Get yer Gillies on

As I may have mentioned occasionally, I play rec hockey.

You should know that by “rec” hockey, I don’t mean ice hockey, a standard men’s “beer league.”  The players in my rec league have the beer part down just fine, but the skating, not so much.  This is deck hockey – we’re all on foot, running around like idiots.  Laugh if you must – we do – but it’s all in fun and exercise.

I am a goalkeeper by trade, but for a few years I’ve played defense for a lower division team, and we made our first division finals this season.  Since several of them are fellow Islander fans, I hatched a plan.  I took the standard playoff beard and modified it to amp up the team for our winner-take-all Game Three showdown:

The classic Isles royal blue is absolutely necessary.

Now, did it work? …

Nah, not so much.  We were in the game until I wound up screening my goalie (and I really should know better), and then the wheels came off.  Lost 6-1.

In hindsight I see several area of concern with my plan.  Area the First: when I get my Gillies on, it’s not CLARK Gillies.

For one thing, I can’t grow the awesome ‘fro that Jethro was famous for. My guys wouldn’t care one way or another about that, but I don’t have Hall of Fame playing skill, either.  The best I can manage is the Trevor Gillies.  And that brings us to Area the Second: I can fu the manchu all I like, but it doesn’t look at all like this:

He looks like he's about to eat a stanchion.

On an intensity scale of 1 to Trevor Gillies, I’m about a Doogie Howser.  In fact, there’s a reason I’m a goalie – and not in the Battlin’ Billy Smith mode, either.  This is more my speed:

Hey guys, good game. How about a Dr Pepper?

Goalies are just weird, y’all.

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One thought on “Get yer Gillies on

  1. Kate P April 8, 2011 at 10:08 pm

    Ooh, tough loss. I do appreciate it when players get fired up and do some special appearance thing. Are you sure a home perm wouldn’t have worked for the ‘fro? (Kidding–friends do NOT let friends do at-home perms!)

    Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve got mane envy. (The facial hair the boys can keep.)

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