Hockey Fandom nowhere near the Ice.
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
I have lived in Kentucky all of my life. Back when I was six, youth soccer was making it's big impression on middle-america. I joined up and played for three years. Really that was the extent of my participation in sports. Growing up I was not encouraged to get into sports. I tried Basketball, but I hated using my hands. Really, I would try to make a basket off my head. Later I found that the Mayans lived and died this way.
Natural ice forms here in the K-Y about once a winter. For about 2 days. Lately I either work, or just can't quite make it to the Ohio. That was when I lived in Northern Kentucky. I have moved to Lexington and I know of one little pond that will freeze up on a fairly consistent basis.
Actually, let us flashback a few years ago. I sit here and write this in 2000. I am going back to 1992. When Hockey fandom took me over.
I was living in Ft. Thomas, Ky. a suburb of Cincinnati, Oh. I shared a little run down apartment with 2 other poor college-student types (only we weren't in college). We were all 21 years old.
First off there was me. But why talk about me. Let's talk about Puck.
Puck was my best friend going on six years. We shared a love of comic books, role-playing games, and the same girlfriend just a few short years ago. Puck was one of the best male-friends I ever had. We could talk about anything and totally trusted one another. It feels weird that we have drifted apart over the years. As far as I know, he still lives up north from me. We drifted just a little in '95. But life with marriage, children and full time jobs, put us even furter apart. I haven't heard from him in about two years.
Next up is Darren. He and I had worked togethor at a movie theatre in Florence, Ky. We both shared the same things that Puck and I shared. Comics, RPGs, and a wacked out sense of humor. He got to know Puck thru me, and soon we were hanging out at the local 24-hour coffee/pancake house, Perkins. Good times, late at night for us teenagers.
We had the usual crowd of half-sane hangers on. Greg Trauth, was the happy go lucky jock wierdo partier. Greg Little was the computer geek. He could master the complexities of any Sega game we played; and more on that later. We had Justin, the Stipean musician but a little more outgoing. There were more. But this crowd of suspects were the hardest bitten. By what? The hockey bug.
As I said, we lived in a crappy little two-bedroom apt. Ugly carpet, paint peeling off the walls, windows cracked, and a bathroom that made you wonder just how hardy mildew is.
We were lazy, and crazy. Both Puck and I worked for Perkins at the time on third shift on weekends and days during the week. Darren worked at the little bistro, the Aurora Cafe, in the building next to ours. Justin lived in a block of apts behind us with his band. Everyone else just drifted in and out of our place day in, night out.
We drank beer, we listened to real alternative music (back then, before it became alterna-pop), and we played Sega.
Before I moved in, Puck and Darren had another roommate. Rob. For three months straight Rob didn't pay rent. Or utilities. Was never really there, unless he wanted to throw a party. They were good parties mind you, but Puck would always ask how he got the money for a keg, but not for rent. Or how he got the money for a new Sega Genesis and a half-donzen game carts, but not rent. After a while it got old.
So Rob was thrown out. Literally. Puck just left his stuff in boxes out on the curb, in downtown Ft. Thomas (a small town, but still his stuff was out cold). The next day (for weeks previous we discussed me moving in, Puck just had to get rid of Rob), I was in. I paid for my share of the rent and utilities up front.
One thing Puck kept of Rob's was his Sega. Just rewards he called it.
There, Genesis. Figurativly and literally. Amongst the carts where: Madden 92, Fifa Soccer 90, Sonics 1 and 2, a basketball game, a few other sidescrolling adventure platforms, and EA Sports NHL 91.
It just got to us. Like I said, I never really got into sports. Justin wasn't, neither was Darren. Some Sundays, Puck and the Gregs would watch football. And MNF was usually on that paticular day of the week. Me, I had my comics, my rpgs, and my new interest in Wicca. That NHL cart would really get me.
We just started messing around with it.
