But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated.
At Vilas Park last night I found myself in a terrific pick up game of rat hockey, and as is most often the case, I was the worst skater. I almost always get chased down on a breakaway, but I don’t fall anymore, unless I’m involved in an accidental body check. I would say I’m improving quickly – my confidence is up and I’m able to pass the puck adequately. We played for about an hour and while my team lost, both teams probably scored about 20 goals, 3 of which were mine. Yeah, I threw down a hat trick. I did get a nice cut on my right forearm from a hook/slash/high stick, but I like to think of it more so as a badge of honor. I woke up with a sore arm and hip from a crash along the boards, but my tenacity remains undefeated and I had a 3 point game (without counting my assists, which I assure you were numerous). Game on again tonight. I’ll probably still get smoked by the rest of the skaters, but I’m in it for the long haul.
If I see the kid that hooked me at the rink tonight I’m dropping the gloves.
. . .
Working late Saturday nights at Real Chili is such a blast – lots of fun to be had, loud music, and heavily tipping customers. Talking with all the drunks around 3am is always fun. This past Saturday night as it slowed down around 4am I chatted up a couple of grad students eating at the bar. He was dressed as a Dickens character – wool buttoned coat, black top hat, forest green vest, plaid pants, sensitive beard, etc. His girlfriend had a pretty straight up goth look going. I have my money on a Philosophy Masters candidates (or maybe English Lit.), in which case they will soon be cleaning grease traps on Saturday nights as well. She asked me where I bought my hat, to which I chuckled, Kohl’s. Cool, she replied, I really like the newsboy look and want to get one myself. I then told her I wore it more so out of a connection to being a near skinhead in the past and generally being into hardcore. Its an exaggeration and a bit of fib (in hindsight, I could have went SHARP if I had been surrounded by them at a certain short period of my life), but that’s part of the fun in talking with drunks late at night. Her face dropped like I just stabbed her dog and was laughing in her face. ‘You don’t still..roll that way, do you?’ I then realized immediately that for her skinhead = racist. I then went into a nickel explanation of how the majority of skins aren’t racist and that originally it was a non racist movement. She was genuinely interested to find this out and stated repeatedly that she didn’t know any of that. I concluded by stating that most skins may not be racist, but they still like to fight (mainly other skins). Just stay away from red suspenders and red laces, I advised. So there you go – educating the drunks on State street.