Pond Hockey Weekend, hold the pond hockey
Transformation Tuesday: Roll with it, go with the flow, best laid plans, etc., etc.
I know.
I know.
I know.
Make no mistake, you read that right. “Hold the pond hockey.” The New England Pond Hockey Classic was cancelled. (ICYMI, I wrote about that event last week and how excited I was to be going back after a year off (thanks for nothing, COVID) (link to that below), so its cancellation was a big deal. Or was it?
It’s been cold here in the Northeast so (unlike some other years) there was no pre-event “will-it-or-won’t-it-freeze?” drama. There was sheer excitement accompanied by some planning and coordination which every year proves unnecessary—inevitably we end up with enough food and drink for a large army as everyone seems to pack everything assigned to everyone else, “just in case.” In case of what has yet to be seen, but we’re well over-prepared in any case. You never know. There might be a weekend when we actually need 128 King’s Hawaiian Rolls. 🤦🏼♀️
It was busy here on the home office front on Thursday, so once it was clear that our work days were not conducive to scooting out a bit early, we flipped from “aim for 4:30” to “we’ll get there when we get there” mode and relaxed, kind of. We were happy to be going away, so what did we care about time, really?
Before we left the house we got word that one of the carpools had suffered a breakdown (not a flat tire, like a legit “thank-God-you-have-AAA-plus” event…the beast needed to be towed from Hooksett, NH back to Boston) en route. As soon as that news broke, everyone was offering up assistance and support of all kinds (teamwork!) (makes the dream work!) and with some creative problem-solving and a local sibling willing to loan her car to her sis, that crew was back on the road eventually (and well ahead of us). Another of the cars designated for assignment had a bit of an incident the day before—deer strike—and had to go to Plan B to get up North, so after those two cartastrophes (see what I did there?), I was a little anxious to get there in the same car we left in, and without incident. Kerri’s car is new, but it was raining hard, visibility is tough, and, well…deer.
Anyway, we finally got out of the house, checked off all the items on our list at BJ’s, got on the road, drove, drove, drove, picked up the pizzas at Giuseppe’s, arrived at the rental, and were greeted with nothing but smiles and helping hands. It hit me immediately that there was no negativity or drama from anyone—not because of the breakdown or the deer strike or us arriving with dinner on the later side—and some people would have had every right to be on edge. Yet everyone was happy. This crew has some serious positive energy, so there’s no better way to start a long (overdue) weekend than with an abundance of good vibes.
Now back to that rain. It was raining when we left the house and it was raining even harder 2.5 hours later when we arrived. It was supposed to have turned to snow by then. Uh-oh. And all night long, the rain beat down on the skylights—great for soothing, ambient noise to help me sleep, but not so great for the ice. We awoke to the news that Friday games were cancelled, and any disappointment was very short-lived (non-existent?). “Guess we’ll have to stay in and drink and play games.” 🤷♀️ It was our cross to bear and we were ready to carry it. Out came the Bailey’s and Prosecco and eventually the Guinness Nitro Coffee Cold Brew (delicious breakfast beer). After one wayward cork off the forehead (not mine) and a possible concussion, everyone agreed (easily and readily) that we were gonna suit up and head into town to check things out.
Off we went, pockets full of contraband (beers and Fireball nips) and walked the mile (on only-in-NH perfectly cleared sidewalks) into town, namely to the lakeside entertainment venue sponsored by Labatts—there was fantastic live music, we had our free beer tickets, and while the snow was coming down heavy and visibility was next to nothing, it wasn’t that cold and we were all together. The sanctity of the annual event was undisturbed.
After long enough we went back to the house for drinks, a concert, dinner, and general debauchery. (Yes, I did say “concert.” We’re fortunate to have an extremely talented musician in the ranks who broke out her acoustic guitar and encouraged singing along. (Pretty sure the only time I ever didn’t sing along to Galileo by the Indigo Girls was the first time I heard it and knew not a lyric—you don’t have to ask me twice to join in. In fact, you don’t even need to ask me once. I’m singing. Sorry not sorry.)
My low-battery light came on early so I executed a flawless Irish Exit and went to bed at a semi-respectable hour. I needed to be ready for the 8AM game on Saturday. What kind of Number 1 fan would I be if I slept in?
Anyway, after shutting it down early on Friday night, when the sun announced the dawn of Saturday through the bedroom’s skylights, I was rested and ready…and woke up to news that the whole tournament was cancelled. It wasn’t a shock—after having seen the conditions on Friday, it was no surprise that the crew couldn’t make a miracle overnight. You’d need a PhD to calculate exactly how much slush they would have to turn to glass, and another PhD to figure out how they’d do it. The decision to cancel was the right one—conditions were rough.
