They Both Looked Great...

Until They hit the ice.

Getting the Last Laugh!

Fools will believe ANYTHING you tell them!

LOL!!!!

Labor Day Super Series

Labor Day Weekend opens our Hockey Season.   Some may recall that a certain rule - delineated by the Potomac River - determines which team our kids can play on this year.  So, this past weekend, north and south (TeamMaryland {TM} and Washington Little Caps {WLC}) met at the preseason opener in our old home rink with our boys facing off against each other for the first time.

 

New teams mean new guidelines, including dress codes.  Team Maryland is required to show up in “appropriate attire” which The Maven finds a bit silly and translates to Z-E-R-O when it comes to the actual playing of the game.  But hey, go along to get along.  The Maves’ husband got his Breezers in a bunch about the requirement and thundered:   “If I wanted to send my son to charm school, well, I’D A' DONE THAT!”

Thankfully the code doesn’t extend to headwear.  An Ohio team showed up looking to successorize in black berets.  Now, it’s one thing when you have fully grown men with stern looks, chiseled jaws and broad shoulders wearing berets in the Special Forces…but 11 year olds with soft-skinned faces and boyish grins in varying stages of orthodontic treatment?  Well, they look more like they’re from the Renoir School of Hockey.

Not. Cool.

Anyhoo, this weekend was less about the hockey and more about the socializing.  Sadly, Miller Mom and The Mave totally dropped the ball when it came to battle readiness.  To be honest, The Mave experienced great discomfiture when a certain email circulated before the weekend discussing “rules” regarding alcohol consumption on Rink property.  Call it a guilty conscience if you will, but at first glance The Mave thought the email was sent only to Her and cc’d to the rest of the team.

Luckily none of the WLC parents received that email.   And lemme tell you what.  

THEY CAME PREPARED.

Chairs and tents are a tipoff for a solid tailgate organization but the Washington Little Caps parents have established the new rubric.  The Maven arrived to the triturating hum of this:

Hell yeah!

Busily building a batch of Margaritas is a dad whom we’ll call, um, “Mr. Cuervo.”  His portable machine crushes ice with the power of an Asplundh wood chipper and whirls up a smooth consistency drink every time.  The Mave's convinced it's hooked up to a car battery.

And while Mr. Cuervo is on beverage duty another WLC dad is tending the BBQ…but not your run-of-the-mill-portable-tailgate-jobber.  Nuh-uh.  “Mr. Kingsford” is lovingly tending his sirloin tips on one of these:

Yup.  That’s a permanent hitch to his pickup.

Now, I don’t care who you are or where you come from, that there demonstrates a whole other level of tailgate commitment.  

The partying did much to soothe the, still open, flesh wounds leftover from the River rules’ separation of our once unified team.  And it’s certainly a life-affirming experience to know that good friends remain good friends even when you’re not on the same roster.

So, Major Props to our pals on the other side of the Potomac.  Yallz brought the true meaning of Christmas to us this weekend with your amazing whiz-bang-gizmo-tailgating-gear!  See you at the Rinks!!

xo

The Mave

Oh, Dat Philly Tawnuhment? Fuh-gedda-boud-dit.

Memorial Day Weekend is a dedicated hockey tournament weekend in The Maven household.  No exceptions this year with some slight changes in our team roster.  Regrettably, some of The Mave’s Fave’s would be absent due to obligations surrounding that fatuous-wannabe-hockey-no-ice-included-sport by the name of “Lacrosse.”  Pishaw.  This means the absence of some key players:  Miller Mom and Molson Mom.  Oh, and their sons – players on our previous spring DC Selects teams.  Anyhoo….

In April we would compete in the CHI-Town Shuffle – we were a solidly dominant team heading into said tournament with our boys, no doubt, feeling heady.  Having summarily CRUSHED all the opposition leading up to the finals our team stepped onto the ice for the championship game drunk with cockiness and moxie and let the harder working Michigan Nationals blow us up in dramatic fashion.  Ugh.

