I think I see the light....

I do not want to get to ahead of myself here, but I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel (of recovery). This week I had planned on suiting up in full hockey gear and jumping into a few drills in practice. I wanted to start this on Monday, but for some reason when I went into my hockey bag, my jockstrap and garter belt were missing??? Honestly, who would steal that?

Anyways, so on Monday I skated in my "twist conditioning" track suit again and skated around in between drills. Tuesday there was a game, so I did not skate, then Wednesday was the big day...full equipment for the first time since I tried to practice in August, but basically since July. So with a new jockstrap, I got dressed, excited/nervous as I wondered how this would go. By the time I was fully dressed, I realized that I had no helmet. Our helmets were taken after Tuesday's game to get the new sponsors put on them. So there I am, in full hockey gear, all I wanted to do was get out there on the ice, this how been since August, and I sit there with no helmet. Not to be defeated this easily, I go search for a helmet and come accross an old white CCM helmet with a visor. We all know you don't put a visor on these old CCM buckets, though a few names do ring a bell... Guy Carbonneau, Stephan Lebeau from the 93 Habs Cup winning team!



Stephan Lebeau sporting the CCM Helmet with a visor


Where was I? Oh ya, so I find this helmet, give it a quick rinse as it smelled of Ricard, and head out onto the ice. So I am happy to be out there, but still do not feel complete just yet with this foreign bucket on my head, reeking of French Alcohol.




All things aside, I step out onto the ice and feel.......heavy. I felt so heavy, my knee felt ok, but I felt so amazingly slow. My roommate Loic Lacasse (goalie) just received his new pads, so he was out there too. Our feelings were parallel. He felt bulky and slow, as he was not only testing out new pads, blocker and trapper, but also a new chest protector (I think he refers to it as Plastron in Quebecois). All in all, the first day was a success and a necessary step to making regular appearances on the ice for practice. And just as I suspected, Thursday I had my new helmet, covered in sponsorships from a heating company to a night club, and with a small modification made to my shin pads, I felt pretty good, taking part in all but the contact drills. To bring it up a notch, last night was even better, as was present in all drills, of course a step behind, but I felt good enough to handle some 2 on 1 drills, breakouts and regroups.

With this weekend off from the ice, I will make sure to get my bike sprints in at the gym and a few workouts, to ensure that come Monday evening, I am going to be even stronger!

Before signing off here, on an unrelated note, I must acknowledge my very talented and gifted father Marty Gervais. Last night in Windsor, Ontario my father received an honorary Doctorate from Assumption University. My Dad, who I now refer to as Dr. Dad, is an instructor at the University of Windsor, he is a newspaper columnist, the founded Black Moss Press, a publishing firm and an avid hockey fan. He loves the Montreal Canadiens, Epinal Dauphins (Me) , Chicago Hitmen (brother Gabe's team) and Team Orange (older brother Andre's beer league team).

I am totally kidding about Andre's team, in a recent post I wrote how Andre played pro hockey, so he is a good player ;)

Though, "Dr. Dad" does share his passion of hockey with his 3 sons, he is known more for his writing and poetry. Below is a poem my father wrote while he was in the hospital when I was playing junior hockey in Canada for the Leamington Flyers. I love you dad, congratulations!!!

The Angel At My Bedside

for Stéphane

The pain tightens in my gut

I can’t sleep

my eyes are shut

I hear someone stir

believe it’s the man

in the bed across the room

stare into the darkness—

A dark figure looms

tall and lean poised

at the foot of my bed

Is this the angel of death?

I muse, but look closer

Make out red stitching

on a black jacket

Notice the letters Flyers

my 6 ft. son hovering

over my bed, whispering

something before placing

a cold puck into my right hand —

“A hat trick tonight, dad!”

I smile and place the puck

on the pillow beside me

and fall into a dream

of a boyhood in a city

up north when my body

moved with strength

and readiness on the ice

or so I believed

and believe now

again

poem from Taking My Blood

http://web.mac.com/martygervaisis/Site/Marty_Gervais,_Writer.html