Eddie_Shack
likes oatmeal lumpy
I never really knew about street hockey until I moved to Michigan. I was instantly addicted though, once I discovered it. Our neighborhood was was too city for ponds, and the backyards were too small for rinks, but we lived on a small street with a church. My house was right on the church parking lot, and we spent about 9 months out of the year out there. The rule was, if there was no snow or rain on the lot, it was game time. 15 degrees in February? I don't see any snow, pussy, get out there. The worst was when you were skating (everyone had blades, you just can't go back to running with a stick once you've skated) and your stick hit a divot or a storm drain. You kept skating, the stick stopped, and you either had your stomach impaled or you couldn't piss right for a week. Good times, good times.
Our house had a two stall garage with two small doors instead of one big garage door. The house was brick, so in between those doors was a nice little three foot brick "net" for me to shoot at. To this day I credit that small space and my dad yelling at me for denting up the garage doors for my wicked wrister. I skate like Hal Gill, I have the vision of Mike Peluso, and my agility is on par with Tomas Holmstrom. But I'm a fucking surgeon with the wrist shot.
I remember taking my skates off to go inside for a drink of water when the Oklahoma City bombing took place. Any time I hear the name Timothy McVeigh or see an image of that attack, I'm taken back to... street hockey! Weird, huh?
Our house had a two stall garage with two small doors instead of one big garage door. The house was brick, so in between those doors was a nice little three foot brick "net" for me to shoot at. To this day I credit that small space and my dad yelling at me for denting up the garage doors for my wicked wrister. I skate like Hal Gill, I have the vision of Mike Peluso, and my agility is on par with Tomas Holmstrom. But I'm a fucking surgeon with the wrist shot.
I remember taking my skates off to go inside for a drink of water when the Oklahoma City bombing took place. Any time I hear the name Timothy McVeigh or see an image of that attack, I'm taken back to... street hockey! Weird, huh?