The guys that really got involved in it were me, Puck, the Gregs, Darren, and Justin. The game cart had all the current teams for that year. It had them rated, scaled one to ten. Four teams were rated with nines, none had ten. The Washington Capitals, The L.A. Kings, The Chicago Blackhawks, and the Vancouver Canucks. The five of us just picked teams. I can't remember after all these years, but Greg Little picked The Buffalo Sabres, rated eight. I got the Caps, Puck the Canucks, Greg Trauth the Hawks, Darren got the Penguins, and Justin grabbed the Kings. From then it was game on.
I have alot of great memories of those days. The night that Trauth and I played a Finals game til 4 in the morning. Setting up the virtual regular season with Puck. The night we raided the local sports bar and hogged the big screen when Gretzky's Kings played the Canucks. And many more.
That year Justin coached his Kings to the Stanley Cup. He beat the computer whiz, Greg Little and his Sabres.
And we didn't just play on Sega. That year the Cincinatti Cyclones went from the East Coast Hockey Leauge to the IHL. So we got to go to a few 'Clones games at the Cincinatti Gardens.
That Christmas we all got jerseys of our teams.
We were nuts about this new thing.
Our apt didn't have cable, heck, we didn't have a phone. So we kept up with the hockey world day-to-day via USA Today.
But times do change. We all drift our seperate way. We were young, it happens.
I moved out after the hockey season ended in June. Puck moved out soon after. Justin's band broke up in there somewhere, and he moved in with Darren. A few years past. Most of us kept up with our teams.
I lost loyalty to the Caps. I looked around for a new team to throw my hat into. Puck suggested looking at the Winnepeg Jets, they had a great new winger, Keith Tkachuk, that was up and coming. So, I looked at the Jets, and followed them when they became the Coyotes of Phoenix.
But before that all happened, we played hockey.
Justin got a pair of roller blades a stick and a few roller pucks. Then I did the same. Greg Little followed, then Matt ( who drifted in from Boston, brought us some fandom from there ). We bullied Darren into being our goalie based on the fact that he couldn't skate. Soon we were shooting pucks at a hapless and sometimes drunk Darren (it became his paticluar goaltending pre-practice tradition to down two shots of Dark Eyes Vodka, chilled). Come to think of it, he really wasn't drunk, just gave him a shot of courage. Then Justin got the idea to enter us into a leauge.
This leauge consited of five teams, and we played on blacktop at Lunken Airfield outside of the city. We didn't know much going in. We just winged it. Just wanted to have some fun.
We practiced every night for 2 weeks straight before our first game. It was great on that tennis court in late mos. of winter. Slightly chilly at night, and dry. The net was taken of, and no one else played down there. Justin had found a book on drills at our local library, which he rollerbladed too religously. He was our coach, and our artist. Hane's brand Beefy tees and colored markers. He drew our Ft. Thomas Phantoms logo on 10 seperate shirts. Then he put our last names and chosen numbers on them. He used a design that ripped off Freddy Kruger for the logo, and the numbers and letters we taken freehand from a book on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Most, if not all of our equipment was bought from K-Mart or Wal-Mart's sporting goods. Franklin sticks and pad. I springed for a pair of 100 dollar Rollerblade brand in-lines. We all chipped in on Darrens knee pads. He had a old hokey mask, a catcher mitt, and a catchers chest gaurd for protection. We were ragtag.
The first team we played out at Lunken, showed up in a white Range Rover with a plastic decal of the team logo on its side doors. We wathced in disbelief as the pulled up. Five very well groomed gentlemen stepped out, each with a Koho skate bag. I remember on guy had not one, but two CCM sticks. They all wore 300 dollar Bauer in-lines. All of our equipment cost less than one of those CCMs. They took one look at us, and told us to get of the blacktop. They were waiting for thier challangers, the Ft. Thomas Phantoms. We told them who we were. One of them coughed back a guffaw.
Natural ice forms here in the K-Y about once a winter. For about 2 days. Lately I either work, or just can't quite make it to the Ohio. That was when I lived in Northern Kentucky. I have moved to Lexington and I know of one little pond that will freeze up on a fairly consistent basis.
Actually, let us flashback a few years ago. I sit here and write this in 2000. I am going back to 1992. When Hockey fandom took me over.
