Over at Interchangeable Parts http://interchangeableparts.wordpress.com/2007/09/29/psuedo-opening-day-ducks-vs-kings-092907/ in their game day diary they wrote:
"7:15 We hear all about how when Kopitar was a little kid he frequently asked his grandmother to interview him in English. That’s probably why we’re not professional athletes – we didn’t commit enough to the dream of being interviewed a lot when we were kids."
Not only did that line bring the funny, but it also inspired this post. (Hopefully the girls at IPB aren't rolling their eyes at that. "Oh fabulous, we inspired THAT?! - eye roll ;)
That made me think of when I was a kid. I think I'd been reading a bunch of Nancy Drew at this particular juncture and I got into this detective/crime solving thing. In one she'd managed to escape after being tied up because she tensed her wrists in a particular way and thus was able to loosen her bonds. So, gleefully, I recall begging my Dad to tie me up. At the time, I didn't understand why he didn't seem super keen to do so. Once I got older, it was apparent, and hilarious to me. The poor guy figured Social Services would pick that time to send over the child protection services and how would he explain that.
"But you don't understand, she just wanted to pretend to be Nancy Drew, that's all!"
(The workers, between themselves: "And who were you going to pretend to be - you sick &^%$" they say to one another before they remove child-me from the premises).
And in case you're wondering, I do believe I was able to convince him in the end, but he used those big green garbage bags. Not ropes or chain or anything. And of course this all came in very handy for my detective career. Um, well... Hey, I did date a P.I. once! But when he tied me up I didn't want to escape. Just kidding. About the tying up part that is - I really did date a P.I. - it was kind of creepy.
"Ok, let me tell you where I live."
"Don't bother, I'll find you."
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Hockey Date in Canada
So I'm watching the NHL season opener from England and the commentator says something along the lines of, "he put his arm around the guy and almost took a penalty". So I think (sarcastically) to myself, "wow, putting your arm around someone (a gesture of affection) is a penalty huh" which leads me to picture being on a date and the guy goes to put his arm around me and I say stridently, "hey! nuh uh, penalty!.." which immediately led me to the continuation of that thought, "..2 minutes in the box!". Uh. Hmm, that might not work so well. Ahem. Right-o then.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Hockey Talk
This summer I read a hockey blog (can't remember which one) talking about how many games some of the juniors play. The author made a case about how people sometimes complain about hockey players sounding "dumb" in interviews and how that's not a surprise when these young guys are playing a zillion games a year, really, how are they supposed to talk about anything else besides the usual hockey cliches?
I found this interesting, in part I think because I'd never really thought of that particular argument before. And apparently it stuck with me, because a month or so later it's still thought provoking. What got me thinking about it again was listening to some player interviews today. And I thought it would be nice if interviewers asked more non-hockey questions. Or at least broader hockey questions. This might help generate less cliche-ridden answers. I mean really, how many answers are there to "what do you need to do to score out there tonight?" "Well, we've just got to put the puck in the net" (no shit, that's the definition of scoring) "I think we need to fight harder for the puck" (no doubt, hard to score without it) "We need to create some more chances" (again, no shit)...
If the interviewer asked things more 'hockey-related', say "what do you do to get ready for a game" - I'd probably be more intrigued.
And we're out of time. Thanks for joining us tonight on Hockey Talk.
I found this interesting, in part I think because I'd never really thought of that particular argument before. And apparently it stuck with me, because a month or so later it's still thought provoking. What got me thinking about it again was listening to some player interviews today. And I thought it would be nice if interviewers asked more non-hockey questions. Or at least broader hockey questions. This might help generate less cliche-ridden answers. I mean really, how many answers are there to "what do you need to do to score out there tonight?" "Well, we've just got to put the puck in the net" (no shit, that's the definition of scoring) "I think we need to fight harder for the puck" (no doubt, hard to score without it) "We need to create some more chances" (again, no shit)...
If the interviewer asked things more 'hockey-related', say "what do you do to get ready for a game" - I'd probably be more intrigued.
And we're out of time. Thanks for joining us tonight on Hockey Talk.
What's in a name?
Sometimes I see a cool name in credits or something. Then I usually can't remember what it was. But through the wonders of blogging, I can now document this kind of thing (oh, lucky you, readers!). Today I saw the last name "McEvily" - that's pretty cool. I might marry that dude just to get his last name ;)
It's a lot better than the dentist office sign I used to drive by from time to time - Dr. Pus - I dislike going to the dentist enough, no way I'm going to one named that.