Next up – Memorial Day Weekend in Philly:

As defending champs at the Philly Shoot-out, and coming off of the colossal FAIL in CHI, parents and players alike were thirsting for blood.  First game was Friday around noon and despite all the manly-talk before the game, we lost 5-6.  Notwithstanding the appearances of a close game our team played one of the worst games The Maven had witnessed since, well, ever.

Our unusually light schedule of only one game each day until the playoffs certainly provided, if not demanded, multiple hours of drinking.  And dammit, if our kids weren’t going to do the heavy lifting, well, someone had to step up. 

Saturday, we played the Mercer Chiefs – from Jersey.  Interesting group.  Many Mercer dads sporting the NJ Passport:  Upturned collar on the pastel Polo shirt, Oakley’s and rockin’ the Fake-Bake pretty hard.  (You can’t make this S**t up)

Another loss. 

MORE heavy drinking.

Sunday our boys begin to gel.  Defense is clicking, forwards working as a unit, finally some promise.  We win – with our goal differential putting us in the finals! Superstition aside, the heavy drinking is clearly having a positive effect.   Next up is the semi-finals and you simply don’t tinker with what’s working…

Heavier drinking.

We make it through the semi’s to face, once again, Mercer Chiefs in the finals.  Mercer – who is now, undefeated.  The Mave would be lying if She said there wasn’t a palpable hubris detected when the Chiefs stepped on the ice.  The Mercer parents also arrived, Pink Polo’s festooned with a major “we got this” swag.

A hotly contested game with both sides playing well.  However, the once genteel and nearly golf-clapping behavior of the NJ fans was O V E R.  The gloves came off late in the second period and the heavily Jersey accented, foul-crying, ref-bashing, over-the-top-hockey-moms (and dads) came out. Whew!  The Mave hadn’t seen that quick a metamorphosis since we beat the crap out of the Jr. Flyers on their home ice.

   

The DC Selects got an empty net goal with 1:30 remaining, making the score 5-3.  Our side of the bleachers erupted with an impromptu foot stomping of Queen’s “We Will Rock You” beat.  At that point those cocksure Jersey parents were nearly homicidal.   And lemme tell you what...That.  Felt.  Guuuuuuude. 

5-3 Final.  

   

So after a very inauspicious beginning to the Spring season our boys closed the deal right and proper – retaining their title of defending champs in the Philly Shoot out.  Thus ending another Spring Hockey season.

Bada Bing!!

"A Little Perspective, Like A Little Humor, Goes A Long Way" allen klein

This weekend marks the end of the travel portion of our hockey season.  That said, short of a Nation’s Capital Style Fireworks display, the sendoff was phenomenal.  No, our boys didn’t bring home the gold this time… (that’s soooo three months ago…)  The Mave believes this band of parents, Coach and players have a quality that’s rarely found in the world of youth hockey:  Perspective.

The tournament would take place right outside The Mavens beloved Boston. In the hours leading up to departure the perfunctory pre-tournament emails circulate about minor logistics and how to handle the inevitable “down time” between games.  Saturday would create the greatest challenge - our only game would be played at 7:40 pm.  True to form, nothing was solidified in those emails.

Friday morning around 9 am plans begin to congeal when one of the dads suggests we organize a proper tailgate and grill up some burgs, dogs and steaks before Saturdays evening game. .  Though, not an expert on TSA rules, The Mave’s pretty sure none of the parents successfully smuggled grilling essentials on board.

Recognizing this is Massachusetts and it is the middle of February, our compressed time interval for  armamentarium acquisition, the tremendous odds against finding the requisite armamentarium and the risk of failure…the team parents were, of course, all in. 

All options were on the table including an Amazon overnight delivery.  Ultimately, a small faction set out for the equipment reconnaissance---with dogged persistence prevailing at a nearby Target which had only 2 grills remaining from their summer inventory.  The second confederacy was then immediately dispatched to the local grocery store for victuals and liquid provisions.

