Broombastic
Oh, GOD.
I am so incredibly out of shape.
So I, ya know... don't work out. This guy at work has been bugging me to come out to play broomball at his house every week, so I finally clear out my crazy ridiculous schedule (ha!), stay at work an extra hour or two and head on over to his place (Not before inhaling a Big Mac, mind you... figured that I could use a little grease to keep me warm since I only had a jacket and no hat/mitts/etc.). This guy (who I video/photographed at his wedding recently) has a very nice house on a lake out in the western metro and jokes that, as his dowry, he received a four wheeler which he calls his Zamboni. It turns out that he has crafted two rinks very well with it behind his place: one for skating, and one for broomball. The broomball rink was all lit up and ready to smack the ol' uhhh... ball around.
Broomball is an interesting sport that I've never actually seen before, despite my Minnesotaness. It is sort of like hockey, but uses no skates or pucks. Instead, you just use shoes, a soccer-like ball and "brooms" that are aluminum poles with rubber nubs at the end. (In the old days, you'd take a regular broom, dunk it in a bucket of water and wait for it to freeze to get a heavy, blunt object before taking the ice) You just jack the ball around and try to get it into the opponents' net.
So to begin, I sampled all the home-brews and was granted an extra pair of gloves and a newsies-esque hat and we headed down there. We played 3 on 2 (I was in the 2), and it was actually a lot of fun!
Except for the fact that everytime I stopped, I felt like I was going to vomit all over the ice. Uuuugggghhhh. I haven't felt so out of shape since high school cross country. Seriously... I was fighting back bile and sweating profusely.
Anyway, afterwards, we had a couple brews and called it a night. I could not lift the bottle to my face. My arms are cooked. Nothing left. I'm such a freakin' wimp. Typing is haaaard.
The ride home was very pleasant, despite my inability to turn the steering wheel... 394 is a cool drive with a nice view of the skyline.
Anyway, a quick recap: 2 years of no more exercise than a quick sprint to grab an ice cream Snickers bar in the freezer + no experience playing broomball + 20 degree weather + McDonald's + beer + ice = Nips can't move his arms anymore, nearly vomited, walks bow-legged, and had a great time.
Awesome.
---
Addendum:
Upon readying himself for nocturnal R&R, your humble writer noticed that his face was reddened and painful. It took a moment for him to realize that this was the direct result of having been smashed right in the face by a high speed broomball ball.
I am so incredibly out of shape.
So I, ya know... don't work out. This guy at work has been bugging me to come out to play broomball at his house every week, so I finally clear out my crazy ridiculous schedule (ha!), stay at work an extra hour or two and head on over to his place (Not before inhaling a Big Mac, mind you... figured that I could use a little grease to keep me warm since I only had a jacket and no hat/mitts/etc.). This guy (who I video/photographed at his wedding recently) has a very nice house on a lake out in the western metro and jokes that, as his dowry, he received a four wheeler which he calls his Zamboni. It turns out that he has crafted two rinks very well with it behind his place: one for skating, and one for broomball. The broomball rink was all lit up and ready to smack the ol' uhhh... ball around.
Broomball is an interesting sport that I've never actually seen before, despite my Minnesotaness. It is sort of like hockey, but uses no skates or pucks. Instead, you just use shoes, a soccer-like ball and "brooms" that are aluminum poles with rubber nubs at the end. (In the old days, you'd take a regular broom, dunk it in a bucket of water and wait for it to freeze to get a heavy, blunt object before taking the ice) You just jack the ball around and try to get it into the opponents' net.
So to begin, I sampled all the home-brews and was granted an extra pair of gloves and a newsies-esque hat and we headed down there. We played 3 on 2 (I was in the 2), and it was actually a lot of fun!
Except for the fact that everytime I stopped, I felt like I was going to vomit all over the ice. Uuuugggghhhh. I haven't felt so out of shape since high school cross country. Seriously... I was fighting back bile and sweating profusely.
Anyway, afterwards, we had a couple brews and called it a night. I could not lift the bottle to my face. My arms are cooked. Nothing left. I'm such a freakin' wimp. Typing is haaaard.
The ride home was very pleasant, despite my inability to turn the steering wheel... 394 is a cool drive with a nice view of the skyline.
Anyway, a quick recap: 2 years of no more exercise than a quick sprint to grab an ice cream Snickers bar in the freezer + no experience playing broomball + 20 degree weather + McDonald's + beer + ice = Nips can't move his arms anymore, nearly vomited, walks bow-legged, and had a great time.
Awesome.
---
Addendum:
Upon readying himself for nocturnal R&R, your humble writer noticed that his face was reddened and painful. It took a moment for him to realize that this was the direct result of having been smashed right in the face by a high speed broomball ball.
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