It's a lot better than the dentist office sign I used to drive by from time to time - Dr. Pus - I dislike going to the dentist enough, no way I'm going to one named that.
Quotable Quotes
After being released from the hospital due to a nasty hit, NHL'er Dean McAmmond said:
"People say I've got concussion problems but I don't have concussion problems. I've got a problem with people giving me traumatic blows to the head, that's what I've got a problem with."
Nice.
"People say I've got concussion problems but I don't have concussion problems. I've got a problem with people giving me traumatic blows to the head, that's what I've got a problem with."
Nice.
Toast Talk
I was away from home for a few days awhile back and when I returned I found my toaster outside. I figured either my housemates were VERY slowly moving me out, or something was up with the toaster. I later found out that it was apparently 'shooting out flames' while someone was making toast. I was kind of sorry I missed that. Then later I found a piece of toast outside, near the abandoned toaster, and it made me laugh because the toast was VERY black in the middle.
And while I'm on the subject of toast(ers), this summer I discovered one of the most annoying things - a Disney toaster - it plays stupid songs while it makes toast. And I thought mornings were bad before...
And while I'm on the subject of toast(ers), this summer I discovered one of the most annoying things - a Disney toaster - it plays stupid songs while it makes toast. And I thought mornings were bad before...
Friday, September 21, 2007
Game Day Diary, Part 3 of 3
So where was I? Ah, yes....
After the stretching I drove off to get myself showered up and have some lunch and so on. I then proceeded on a several hour journey to get myself to a hockey game. I ran into parking problems at one point and almost missed a connection. But eventually I found myself at the rink where I waited with a bunch of other early fans until the doors opened. I must have been one of the very first people through the doors. I did a quick look at some merchandise, then proceeded to check out the food and beverages. I ended up getting natchos and a Sprite (yep, I know how to have a good time!). I almost never drink Sprite, but I happened to see it and thought of Marty (Brodeur that is, not Short or Turco or Casey or....) so that's what I went with. I then proceeded to my seat. (Yes, not only do I know how to have a good time, I know how to do so all by myself. Wait. Uh... That sounded kind of kinky. Anyhoo....)
I chowed down on my natchos and took in the atmosphere as more people filed in. In the end, despite a nearly full areana, I had an empty seat on one side of me. The guys sitting on the other side I had a couple complaints about. One, the guy sits down and immediately claims both armrests. Two, they stunk. Or at least one of them did. I'm not exactly sure what it was, but I'm going to go with cigar smoke as it seemed like sitting beside a cigarette smoker times about 50. I finally smartened up and moved over a seat. Now I was beside a group of guys who were really enjoying craploads of beer. And I could tell they'd been enjoying said beer for quite some time, as they were hugging each other or otherwise demonstrating their affection for one another in a way that men (or straight ones at least) never do unless they're drunk. It was amusing.
The game itself was ok but I couldn't help but compare it to an NHL game and so it was a bit lackluster. But it was cool being in the crowd, having other people gasp at the same plays that I would and so forth. There were even some fights (on the ice). I noted that my reaction to the fights was different than usual. When watching an NHL game I get pretty into the fights. These being young hockey players (teens), I found the fights somewhat less enjoyable. Kind of brought back memories of guys fighting in high school. As a girl you sometimes felt bad for a guy who would have to fight even though he was probably really scared to take on some tough guy. But I digress.
After the game I made my way out and headed toward public transit. I had a *lovely* interaction with a guy who stared at me and then said really loudly, "Nice guns, Mama!"
I responded with, "Really, do you think so? Cool, let's go do it!"
Okay, I didn't really, duh. I also didn't pull out a couple guns and shoot the guy.
And for the record, I wasn't even wearing anything low cut or revealing or whatever. Jeans and a long sleeved shirt (green) with a hood. But I digress again.
And that concludes my "game day" report.
