When you’re “DTD” with a lower body, but have a “B2B.”

Huge win for the boys last night stemming from your 37 save outing in the lower realms of Beer League Hockey. Had to battle through some tough PK’s but you managed to pull away with the W…while also pulling your groin.

“Yep, that’s gonna suck tomorrow,” as you sit on your knees in the crease for a few seconds and wince as you try to get up. If only warm-ups were 30 seconds longer to provide ample stretching time, or at least enough time to put your water bottle on the net and not turn around to immediately get pelted by your Bar Mexico seeking forwards as they’re more interested in sniping your water bottle than actually getting you loose.

But you’re not a pussy. You just finished game one and have to travel to another barn tomorrow night for the 2nd leg of a rare (and wife/girlfriend hating) back-to-back. You’re only condolence? Telling the boys that you sacrificed the body for them and more importantly your ability to perform later if you manage to persuade your significant other at 2am for some victory action.

It’s all about mentally and physically preparing for game 2. Mentally at work, you inform your uninterested associates of your nagging injury but that you’re willing to push through the pain again tonight, all for the sake of adding another digit in the W column. Physically, you’re consuming more carbs for needed energy. You take ZERO precautionary measures regarding your groin or strained muscle. Not only do you order chili with your Potbelly sub, but you also grab two, 500+ calorie cookies to ensure proper sugar ratios and blood glucose levels. Safety first boys, you’re going to have to dig deep tonight when you miss 80% of warmies and don’t bother to stretch again.


Beer League Goalie Tips for Proper Injury Recovery

“Oh fuck, I heard it pop in warmies!”

To say we’ve all been there before would be completely true. You sneak into the barn 10 minutes before your first round, low level playoff game that was randomly scheduled at 10:00 am on a Saturday, mentally prepared, oh yes, but physical preparation took a backseat to blasting rap and techno as you go the exact speed limit down the highway waiting for the red bull to kick in.

As you valet your whip (or simply park the car like a peasant in the lot), you rush into the dressing room to see half your team fully dressed waiting for the Zam to finish off the last three passes. You think to yourself, “I know I’m supposed to stretch, but I have so much Taurine running through my blood I’ll just let the adrenaline from fan presence (3 employees and 2 wives) carry my body to victory like the angels in Angels in the Outfield.

You walk onto the ice like you just got called up to the show, drop to your first butterfly while the ref is trying to do the “goalie you ready?” signal to get the opening draw under way. And it happens….’pop’……you sigh.

Now, nothing is really going through your head at this point. You think, well, I’m 28 years old, I popped it once when I was younger in the ACHA All Star Tournament at 9:00 am after a 13-hour drive doing college activities on the way with the boys, but I recovered quickly. Think again, the burn start’s setting in each time you drop. You’re getting crabbier by the minute, you’ve thrown several blocker’s to the back of 45-year old’s heads each whistle, you can’t wait for the first to be over to finally tell the boys about your injury.

The game ends, you lead your team to a big playoff win, and all you can think of is how you are not going to skip your round two playoff game the very next night, even if that includes a trip to a minute clinic for cortisone injection.

It’s now been 5 weeks from that injury, and you have taken zero time off from hockey, have not changed your pregame routine, have not followed your Chiropractors “recovery” plan, and have no intentions of making any changes to anything as you wake up with burning sensations in the groin region each morning. Well here are a few tips to get yourself back to feeling right:

Constantly talk about your injury to the boys, your wife or girlfriend, your coworkers, and your kids

  • This will help you get that pent up frustration you deal with every day from your injury as it lingers. You go to work like a big boy but walk like a little girl. You put the onus onto your family, friends, and loved ones to help you seek help to help yourself

Tell your family, friends, and teammates that you’ll rest up when you’re dead

  • Your passion and heart will go far beyond just the barn: Your wife will respect you more, your girlfriend will give you a ton of ass for being so masculine, kids will look up to you and want to be you, and your teammates will never blame a goal on you because you’re “playing through injury” for them

Go to a Physical Therapist, ask no questions, and take any massages they offer

  • You may get your back adjusted or groin reset or whatever the terminology is, but who was listening anyways? Take the meaningless stretches that have been provided to you and park them in the back of your head, ask the front desk pig when your massage is scheduled for, and come back as often as financially sustainable to let man or woman “heal” your injury that will help you get through the next 90 minutes of your day

Fight with your wife every time you have a game on back-to-back nights

  • Remember, telling your wife you have consecutive nights of games while she has watched the kids the past 4 days as you were on your business trip will not go over well, especially in conjunction with your grueling injury you have not stopped talking about. The only way to get your blood pumping to the spot of the pull is to get your blood pressure higher by arguing about anything and everything just before you leave the house
    • Add a heat pad or icy-hot on your injured area while fighting to enhance blood flow

Play until you require surgery or cannot walk any longer

  • Until someone forces you to sit out a game, you DO NOT rest your injury

You should now be adequately prepared to play through and overcome any, and all goalie related injuries. Happy Gonging.