But here’s the thing—even so, there wasn’t a single negative anything out of anyone in the group when the news broke. No “poor us”. No “what are we gonna do?” A number of the group are busy working moms with busy kids, so it would have been completely and reasonably in the realm of possibility for one or more of them to maybe want to leave to go home to do whatever. But nope. Not one suggestion of anything other than making the most of it. The sun was shining and the morning was as cold as it was bright…so the only thing to do was to make sure the coffee pot was full and break out the Baileys (again), the Patron XO Cafe (learning that it has been discontinued caused the most drama of the weekend), and the Prosecco (again). (We went through a good half dozen bottles of sparkly stuff over the weekend and only an eyedropper full of orange juice—it was that kind of (perfect) mimosa crowd.) By that point pretty much everyone was into playing Wordle, so there was that and more music, and some discussion of what we might do later. (Also, if you were wondering, when playing in a crowd there is such a thing as Wordle etiquette, namely don’t talk about what letters you guessed or hold up your phone and show your progress (or lack thereof). So consider yourself warned/informed, if you’re in a crowd, playing Wordle, and you care. 🤣🤣🤣 I do not. I’m more of a Nerdle fan myself. But I thought I’d share a potentially helpful observation I made, seeing as the Wordle craze is in relative infancy.)
Come midday we agreed that the cold wasn’t going to stop us so we suited up and headed back down to the “Blue Zone” for more great live music, ice-cold Blue Lights, and general revelry. It was cold, but so what? Maria and Peter (top fans, but not #1, because that’s *my* job) drove in from Gilford and delivered a warmup in the form of The Thermos (full of Maria’s infamous hot cocoa), and hung out for a while. We learned of teams who packed up and left upon learning of the cancellation, and there was shared disbelief—how could they go home??? How could they leave this? How could they leave each other?
We were all got pretty cold we set out on the walk to the Airbnb to watch back-to-back live-streamed hockey games (one high school, one college), which is especially fun when you’re watching with the proud moms. Followed that up with dinner; music; smoked bourbon (another vice I don’t need, but oh my God is it exquisite); an attempt at Charades (yup, we managed to screw up Charades); and some side-splitting, cheek-busting, almost asthma-inducing laughter. Too late to bed but even so everyone was up and at it early on Sunday. No booze, all business, packed up, loaded out, and hugs all around before the 10AM checkout. Home by 11:30 and napping on the couch by 11:31.
I tell you all this because the weekend was an ultimate lesson in “attitude is everything.” There were many (many!) potential failure points in the chain of events, yet none of them was more than a short-term blip for this group. A couple of takeaways for me:
I feel blessed to have so many amazing people in my life in general, but am especially grateful for all of the supportive, smart, open-minded, welcoming, strong, fun, and funny women that have come into my life by way of Kerri. She’s the best, so I’m not the least bit surprised that she has such high-quality people in her circle…but I do not for one second take for granted how fortunate I am to be in overlapping orbits with them. They give my life a richness and depth and texture that helps me see so much more (so differently) than I would see on my own, that gives me so much more to build on and grow from. And they are so so so so so f-cking funny. If laughter is the best medicine, well, we’re definitely vaccinated against something after this weekend.
When life hands you lemons, this is the kind of crew you want with you. You drink the proverbial Kool-Aid they manage to make, and it’s a magic happy potion. (Or was that the Tito’s?) (I jest. I didn’t drink any vodka this weekend.) Everyone could benefit from such a lesson in making lemonade.
Remember to right size reactions to the thing, whatever the thing is…speed bumps and detours are no big deal as long as the journey continues. Don’t overreact or overdramatize or overestimate any imagined negative impact. Remember the 5x5 rule—if it won’t matter in 5 years, you don’t get more than 5 minutes to stress about it. The great thing about this group is it was more like .5 minutes of “stress.”
Oh, and as much as I’m a proponent of saying “yes,” remember that there’s a time and a place for “no.” Or you might end up coming home with more beer than you came with and a promise to host a pool party “soon.” 😂😂😂
What we left with (L) and what we came home with (R). (Who drinks Coors Light and is free this summer?)
The New England Pond Hockey Classic was cancelled. The classic weekend was not. And that’s what friends are for.
Thanks for reading and for being here. It means so much. So. Much.
Love you too.
I’ll send you out with this…and yeah, it’s a little sappy, but the world could use a little more sap. (Please don’t boycott me for not boycotting Spotify.)
Sounds like it was a great weekend despite no hockey. I smiled through your whole post and I sort of felt like I was there.
BTW, it was CHARADE...
Amazing recap. T-358 until next year!