Well, I am officially (mentally and physically) back. Rachel's reign of terror is over, and I am back to rule with an iron fist. (Thanks, Rach, I appreciate your helping a brotha out.) However, before I could catch up on some sleep and wring out my liver, we had a hockey game last night. My team is currently 0-1 after losing last Sunday in overtime.
Despite the MWE hangovers of me, Vinnie, and Fish (Badger was a no-show), we came out fairly strong in the first period, taking the lead after Randal Graves first goal. He ended up with three goals and an assist . . . bastard. The second period was more of the same, although the other team started to become chippy, with a slash here and an elbow there.
In the third period, we came out really flat, and gave up the tying goal toward the end of the game. It was now 4-4, and we were heading into overtime, a word which makes my teammates and I wretch. The first half of the OT was chippy, but neither team had any really good scoring chances. Late in the OT, their winger rushed up ice, and Fish "met him" by the boards. Unfortunately, the opponent won the "meeting" and passed the puck toward our net, where his linemate tapped it in. We lose, 5-4. Damnit.
Personally, I looked like crap. I couldn't capitalize on any chances, and was only so-so in our defensive end. Basically, I suck. Our next game is Sunday night. Hopefully, we won't see another overtime.
(BTW, the Man's Weekend posts will be up shortly. Stay tuned!)
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