So! Connor had a hockey tournament this weekend. The short of it: they played well, they were way outclassed, they did not make it to the playoffs. The long of it: Last weekend, we discovered that the goalie on Connor's team seemed to play better when he was ill. My brilliant idea was that his parents should keep him mildly food poisoned for every game- sorry, kid. So long as you play like a rockstar and don't lose your food, you're a-okay in my book. This weekend, he had been saying he wasn't feeling well. The first game, they lost. They lost something awful. Six to one, in fact.
Hang on, hang on, let me explain how this whole thing worked. [Editor's note: I just deleted this whole paragraph. I bored myself, even.]
Gah. So they lose the first game... next time I'll tell you about one of the hissy fits. The second game, however, was as good as any NHL game. It ended two to one, our team scoring their second goal with five seconds left in the third period. Holy hell. (For those of you who don't know, there are only three periods. See why that was so exciting now?)
Remember back when I said the goalie wasn't feeling well? And that, so long as the food stayed down, no worries? Well, he puked all over the hallway in front of the locker room twenty minutes before the game. His mother way overdid it on the food poisoning thing. One of the other boys jumped in and played goal, keeping it scoreless for a period and a half. This was against a team that had won their last two games 7-0 and 6-1. So the kid, having never played goalie... it was frickin' amazing. Yeah, then they scored five goals. *sigh* No playoff round here.
Connor was great, though. He's far from top on the team, this being his first year playing competitive on ice. His coaches, though, call him an "animal" and say he "has heart". He falls on his ass a lot, but he never gives up, and to hell with the fact that the kid he is opposing outweighs him by half again. He'll take him into the boards anyway. This, his father taught him. He also leaves the game on the ice. There are no hissy fits, no pouting when he loses and no pomposity when he wins. This, his mother taught him. And this paragraph? This is why I'm so proud.