Stacking The Pads

What’s sicker than stacking the pads?

Fried Wings and a cold cruiser. But that’s unrelated.

Most people have no idea the magnitude this save has on everyone involved in the game. What’s even more important is the fact that this is an immaculate save brought about by terrible positioning, lack of agility and pure desperation. And heart. Lots and lots of heart.

Robbing someone at the back post with the ol’ 2-pad stack can entirely shift the momentum of the game at hand:

Your own bench, (once they catch their breaths and summon enough energy) bang their twigs against the boards like a Viking battle drum – which immediately fuels a clear off the high glass (instead of through the middle of the slot) or a fast break the other way.

The opposing team is now forever rattled as they realize they must being playing against The Dominator reincarnated or one of his illegitimate offspring brought about by years of wheeling broads worldwide.

Total game changer.

The crowd (comprised of 3-4 WAGS and some stragglers from the previous tilt finishing their post game pitchers) also gives a semi-enthusiastic thumbs up and head nod of approval.

The point is, we need more pad stacking. It looks so epic and if completed correctly, makes you appear way better than you actually are. Because you’re a washed-up ACHA D2 Club Tendy playing in the lower 3rd level of your local Beer League.

Beer League Game Day – Office Prep

Game-day. It’s a huge fucking deal. It’s all that matters the day before, the day of, and the day after.

It’s important to let all those around you at work know that you’ve got an unreal Beer League tilt in less than 36 hours and can’t be bothered with petty work bullshit and co-workers complaining about something you may or may not have said about the weight limit of elevator when being stuck in it with a couple rhino’s.

Here’s a chronological breakdown of what goes on at work and home before/during/post game day.

The Day Before:

The mental and physical preparation of having to stop 35+ the next night is becoming real. All you talk about the day before is how you’re getting ready physically (by eating Chipotle for lunch because it’s high in ‘tein) and how everyone within a 20ft radius of your desk needs to know how huge you have to play in order for your Eric BENDros of a team to have a prayers chance at winning.

“Fuck my eyes I’m going to be so fuckin’ sore after tomorrow.”

Coworker: “Why?”

“Got a big game against the 5-hole Ticklers. Gonna get chippy out there.”

Followed by…

“Yo, we’re going to get some fresh salads for lunch, you coming?”

“Dude I just told you I need to prep for tomorrow. Bowl. Double Meat, Double Guac. Huge tilt tomorrow remember?”

The Day of:

You’re fired up. Nothing at work matters and you can’t be bothered with anything, let alone the simple tasks that are direct requirements of your job description.

9am meeting? CANCELED.

Lunch with client? PUSHED TO NEXT WEEK.

Boss needs you to work late? GRANDMA DIED.

You’re dawning any and every piece of pre-game ritual and superstition based flare that HR let’s you get away with: NHL Team hat, taped knuckles, water bottle on your desk for quick mid-email swigs.

You bounce early from work by swiftly fleeing your desk and looking concerned like you need to shit your pants as you head for the door not talking to anyone or making eye contact..because your Grandma died earlier as you stated.

The Day After:

This can go either 1 of 2 ways: You’re either still flying high as the fatigue of your 10:50pm slot hasn’t hit you yet because you managed to propel your team to a W,


You sit at your desk sore, demoralized, and a little raunchy (rink showers never stick) as you lost yet another game your team should of won.

Both involve telling all the employees around you and at the coffee watering hole how you made unreal saves to win, or how you made unreal saves to keep the game within grasp.

Either way your work friends pretend to care for about 4 min and then everyone sits back at their desks and browses Barstool and Bro-Bible until lunch. You however, check your stats and schedule to see when the next barn burner is, because you need to start prepping even earlier if you want the taste of sweet late night victory.

Buying Gear off Craigslist

As a Beer League Tendy, you are on a constant quest to have the sickest gear in the league. Whenever you see another goalie with a matching set, you automatically assume that he’s legit as fuck, and probably stops 35-40 biscuits a night on the reg.

However, due to life and the fact we don’t get paid to wear a brands gear (or get paid to sauce in general), we are forced to seek out the best deals for gear out there.

This often leads to Craigslist.

Once in a blue moon/when you see Ovechkin skating backwards, a gem pops up on Craigslist. After constant haggling through Ron TEXThall’s, you agree on a time, location, and price.

But just as sure as pass through the middle from your D-man gets intercepted, the gear is not as it was pictured. It’s beat to hell, straps broken, smells of cat piss, and not even the same color.

“Oh yeah, I took that pic like 3 years ago when it was pad wrapped shit green and yellow to match my Junior B team.”

Still because the goalie gear slut inside you craves new equipment like a diabetic seeing a dessert table, you buy it anyway.

Because you’re a dirty, dirty slut for any sort of new gear to add to your ongoing collection and plus, you’re going to be the seller in this same situation next year.