Being new to this aspect of the game, we're looking forward to playing in new rinks. Part of the allure will be making the rides -- some longer than others -- to play new teams at different rinks. If it means a two-hour ride south, so be it. Same, too, for two trips later this spring to the Orlando area.
That's why it's called a travel team, right?
When we received the spring schedule last week, part of a teamwide e-mail blast, it meant that any response to that message would be received as well. Unfortunately, one response caught me off-guard: "Why are we getting HOSED with all the travel?"
Though I can relate to the many miles of highway travel that await us, it seems a bit odd that a parent who willingly pays for their child to play on a travel team is lamenting the need to travel. To me, the parent, and not the child, was whining.
Given that two youth hockey organizations combined to form one team, meaning 42 kids were competing for only 20 to 22 skating positions, there were a number of kids who didn't the team. For every family that felt the excitement, there were nearly as many who were disappointed.
To Mr. Whiner, I'm sure there is at least one family who would be willing to trade places with you over the next few months. Besides, it's about the kids, not us hockey parents.
If you want to stay home, sir, do us all a favor, please: just let the organization know.
Thanks Pat
Anyone who lives in the Hockey Bay area knew that last Thursday brought some severe weather to the area. Nine tornadoes were reported. A truck flipped over on the Howard Frankland Bridge. Thousands, as of Saturday, were waiting for electricity to be restored.
Though we may have gotten a bit damp dodging raindrops while hounding the Pittsburgh Penguins that day, it was to be expected. Sure, the overhang outside the hotel afford some protection, but strong winds pushed the rain sideways at time.
Where we didn't expect to get wet, though, was inside the St. Pete Times Forum later that night as we watched the game. Unfortunately, that's what happened as a steady drip fell on our seats.
After a few minutes, The Missus got up and found an usher. A supervisor offered her a seat in another section. Seeing that we didn't want to split up for the rest of the game. We ended up each sliding over one seat to the right. It didn't help.
This time, I went down and spoke to the usher. I was told to wait for a few minutes and the supervisor would return. Well, five minutes became 10. Ten minutes became 20. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled.
Finally, Pat, the supervisor arrived. I explained the situation, as The Missus had about 35 minutes earlier, and told her that we were less than satisfied with not only the situation, but the poor customer service as well. Pat asked for another few minutes.
True to her word, Pat soon returned. We gathered ourselves and belongings and followed her. At first, we thought we'd be moving to another section. Instead, we headed for an elevator. A quick ride down two floors and the doors opened to the club level. From there, Pat led us to an all-inclusive suite, complete with all-you-can-eat-and-drink service and leather seats. After out initial surprise, we repeatedly thanked her.
From where I sat, Pat made one heckuva save. It's nice to know that the Tampa Bay Lightning, under new ownership, cares about its fans.
Quote of the week
"Let me guess, Sidney signed?"
Puckhound, to Moody, upon getting a call less than 25 minutes after leaving the team's hotel and heading over the the Glazer Children's Museum with Colin. And, yes, Pittsburgh's Sidney Crosby signed for a few people before dealers bumrushed him not once, but twice. Moody, by the way, got a pair of autographs out of Crosby.
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