After the stretching I drove off to get myself showered up and have some lunch and so on. I then proceeded on a several hour journey to get myself to a hockey game. I ran into parking problems at one point and almost missed a connection. But eventually I found myself at the rink where I waited with a bunch of other early fans until the doors opened. I must have been one of the very first people through the doors. I did a quick look at some merchandise, then proceeded to check out the food and beverages. I ended up getting natchos and a Sprite (yep, I know how to have a good time!). I almost never drink Sprite, but I happened to see it and thought of Marty (Brodeur that is, not Short or Turco or Casey or....) so that's what I went with. I then proceeded to my seat. (Yes, not only do I know how to have a good time, I know how to do so all by myself. Wait. Uh... That sounded kind of kinky. Anyhoo....)
I chowed down on my natchos and took in the atmosphere as more people filed in. In the end, despite a nearly full areana, I had an empty seat on one side of me. The guys sitting on the other side I had a couple complaints about. One, the guy sits down and immediately claims both armrests. Two, they stunk. Or at least one of them did. I'm not exactly sure what it was, but I'm going to go with cigar smoke as it seemed like sitting beside a cigarette smoker times about 50. I finally smartened up and moved over a seat. Now I was beside a group of guys who were really enjoying craploads of beer. And I could tell they'd been enjoying said beer for quite some time, as they were hugging each other or otherwise demonstrating their affection for one another in a way that men (or straight ones at least) never do unless they're drunk. It was amusing.
The game itself was ok but I couldn't help but compare it to an NHL game and so it was a bit lackluster. But it was cool being in the crowd, having other people gasp at the same plays that I would and so forth. There were even some fights (on the ice). I noted that my reaction to the fights was different than usual. When watching an NHL game I get pretty into the fights. These being young hockey players (teens), I found the fights somewhat less enjoyable. Kind of brought back memories of guys fighting in high school. As a girl you sometimes felt bad for a guy who would have to fight even though he was probably really scared to take on some tough guy. But I digress.
After the game I made my way out and headed toward public transit. I had a *lovely* interaction with a guy who stared at me and then said really loudly, "Nice guns, Mama!"
I responded with, "Really, do you think so? Cool, let's go do it!"
Okay, I didn't really, duh. I also didn't pull out a couple guns and shoot the guy.
And for the record, I wasn't even wearing anything low cut or revealing or whatever. Jeans and a long sleeved shirt (green) with a hood. But I digress again.
And that concludes my "game day" report.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Game Day Diary, Part Deux
I hit the 9k mark. I check my watch, I'm making up time but I've lost way too much in the first half. (I should be running a 10k in under an hour, mind you, I didn't train for this other than the week before, which is highly wrong). Walking for just a few feet crosses my mind, this is unusual at this stage of a race (but usual when running, for me). I grit my teeth and kick on to the finish. I know I'm close when I pass the walkie talker person who relays your number to the finish so they can announce you. I sweep over the line, forget to stop my watch. I am momentarily confused by the finish clock - I looked at one for another distance (starts are at different times) and feel a frisson of disappointment to realize my watch was not wrong while I was out there running and I truly have not finished in less than an hour. I put my leg up on a bench so they can remove my chip (no, I'm not a robot, it's a timing device you wear on your shoe). A volunteer chats to me and another hands me a bottle of water. Wonderful event. I then peruse the finish line goodies, drink my water, and wait to see the times posted. 1:04:37.
I check out the scene and then check out the contents of my race package. A small bottle of Dasani water (if I'm drinking bottled, I'll pick out this brand so cool); a coupon for a running store; some cool hair elastics; a thermal beanie; Motrin and pain relief instructions; a magnet for a real estate dude; a coupon for a free bicycle tune-up (which a lot of people will want, thinking, 'sheeeeeee-it, I'm never running again! where's my bike?!'); pamphlets for assorted stuff, including an upcoming marathon in another city; more pain stuff; foot cream; and body cream, all in a "totally degradable" bag. I stretch, and then it's off to the next part of my journey....
I check out the scene and then check out the contents of my race package. A small bottle of Dasani water (if I'm drinking bottled, I'll pick out this brand so cool); a coupon for a running store; some cool hair elastics; a thermal beanie; Motrin and pain relief instructions; a magnet for a real estate dude; a coupon for a free bicycle tune-up (which a lot of people will want, thinking, 'sheeeeeee-it, I'm never running again! where's my bike?!'); pamphlets for assorted stuff, including an upcoming marathon in another city; more pain stuff; foot cream; and body cream, all in a "totally degradable" bag. I stretch, and then it's off to the next part of my journey....
