It's How We Roll

After the initial adulation of purchasing my skates wore off I considered, with a degree dread, that learning to ice skate has its up and downs. But thankfully I was not the only proverbial 'newbie' in the boat, oh no, I was sharing the boat with another. Which to the novice ice hockey/ice skater can calm the nerves a bit. I had a skating buddy for my first time skating in Canada (were babies are actually born with 'Wolverine' like blades on their feet), Oh yes, let's make no mistake I was in the dragons den, the demons lair, the Jedi temple, everyone is Canada is a skating God. I have seen them with my own eyes during my trials and tribulations at the rink. Parents, those responsible forebear's of compassion, education and love, take their barely walking offspring to 'an ice rink' and instruct the child in the art of skating. The Canadians are made for winter sports, just have a look at this very funky ad promoting "The Bay's" Winter Olympic clothing line and you will get what I am talking about. A strange juxtaposition that a people with so much warmth have so much passion for snow and ice and also their country does not grind to a halt every time a snow flake touches a railway track, unlike the UK.

So I had a "buddy" to share in my first tentative steps out there on the ice with, and not just your normal skating buddy, no, I had "Sal" from the IT department at work."Sal (Salaheddin)" shares his name with a very famous Muslim historical figure, Salaheddin the liberator of Jerusalem and smiter of the infidel hordes. And I witnessed first hand the power of this most noble name as "Sal" smited some dude when he played him online at PES Pro Evolution Soccer, very impressive. Anyway Sal claimed that he had not skated for a number of years, which made me feel okay because if fools we shall be then fools we shall be together! But to my shock and awe, his most modest claim was far from the truth, no, the fact is that Sal was very comfortable and graceful on his skates were as I looked about as comfortable as a walrus on a tight rope. With my confidence in tatters there was only one thing that I could do to salvage what little dignity I had left, "don't fall". But this was not to be the case, fate was about to deal me a fatal blow. In a nut shell, I ended up on my arse, but only once. Having skated around a few time I was really starting to like this whole "skating" thing, I felt more "Canadian". I felt that the I could call a moose out from the wilds or even say "aboooot" like one of the natives, I had Molson X running through my vein and nothing would stop me, NHL here I come. So with my mind firmly wrapped in delusion I was paying little or no attention to where my feet were and in an attempt to slightly shift direction I crossed my blades and "voila". I end up in a rather ungraceful heap on the ice. That was it, the deal was done, in my mind I had failed, totally failed. I fell, I had no dignity and no self respect, kind of like your dad when he confidently steps on your skateboard and proclaims "watch this son" (a sight which I have seen first hand, although without the proclamation.)

With arse on ice I was stuck by an obvious fact, I was getting too old for this and the whole "You've bitten off way more than you can chew" ghost slapped me in the face as a 4 year old child skated passed me giving me a look of sympathy. Thinking about it now I can only imagine the conversation that this child had with their parent during their drive back home, "mummy/daddy why was that man lying on the ice looking sad?" and the parent replies "That's what happens when your imagination far out weighs your ability." And the moral of the story, if first you don't succeed, make sure you do it again in private!

But being a plucky Brit and brainless Scot I could not let this get me down, so with Mel Gibson`s historically "Freedom" speech from Braveheart (which was filmed in Ireland and featured an Aussie lead actor who sported the worst Scottish accent in cinema history), ringing in my ears, I thought to myself, no, I have to do this.

Did I mention that several months prior to my decision to join the company hockey team "I had a dream", much like Rev Martin Luther King, that I scored a goal playing ice hockey wearing a Montreal Canadien's jersey (and for the GF's dad, yes I had other clothes on and not just the jersey!) A somewhat deluded dream but I felt amazing, it felt like Rockey beating Ivan Drago in Rockey 4 to the fanfare of the theme tune playing in the background.

I totally forgot to mention that "the rink (1000 De la Gauchetiere" where I practice is only 10 minutes walk from where I work in downtown Montreal and not only that it is slap bang in the middle of a high rise business type building. And this can be rather intimidating as people peer over the barrier from the food court or from the balcony above the rink. The last thing one wants is to skate head first into a full on dignity stripping moment in front of a crowd.

And being Montreal where anything goes, the walk to the rink is like watching death race 2000 all up close and personal. The folks here drive like absolute psychos and it's a wonder that there is anyone left in the city to actually drive.

My next post is a rather royal affair as I get a skating lesson from the last king of Scotland, and not only that, remember the dude from the first post who is nice as pie in the office and turns into a total loon on the ice? Well during lunch this fine man teaches me "the rules of ice hockey". And it is then that I learn my second lesson about ice hockey, "it's a bit rough".

Keep cool!