Word of the event spread faster than news of Scarlett Johansson’s nude photos on Twitter.  By 4:30 the coals were white-hot and visibility down to 5 feet due to smoke at the far side of the New England Sports Center parking lot.  About 40 or so red-solo-cup-bearing-hockey-parents milling about, talking, laughing and freezing their a$$e$ off.      Just.  Perfect.

Then without warning, (admittedly The Mave had had a few), the smoke momentarily cleared, the heaven’s opened up and the sound of Handel’s Messiah could be heard.  That’s when she appeared, clad in pure white---some say she looked like a snow-angel---introducing:  “Absolut Mom.”  (cue: Ecclesiastical Music...)

She handed The Mave a Venti size white Styrofoam cup containing an amrita beyond compare.  Immediate warmth glazed over The Maven.  What were the secrets of this elixir???  The Maven had to know! “Grey Goose and Hot Chocolate,” replied Absolut Mom. 

WOW.  This stuff is so good that after a few sips, The Mave was sure we were about to witness the second coming of “Miracle on Ice.”   The rink took on an ethereal quality with everything seeming, well, just that much better.  Half a cup later and those heretofore idiot refs became positively “Mr. Rogers-esque.”  All along, The Maves cup remained inexplicably full, replenished from a reservoir unseen and unknown.  

Our boys won that game, the specifics are unimportant since The Maven has no recollection of them anyway.  They advanced to the quarterfinals and were defeated by the Boston Jr. Eagles on Sunday.  Drats.

But, we come away from this final travel tournament like each of the other matchups… with a team who gained more experience, honed their skills, remain eager to face any opponent in the regional finals next weekend, a stellar Coaching staff with nonpareil leadership and a parental core who remains supportive, cohesive and optimistic.  All this, despite the certain inevitable disbanding of our unit at the seasons end, by powers beyond our control. 

So, yes.  It’s rare, we know it and we have it.  Perspective.

The REAL Reason Smokers Don't Get Dental Treatment

This just out from the CDC:  “Fewer smokers go to the dentist”

Uh…Really?  The Maven sure hopes the CDC didn’t spend a lotta cash money on that research, cuz any garden variety dentist coulda told you that. 

 

According to Fox News:  “More than a third of smokers reported having three or more dental problems, ... more than twice as much as people who never smoked.”

Further:  “20 percent of the smokers said they had not been to a dentist in at least five years."

And here’s the real kicker:

“Half of the smokers said they could not afford to see a dentist, a much higher proportion than non-smoking adults who didn't go.”

Oh my dear…tsk, tsk, tsk…The Mave is s o  w e a r y of that over-used, worn-out, threadbare, dog-eared excuse.

Here’s the numbers:

Average number of cigs smoked daily for typical smoker:  30

Average price of a Pack of Cigs:  $6.29  (if you’re that unlucky puffer in NY, your average is $11.90)

Since one pack (20 cigs) is easier to calculate, let’s use that as our average daily inhalation:

Weekly expenditure:  $44.03

Monthly expenditure:  $176.12

Annual expenditure:  $2113.44

And, drum roll please…

National average cost of dental cleaning and exam:  $160

Hmmmmm…lookey there, that’s less than the average monthly for Cigs.

So,  if you’re a member of the nearly 20% of the US who smokes…could you please start answering the question of why you haven’t seen a dentist since Carter was President or why you only see a dentist when you have a problem in an honest way?  Try one of these:  “I don’t care about my teeth” or “It’s not a priority for me” or “I generally don’t take very good care of myself anyway.”

But, please.  Stop the Bull S#&+.   

And BTW?  You needn’t worry about “confessing” to the dentist that you’re a smoker.   We know.

Happy New Year!

"There are two ways of being happy: We must either diminish our wants or augment our means - either may do - the result is the same and it is for each man to decide for himself and to do that which happens to be easier."

Benjamin Franklin

The Maven wishes you all a very Happy New Year!