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Game Day Diary
6:20 a.m. - The alarm beeps and I shut it off. I'm surprised I slept pretty well despite some interruptions and don't feel like killing anyone just to be able to get a few more minutes sleep.
(Usually I'm a bit paranoid that the alarm won't go off and so I wake up a lot, sitting up in panic to check the time).
I get up and get ready. I'm useless at eating right when I get up so I grab some Powerade (the green one, pineapple melon flavour) and a dried fruit thin.
7:00 a.m. - I drive off to where the run I'm doing will be held. I'm unsure about parking.
I'm nearing the start/finish area of the race but I keep going and end up finding a parking spot really close. I'm shocked, and very pleased.
This race is a corporate challenge event. There are various distances, I'm signed up on a team that's to do the 10k. The team itself seems to me very poorly organized (it's not my company). The team leader was kind of waffling over whether or not we'd get enough people and that was excuse enough to me to not train for the event. I emailed when the event was closer and the waffling was still there. Then about 2 days beforehand, I get a call from the team captain saying it's a go.
I'm now in the parking garage about to go off to find this woman who I barely know. I get to the congested race start area and go inside the hotel where we're supposed to meet. Not there. I check the bag check area, not there. And so on. I'm getting a little panicked because the team captain picks up the race packages. This means I have no number etc. and I'll be mighty pissed if I got up early and this doesn't come together. Finally I see the woman outside.
The event itself I discover is very well organized. I'm pleased. I've done races before where they run out of fluids at the fluid stations and that is not cool. The start/finish line has official clocks, there's music blasting, and the usual atmosphere. If you're not familiar, it's a kind of 'runners camraderie' thing going on. A lot of stretching, jogging, pinning bib numbers on and that kind of thing. And line ups for the porta potties of course. I enjoy the atmosphere, solo as my team seems to be snobby. (One woman on the team gushes about how she's really slow and she'll be last and she won't stop fretting. I'm trying to be reassuring etc. She ends up coming in 2nd in her age category. I'm sorry, but bite me you stupid be-yotch. Honestly, that's just insulting. No one who actually is slow etc. comes in 2nd in their age group at a race like this.)
The announcer comes on and starts to rev us up for the start. It's ironic, because I'm a slow runner, but I'm mentally telling myself to start slow - it's a well known fact that going out too fast early is a killer. And at big events like this one it's easy to get pumped up and not realize your pace is way fast.
As we get closer (the official clock is counting down), they put on Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Good choice. I've always found that intro to be very inspiring. So I really tell myself to watch my pace. BANG! Just as the song kicks in (nicely timed!) the starting gun goes off and we begin. In case you're not familiar with these events, the starts are packed so it takes a bit to cross the line.
I check my watch at the 1k mark. Shit! Way slow! Like over a minute past what it should be. Apparently I was so worried about being too fast I've created the opposite problem. But I don't learn from this, I still think I'd better be careful not to increase my pace too much. When I check my watch again, still way slow. Yet my pace doesn't feel slow. This is why you can't go with how it feels.
5k mark - I can't remember exactly, but I think I was at 36 or 37 minutes some odd seconds. Not good. WAAAAAY too slow. So I power it on. As I approach the 6k mark a cover band is playing a Tragically Hip song. I'm inspired. I'm a fair distance away when they start into the next song, but I can tell it's one by 54-40, cool.
As you run along on these things, people actually cheer for you. When I was somewhere around km 3 or 4, the lead male runner was passing me in the opposite direction. Damn these top people are fast. He even gets bicycle escorts. Way cool. They have signs on the bikes to tell you it's the lead guy. A ways after him come more men, singly and in packs. I'm keeping my eye out but it's a good while til the top female passes. After her comes a guy, he's yelling encouragement at me. I'm too tired to yell encouragement at other people when I'm running, sheesh.
I like the design of this course. It's not 100% out and back, but mostly, and the 1st half has a lot more uphill - the 2nd have much more downhill, awesome! The fluid stations are well run. Everything is great. Except my fuck up with my timing, but whatever. It's a beautiful day.
Can't remember exactly where, but at one fluid station they were having a little battle, the water server was trying to get me to take water, the gatordade server his wares (the gatorade silly, sheesh). The lucky winner was stoked I picked his beverage, while the water server made a last ditch effort, asking something like, 'and some water too??' I managed a grin (hell of an effort, this running shit is draining y'know).... to be continued....
