Two Games with One Puck

When I step onto the outdoor ice I can feel the snow beneath my skates, the cold breeze on my face and the stick in my hands.

The feeling of excitement comes over me the second my skates touch the snow covered ice. I smell the moisture in the air, I hear the skates digging into the ice. All I can see are the snow banks, the houses and the sky surrounding the rink.

There is no zamboni. Little sticks, pebbles and grass peak occasionally trough the ice. Only to be scraped under by the snow from my snow shovel. Skating back and forth across the ice with my snow shovel becomes tedious but is necessary for the puck to slide on the ice.

When I play outdoor hockey I play for myself. My stick does not get taped and my skates do not get sharpened.  All I want to do is play the game.

Nets are obsolete. Nets can be anything from a trashcan to a size ten shoe. We are not playing to keep score. We are playing because we love the game.

The jersey does not mater, just if there are enough layers for me to stay warm. Gloves, skates and a stick are the only pieces of equipment needed.

An outdoor hockey game is friendly but can turn competitive.  There are no penalties and only the basic rules are followed. The game lasts as long as the players want to play. 

Teams are never the same; people come and go, only to be missed if there are not enough players for even teams.

Outdoor hockey is the therapeutic.  It is good to play without pressure.  There is no one telling me how to play, I am just playing. It reminds me of being a kid again.

There is only one reason I play, for the love of the game.

When I step onto indoor ice it fells smooth and majestic. The warm radiation of the crowd makes me sweat almost instantly.

The feeling of nervousness comes over me the second my coach comes into the locker room after team warm ups. I smell my lucky unwashed t- shirt underneath my jersey. I can hear the crowd cheering as my team comes on the ice. All I can see are the fans, the boards and the roof surrounding the rink.

There is a zamboni. Hockey sticks and skates tare up and snow coat the ice. Only to be flooded under by the water pumping through the back end of the zamboni. Having the zamboni after every period is tedious but is necessary for the puck to slide on the ice.

When I play indoor hockey I play for the team. My stick is taped up before every game and my skates are sharpened every week. All I want to do is play good for my team.

Nets are six feet by four feet. Nets can be nothing but steel and mesh. It is the final score that complements the essence of the game.

The jersey does matter; it is the logo on the front not the name on the back. Gloves, skates and a stick are only the beginning of all the equipment needed.

An indoor hockey game is competitive and mostly never turns friendly. The game lasts for three twenty-minute periods and that does not count the possibility of over time.

Teams try and stay the same: people come and go, only to be missed if the team does not do as good without them.

Indoor hockey hurts. It is good to play with intensity. The crowd, the other team, and my coach’s instructions fill up my thoughts. Coinciding with these influences makes me fell grown up. 

There is only one reason I play, for the love of the game. 

1st draft

Outdoor ice is chunky and weather worn. If it is a snowy day then you better bring the snow shovel. Little sticks, pebbles and grass peak occasionally trough the ice. Only to be flooded under by a concerned player and cooled by Mother Nature. The outdoor hockey player plays for himself or herself. Sticks are not taped and skates don’t get sharpened. Teams are never the same; people come and go, only to be missed if there are not enough players for even teams. The jersey doesn’t mater, just if there are enough layers to stay warm. Gloves, skates and a stick is the only equipment needed. An outdoor hockey game is friendly but can turn competitive. The game lasts as long as the players want to play. Nets are obsolete. Nets can be anything from a trashcan to a shoe. It is not the score of the game but the essence of the game.

Indoor ice is smooth and quietly majestic. Is it is a snowy day then you are protected by the elements. Hockey sticks and skates slash up and snow coat the ice. Only to be flooded under by an unconcerned zamboni driver a cooled by the air-conditioning. The indoor hockey player plays for the team. Sticks are taped up and skates are sharpened. Teams try and stay the same: people come and go, only to be missed if the team doses not do as good without them. The jersey does matter; it’s the logo on the front not the name on the back. Gloves, skates and a stick are only the beginning of all the equipment needed. An indoor hockey game is competitive and mostly never turns friendly. The game lasts for three twenty-minute periods and that doesn’t count the possibility of over time. Nets are six feet by four feet. Nets can be nothing but steel and mesh. It is the final score that compliments the essence of the game.

Hockey ice can be on a pond or inside a man made ice rink. If it is a snowy day there is always a place to play hockey. The ice could be weather worn or human torn. Only to be fixed by some water and cold temperatures, by a man or a machine. The hockey player plays for the love of the game. Sticks might be taped and skates might be sharpened, all that matters is that they touch the ice. Teams change: people come and go; mostly to be missed. A jersey is a piece of cloth that symbolizes a team but represents a player. Gloves, skates and a stick are at least the only thing needed to play. Nets are needed. Nets can be anything from regulation size to a size twelve shoe. It is the score of the game that selects the winner but the game itself is the only thing that matters.

Hockey Photos

Sorry it took so long

The Riots in Vancouver

The riot. The sports riot. Such a curious thing. Why would anyone destroy the town that they reside in? Well it’s probably a revolt against the government…No. Its probably a riot against the “1%” … no that not it. It is a full-scale rage against the unfairness of the game 7-championship game in the National Hockey League.  The Boston Bruins defeated the hometown Vancouver Canucks. According to Canadians (especially Vancouver fans) it was their year and they deserved it. Hockey is Canada’s favorite past time and national sport. They take it seriously. Serious enough not to believe their eyes when winning the Stanley cup, something they pictured since the begging of the season, got striped away from them. This is what I believe this photo essay is all about. It is capturing the rage, the hurt, the unfairness of a loss that was not expected, and a loss in the biggest game in Vancouver’s recent history. A loss not only for the town of Vancouver but a loss for the entire nation of Canada.

It is a photo essay that captures a riot and all the feelings of that riot. It is a piece of journalism not a beautiful photograph slide show. The photographer is focused on the actions of the people. Mostly all the people are showing rage except for one or two photographs. The most interesting of these photographs is the one where the couple is making out laying in the middle of the street. The angry mob is running away from the line of policeman only leaving the couple in the middle of the street. This was by far to me the most interesting photograph in the essay. I was going to say that the theme of the photographic essay was rage. The other photograph that does not align with the theme of rage is the 4^th photograph in the set. A man is jumping up and down in joy because he just set a big pile of junk on fire. You would think that a riot is only filed with rage and frustration but according to this photographic essay riots are filled with love, joy, and laughter. So I thought what is the theme of this photo essay? The theme is forgetting. The people forgetting the pain of a loss, the people forgetting the felling or rage, the people forgetting this hockey season and moving on to the next one. They were not going out without a bang win or lose. 

Photos