Programmed Anticipation.

In an hour and a half I'll be playing my first game of Hockey in 23 years.

As crazy as it sounds, and it seems like I must be breaking some obscure Canadian law, but it's been that long since I was on the ice in full gear.

I don't own gear anymore - I don't even own a decent pair of skates - but a guy I work with has invited me out to play program (Drop-In) hockey, and is willing to supply me with some, so off I go.

I love the game, but got away from it when I was 16-17 years old. (Yet another thing I want to slap past-me for.) Anytime I thought about getting back into it, the cost of equipment and league fees kind of shied me away. But if I can get out there and have a good time in some borrowed gear, I think I just might have to reevaluate that thought.

Oh, yeah - that gear? Most of it is the guy's brother's - except for the skates and the stick.

The stick belongs to this guy - Carsen Germyn.

And the skates?

They were only worn for a season or so by this fella right here - Rod Brind'Amour.

Talk about big shoes to fill. (Who knew I had the same foot size as an NHL'er?)

The guy I'm going with has played for years, and grew up with Rod and played with Carsen - so please don't report the gear as stolen - they gave it to him long ago.

I'm so wired with nervous anticipation it's killing me. And even though I knew that this will be a killer cardio workout, I just had to get my four miles in this morning. (Training waits for no one.) All I could think about during the run was that I hope I don't fall on my ass on the ice.

I think I'll finish my coffee, and try not to pace too much waiting for him to pick me up.

If I'm not a puddle of sore muscles on the floor afterwards, I'll let ya know how it went.







Later.