Beer League Confession: I Walk the Line

Photo by Walwyn

Sometimes in the heat of the moment I must think I’m Pavel Datsyuk. However, unlike my Russian hero, I strongly overestimate my stick handling abilities.

I realized this the other day when I was trying to be a superstar. Transitioning out of the neutral zone with my head down I managed to dek my way around three opponents. Not bad, right? Then the whistle blows. What’s the call I wonder? I didn’t think they had a penalty for being awesome. Offsides. On who? I’m gonna kill him! Apparently, my teammate crossed the blue before I brought the puck in. I head back to the bench¬†frustrated. How could the other winger make such a dumb mistake? Then it dawns on me. I’m the moron. Not only did I have one teammate walking the blue tightrope, there were TWO. Of course, I didn’t see them because my head was down, focused on what amazing move I was going to pull next. I’m sure they were standing there thinking, is that idiot gonna pass that puck or just play around with it? I should have just dumped it in. My teammates who were ahead of me would have been able to keep their momentum and I could have made a break for the net. We would have had a 3-on-1. Instead I had to show-off to a crowd consisting of a few wives and a groundskeeper.

There are a few places a player should never pull out his dekes and the blue line is one of them. In the future I’ll try to save my sweet moves for breakaways and shootouts. Maybe there’s a reason hockey doesn’t have a Harlem Globetrotters.

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