(Usually I'm a bit paranoid that the alarm won't go off and so I wake up a lot, sitting up in panic to check the time).
I get up and get ready. I'm useless at eating right when I get up so I grab some Powerade (the green one, pineapple melon flavour) and a dried fruit thin.
7:00 a.m. - I drive off to where the run I'm doing will be held. I'm unsure about parking.
I'm nearing the start/finish area of the race but I keep going and end up finding a parking spot really close. I'm shocked, and very pleased.
This race is a corporate challenge event. There are various distances, I'm signed up on a team that's to do the 10k. The team itself seems to me very poorly organized (it's not my company). The team leader was kind of waffling over whether or not we'd get enough people and that was excuse enough to me to not train for the event. I emailed when the event was closer and the waffling was still there. Then about 2 days beforehand, I get a call from the team captain saying it's a go.
I'm now in the parking garage about to go off to find this woman who I barely know. I get to the congested race start area and go inside the hotel where we're supposed to meet. Not there. I check the bag check area, not there. And so on. I'm getting a little panicked because the team captain picks up the race packages. This means I have no number etc. and I'll be mighty pissed if I got up early and this doesn't come together. Finally I see the woman outside.
The event itself I discover is very well organized. I'm pleased. I've done races before where they run out of fluids at the fluid stations and that is not cool. The start/finish line has official clocks, there's music blasting, and the usual atmosphere. If you're not familiar, it's a kind of 'runners camraderie' thing going on. A lot of stretching, jogging, pinning bib numbers on and that kind of thing. And line ups for the porta potties of course. I enjoy the atmosphere, solo as my team seems to be snobby. (One woman on the team gushes about how she's really slow and she'll be last and she won't stop fretting. I'm trying to be reassuring etc. She ends up coming in 2nd in her age category. I'm sorry, but bite me you stupid be-yotch. Honestly, that's just insulting. No one who actually is slow etc. comes in 2nd in their age group at a race like this.)
The announcer comes on and starts to rev us up for the start. It's ironic, because I'm a slow runner, but I'm mentally telling myself to start slow - it's a well known fact that going out too fast early is a killer. And at big events like this one it's easy to get pumped up and not realize your pace is way fast.
As we get closer (the official clock is counting down), they put on Thunderstruck by AC/DC. Good choice. I've always found that intro to be very inspiring. So I really tell myself to watch my pace. BANG! Just as the song kicks in (nicely timed!) the starting gun goes off and we begin. In case you're not familiar with these events, the starts are packed so it takes a bit to cross the line.
I check my watch at the 1k mark. Shit! Way slow! Like over a minute past what it should be. Apparently I was so worried about being too fast I've created the opposite problem. But I don't learn from this, I still think I'd better be careful not to increase my pace too much. When I check my watch again, still way slow. Yet my pace doesn't feel slow. This is why you can't go with how it feels.
5k mark - I can't remember exactly, but I think I was at 36 or 37 minutes some odd seconds. Not good. WAAAAAY too slow. So I power it on. As I approach the 6k mark a cover band is playing a Tragically Hip song. I'm inspired. I'm a fair distance away when they start into the next song, but I can tell it's one by 54-40, cool.
As you run along on these things, people actually cheer for you. When I was somewhere around km 3 or 4, the lead male runner was passing me in the opposite direction. Damn these top people are fast. He even gets bicycle escorts. Way cool. They have signs on the bikes to tell you it's the lead guy. A ways after him come more men, singly and in packs. I'm keeping my eye out but it's a good while til the top female passes. After her comes a guy, he's yelling encouragement at me. I'm too tired to yell encouragement at other people when I'm running, sheesh.
I like the design of this course. It's not 100% out and back, but mostly, and the 1st half has a lot more uphill - the 2nd have much more downhill, awesome! The fluid stations are well run. Everything is great. Except my fuck up with my timing, but whatever. It's a beautiful day.
Can't remember exactly where, but at one fluid station they were having a little battle, the water server was trying to get me to take water, the gatordade server his wares (the gatorade silly, sheesh). The lucky winner was stoked I picked his beverage, while the water server made a last ditch effort, asking something like, 'and some water too??' I managed a grin (hell of an effort, this running shit is draining y'know).... to be continued....
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