front of the net and the other kid tapped the puck in.  We jumped from our seats howling, with victory hands in the air.  However, the goalie covered the puck on the ice with his glove, and brought the puck back out after it was over the goal line.  I almost popped a blood vessel.  Say it isn’t so.  Say it isn’t so.

At games I don’t scream and yell.  O.K., that was a falsehood.  Allow me to extrapolate.  I yell, “Shoot!” …often, …always at the top of my lungs.  When my athletic, brilliant boy has a breakaway, I yell, “Come on, baby. Come on, baby,” rapidly…. and repeatedly.  What I meant was: I don’t scream at the refs.  I’m trying to be a good example.

Crack me up tonight, a fellow teammate’s mom was sailing lines over the boards to the refs that could be dialogue for another Slap Shot movie…. minus the rough language.  They were priceless.  Who needs to pay sitcom writers when they could go to PeeWee league hockey games and get material worthy of an award.  She yelled, “We’re having eye exams out in the lobby for all the refs before the final game.”  :o)   And, “Just when I thought I knew the rules, you guys start messin’ with my mind.  I get icing.  I get offsides.  But I thought when the puck went in… we scored???”   I needed the laugh, to say the least.  My favorite was, “How much are they paying you?  We’ll double it!  Pass the hat!”

Final score on the scoreboard:  Them- 2; Us- 1.  REAL score in all the fans’ minds:  Them- 2; Us- 3.

Enough said.  (Goodness sakes.  It’s going to take me a few hours to settle down and get to sleep tonight.)