If it's Thursday, we must be winning. Am I right or am I right?
Maybe I shouldn't be this giddy about laying the smack down on kids born in the 1990s. Maybe I was just happy to get a game in when it didn't look like we had a field. Maybe I've been drinking ever since I got home.
But no matter what unreasonable heights I've reached since we first stepped foot on the Shannon Park turf, no one can deny the fact that the Bag of Hammers are on a winning streak.
And to top it off, I may have found my dream bar in the Ship Victory Restaurant and Lounge. An interior like a boat, a steady diet of classic rock played at a reasonable enough volume to allow conversation, and a dirt-cheap menu of greasified goodness. Mama I'm comin' home.
Congrats to all! And many thanks to Double-A for the photojournalism - I didn't know I was that skinny. Jesus. I need to eat more victory burgers.
Peace,
Tim
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Action!
You can find the whole set here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/muiseam/sets/72157620568162050/ (or here in slide show form) - and a sample below...
I tried to get everyone - sorry to anyone who doesn't see themselves...
Great game Hammers!
-AA
I tried to get everyone - sorry to anyone who doesn't see themselves...Great game Hammers!
-AA
Friday, June 19, 2009
Victory, Thy Name Is Silver.
Greetings all, I've just entered our winning score from last night on the HURL site and let me tell you, it felt fantastic.
Know what else felt nice? The cool flow of air against my torso as I galloped down the field during one of my three actual running efforts last night. Kudos to Eve for delivering the on the new jerseys. I felt like I was running around on the Commons shirtless. Say... any chance we can get shorts to match?
Full marks as well to first-time Hammers Aimee, Chris and Mark, who combined for more than half our points and increased our team athleticism exponentially. The best part is that they're all paid in full - we have them all season! Booyah!
Not all was fresh and new, however. It did my heart good to see Ivan and Chantelle take shifts together and vocally express their "support" for one another. It felt like 2001 all over again.
Great turnout at Freeman's last night, hope for more of the same in future weeks.
And if the weather's pleasant post-weekend, mayhaps we can get together for an hour or so early next week for a practice of sorts...
Peace in the Middle East,
Tim
p.s. For those who were absent last night, this is what we looked like running down the field in our new jerseys:
Know what else felt nice? The cool flow of air against my torso as I galloped down the field during one of my three actual running efforts last night. Kudos to Eve for delivering the on the new jerseys. I felt like I was running around on the Commons shirtless. Say... any chance we can get shorts to match?
Full marks as well to first-time Hammers Aimee, Chris and Mark, who combined for more than half our points and increased our team athleticism exponentially. The best part is that they're all paid in full - we have them all season! Booyah!
Not all was fresh and new, however. It did my heart good to see Ivan and Chantelle take shifts together and vocally express their "support" for one another. It felt like 2001 all over again.
Great turnout at Freeman's last night, hope for more of the same in future weeks.
And if the weather's pleasant post-weekend, mayhaps we can get together for an hour or so early next week for a practice of sorts...
Peace in the Middle East,
Tim
p.s. For those who were absent last night, this is what we looked like running down the field in our new jerseys:
Friday, June 5, 2009
So This Is The New Year
The scene - Hammers have just taken a 3-1 lead over the all-bluey Random Fling. Aaron turns to Derek "I think we've got this one - we PWN this game" (PWN - pronounced "owwwwn"). Derek shudders and pretends he did not hear this, but it was too late - the jinx had been cast, like a stampeding PATRONUS curse, trampling any chance we had at victory.
But let us not talk about the score (which was 10-7, for them), or the dropped passes (which were numerous, from everybody), or the wobbly forehand passes (hi), or the turnout (which was scant), or whose fault this all was (because as we've already established, it was mine) - let us talk potential. Envision it - already resigned to our pending defeat, the Hammers stand along the goal line, awaiting the RF huck, and propose an experiment, nay - a gameplan: "let's try working on our short game". What followed was a series of surgically precise 10 yard passes that nearly resulted in what would have been the most beautiful point of the evening. Hammers, we have it in us; as a great man once said "if you want it, you got it, you just got to believe". That man, was Lenny Kravitz.
EDIT - I'd like to add that the actual "most beautiful point of the game" was the long Hammer (entendre!) from Derek to Ivan to finally drive a stake into that seemingly-interminable game... a thing of beauty.
See you next week!
-AA
But let us not talk about the score (which was 10-7, for them), or the dropped passes (which were numerous, from everybody), or the wobbly forehand passes (hi), or the turnout (which was scant), or whose fault this all was (because as we've already established, it was mine) - let us talk potential. Envision it - already resigned to our pending defeat, the Hammers stand along the goal line, awaiting the RF huck, and propose an experiment, nay - a gameplan: "let's try working on our short game". What followed was a series of surgically precise 10 yard passes that nearly resulted in what would have been the most beautiful point of the evening. Hammers, we have it in us; as a great man once said "if you want it, you got it, you just got to believe". That man, was Lenny Kravitz.
EDIT - I'd like to add that the actual "most beautiful point of the game" was the long Hammer (entendre!) from Derek to Ivan to finally drive a stake into that seemingly-interminable game... a thing of beauty.
See you next week!
