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Old Geezers are Just Boys with Wrinkles
By Eric Miller I’m getting older. I guess my friends are getting older too. “Get on the list,” he texted. “What list?” “Geezer hockey, Friday morning, minimum age is 50.” “It’s been a while since I skated on ice.” “You’ll be fine. Other geezers will be there. They’re cool guys.” With that my brother threw…
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Beer League Hockey Has No Free Agency
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Even Hockey Coaches Have Hearts
by Eric Miller Readers, a prologue: This article previously appeared in several newspapers and on my blog. I share it again in memory of Eric Trivedi, a fellow hockey buddy. Originally from Dearborn, Michigan, Eric started playing hockey at age 5 and was a founding member of the California State University-Chico inline hockey team. Eric…
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Old Hockey Player Forgets About Scoring Stats
By Eric Miller “A great hockey player plays where the puck is going to be.” Wayne Gretzky Some scoring statistics are best forgotten. You’re not a hockey player until you’ve scored on yourself a saying goes, quoted by an anonymous player too embarrassed to admit doing it. In hockey we score on opponents—not on one’s…
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Young Referee Whistles While He Works
By Eric Miller “You can’t applaud a referee.” Alex Ferguson, Coach, Manchester United They are jeered, never cheered. It’s black and white. Great referees are invisible to the general fan but invincible to the general jerk. Officiating is not for the faint hearted. Hockey refs need thick skin—crocodile skin–beneath the stripes.
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The Dork
By Eric Miller Every team has one. Whether its baseball, basketball or badminton, there’s always that one guy who doesn’t quite enmesh locker room society. Maybe it’s his or her lousy jokes, bad breath, or that they wear turtlenecks year round. For me it was Marvin Smellmoore’s nose. The average length of an adult nose…
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Playoffs Are All That Matter
by Eric Miller It’s only an eight game schedule but my body thinks otherwise—the season feels like 80 games. My legs burn with each stride while my lungs gasp for more air than a carburetor. But we’re in the playoffs and complaining is for sissies. Everybody’s whipped, even our rivals, and it’s time to separate…