Where have I been?

I've been in a state of oblivion...it's kind of lonely here. I mean there are plenty of others here, too, but being oblivion they're...you know. Anywho....

So my hockey team has been out of town for the past couple of weekends. So fellow hockey nut Meredith and I have been driving to Tulsa to see our friend play for the Oilers. We've had fun going up there and cheering for the enemy. Actually Meredith cheers for our pal, and me being the person that I am, totally consumed by this sport, I just cheer and yell and scream. And even though it is Tulsa's ice, I feel it would be rude not to cheer for them (unless of course they're playing the Blazers).

Last Friday the Oilers played the Ft. Worth Brahmas and won in overtime (my boy got the game winning goal -- hell yeah!) Meredith and I went downstairs as usual to congratulate the team, coach, zamboni driver, etc. Security doesn't exactly monitor the locker area so as we were waiting for our friend to come out, we got to see a couple of Ft. Worth boys wearing nothing but towels and smiles (this definitely falls into the category of what mama don't know don't hurt her). I would have thought that couldn't be topped. But Saturday night was a riot. Oilers played the Wichita Thunder. The Oilers won, of course. With about 30 seconds left in the 3rd period, two guys just start beating the shit out of each other. They're taken off the ice but not escorted to their respective locker rooms. So they continue the fight. Which of course leads to a bench clearing brawl. Ahh, I could have died happy at that moment. The guys get back to their benches and the fans near the Wichita bench are laying into the coach. He starts attacking those nearest the glass, attempting to throw things, gesturing, etc. The last 30 seconds of play commence and all ends well, more or less. I happened to be sitting near the visiting team tunnel (bird's eye view of the Oiler bench - hell yeah!) and as the Wichita coach walks by I say "Hey Coach I know where your team gets their good sportsman like conduct from." He's standing with the team trainer and the trainer says, "Why don't you just kiss my ass?" My wonderful, lady-like reply, "Why don't you drop your pants and I will." They just picked their jaws off the floor and proceeded to the locker room. The moral of the story is this: If you're going to drop the gauntlet, be prepared for an ass-kicking. Because I'm going to pick up the gauntlet and beat you to a bloody pulp.

Now post game activities almost didn't happen. I met up with a Oiler girlfriend and we got downstairs for our congratulations, etc. I met up with my always appreciative hockey playing friend. He seemed quite gloomy...he said the coach didn't give him alot of shifts...but the amount of time he did play went well. He just rolled his eyes and said 'whatever.' What else can I say to encourage him? I've almost run out of things to say. I suppose a high-five, a pat on the back, or hug is always good...I mean they work for me.

I guess that gets us caught up for the moment. I'll try to post again later this week.