-AA
Friday, August 22, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Playoff Roundup
Hello Hammers,
I would classify our performance at the playoffs as sassy and damp, with liberal sprinklings of foolishness. Game one saw us pitted against Crucial Taunt, who handed us our collective asses for the second time in less than a month. Both teams were hindered by the beginnings of the downpour that would follow, and it was a fairly even contest throughout, except when it came to scoring, which they did 10 times and we did once. Our lone tally came just after the horn signalling the impending end of the game, and was celebrated with a degree of enthusiasm generally associated with far greater achievements. AA quietly observed that our opponent may have let up ever so slightly, but we chose to ignore his treasonous lies.
From there we stormed promptly into the consolation round against the formerly inept Screaming Vikings, who proved to be Slippery When Wet, not unlike the great Bon Jovi, whose musical stylings some of the team would attempt later in the evening in front of an X-Box at Jason's stag. The rain soaked field, slick frisbee, and early onset of fatigue complicated things considerably, but in the end we managed to squeak out a victory by a two point margin, which the other captain (Ruley McRulebook) and I agreed to round up to 9-7 in hopes of saving face. I attribute much of our success to the portion of the game in which I walked my son around the field to test my damaged ankle, leaving my team without my defensive ineptitude and sudden inability to throw forehand. AA in inspired us all by running at his normal speed despite having to hold his hips in place with both hands and catch with his teeth. Our female players, as is generally the case, carried the team to victory.
After cramming ourselves in Adam's van for a half hour, we took the field for our final match against Heavy Rotation, who conceded to wear whites in light of our controversial concession earlier in the season. We put on a defensive clinic in that game. On more than one occasion they went 10 minutes without crossing half. The problem was that the slippery disc, coupled with our increasing fatigue, growing ineptitude and indifference, rendered us largely unable to score from short range, and entirely too eager to hurl ill-fated hammers from long range, turning the contest into a laughable example of how not to win. That said, despite the general perception post-game that my suggestion to forfiet the final contest in favour of an early trip to the bar was a good one, I think we all enjoyed the final game. We made it clear that we are just as happy to score three points in spectacular fashion on largely broken plays as we are to score fifteen with prudence and careful design, which is effectively the statement we have been making all year.
All things considered, a good show, and a good season Hammers. Based on our discussions post-game, I expect a good showing for Timmy's on Thursday. When should people arrive Tim?
I would classify our performance at the playoffs as sassy and damp, with liberal sprinklings of foolishness. Game one saw us pitted against Crucial Taunt, who handed us our collective asses for the second time in less than a month. Both teams were hindered by the beginnings of the downpour that would follow, and it was a fairly even contest throughout, except when it came to scoring, which they did 10 times and we did once. Our lone tally came just after the horn signalling the impending end of the game, and was celebrated with a degree of enthusiasm generally associated with far greater achievements. AA quietly observed that our opponent may have let up ever so slightly, but we chose to ignore his treasonous lies.
From there we stormed promptly into the consolation round against the formerly inept Screaming Vikings, who proved to be Slippery When Wet, not unlike the great Bon Jovi, whose musical stylings some of the team would attempt later in the evening in front of an X-Box at Jason's stag. The rain soaked field, slick frisbee, and early onset of fatigue complicated things considerably, but in the end we managed to squeak out a victory by a two point margin, which the other captain (Ruley McRulebook) and I agreed to round up to 9-7 in hopes of saving face. I attribute much of our success to the portion of the game in which I walked my son around the field to test my damaged ankle, leaving my team without my defensive ineptitude and sudden inability to throw forehand. AA in inspired us all by running at his normal speed despite having to hold his hips in place with both hands and catch with his teeth. Our female players, as is generally the case, carried the team to victory.
After cramming ourselves in Adam's van for a half hour, we took the field for our final match against Heavy Rotation, who conceded to wear whites in light of our controversial concession earlier in the season. We put on a defensive clinic in that game. On more than one occasion they went 10 minutes without crossing half. The problem was that the slippery disc, coupled with our increasing fatigue, growing ineptitude and indifference, rendered us largely unable to score from short range, and entirely too eager to hurl ill-fated hammers from long range, turning the contest into a laughable example of how not to win. That said, despite the general perception post-game that my suggestion to forfiet the final contest in favour of an early trip to the bar was a good one, I think we all enjoyed the final game. We made it clear that we are just as happy to score three points in spectacular fashion on largely broken plays as we are to score fifteen with prudence and careful design, which is effectively the statement we have been making all year.
All things considered, a good show, and a good season Hammers. Based on our discussions post-game, I expect a good showing for Timmy's on Thursday. When should people arrive Tim?
Monday, August 18, 2008
I Can't Feel My Legs
Sorry - that is incorrect. I can feel my legs - too much even - and they hurt like holy hell. I am 31 years old and have played sports my entire life. I have hiked Gros Morne and Jasper and Banff. I once dead-lifted my Echo to impress my neighbours and scare the cats. Never have I felt such godawful pain in my legs. No combination of stretching and bananas and Epsom and beer and ketamine (kidding) could relieve the agony from having run flat out for three hours in the unseasonably cold, pouring rain. My body hates me. And I hate Crucial Taunt.
But hey - at least it was fun.
See y'all at Tim's on Thursday? (Tim?)
I leave thee with some motivation for staying active:
But hey - at least it was fun.
See y'all at Tim's on Thursday? (Tim?)
I leave thee with some motivation for staying active:
-take-5056.jpg)
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