I was living in Ft. Thomas, Ky. a suburb of Cincinnati, Oh. I shared a little run down apartment with 2 other poor college-student types (only we weren't in college). We were all 21 years old.
First off there was me. But why talk about me. Let's talk about Puck.
Puck was my best friend going on six years. We shared a love of comic books, role-playing games, and the same girlfriend just a few short years ago. Puck was one of the best male-friends I ever had. We could talk about anything and totally trusted one another. It feels weird that we have drifted apart over the years. As far as I know, he still lives up north from me. We drifted just a little in '95. But life with marriage, children and full time jobs, put us even furter apart. I haven't heard from him in about two years.
Next up is Darren. He and I had worked togethor at a movie theatre in Florence, Ky. We both shared the same things that Puck and I shared. Comics, RPGs, and a wacked out sense of humor. He got to know Puck thru me, and soon we were hanging out at the local 24-hour coffee/pancake house, Perkins. Good times, late at night for us teenagers.
We had the usual crowd of half-sane hangers on. Greg Trauth, was the happy go lucky jock wierdo partier. Greg Little was the computer geek. He could master the complexities of any Sega game we played; and more on that later. We had Justin, the Stipean musician but a little more outgoing. There were more. But this crowd of suspects were the hardest bitten. By what? The hockey bug.
As I said, we lived in a crappy little two-bedroom apt. Ugly carpet, paint peeling off the walls, windows cracked, and a bathroom that made you wonder just how hardy mildew is.
We were lazy, and crazy. Both Puck and I worked for Perkins at the time on third shift on weekends and days during the week. Darren worked at the little bistro, the Aurora Cafe, in the building next to ours. Justin lived in a block of apts behind us with his band. Everyone else just drifted in and out of our place day in, night out.
We drank beer, we listened to real alternative music (back then, before it became alterna-pop), and we played Sega.
Before I moved in, Puck and Darren had another roommate. Rob. For three months straight Rob didn't pay rent. Or utilities. Was never really there, unless he wanted to throw a party. They were good parties mind you, but Puck would always ask how he got the money for a keg, but not for rent. Or how he got the money for a new Sega Genesis and a half-donzen game carts, but not rent. After a while it got old.
So Rob was thrown out. Literally. Puck just left his stuff in boxes out on the curb, in downtown Ft. Thomas (a small town, but still his stuff was out cold). The next day (for weeks previous we discussed me moving in, Puck just had to get rid of Rob), I was in. I paid for my share of the rent and utilities up front.
One thing Puck kept of Rob's was his Sega. Just rewards he called it.
There, Genesis. Figurativly and literally. Amongst the carts where: Madden 92, Fifa Soccer 90, Sonics 1 and 2, a basketball game, a few other sidescrolling adventure platforms, and EA Sports NHL 91.
It just got to us. Like I said, I never really got into sports. Justin wasn't, neither was Darren. Some Sundays, Puck and the Gregs would watch football. And MNF was usually on that paticular day of the week. Me, I had my comics, my rpgs, and my new interest in Wicca. That NHL cart would really get me.
We just started messing around with it.
The guys that really got involved in it were me, Puck, the Gregs, Darren, and Justin. The game cart had all the current teams for that year. It had them rated, scaled one to ten. Four teams were rated with nines, none had ten. The Washington Capitals, The L.A. Kings, The Chicago Blackhawks, and the Vancouver Canucks. The five of us just picked teams. I can't remember after all these years, but Greg Little picked The Buffalo Sabres, rated eight. I got the Caps, Puck the Canucks, Greg Trauth the Hawks, Darren got the Penguins, and Justin grabbed the Kings. From then it was game on.
I have alot of great memories of those days. The night that Trauth and I played a Finals game til 4 in the morning. Setting up the virtual regular season with Puck. The night we raided the local sports bar and hogged the big screen when Gretzky's Kings played the Canucks. And many more.
That year Justin coached his Kings to the Stanley Cup. He beat the computer whiz, Greg Little and his Sabres.
And we didn't just play on Sega. That year the Cincinatti Cyclones went from the East Coast Hockey Leauge to the IHL. So we got to go to a few 'Clones games at the Cincinatti Gardens.
That Christmas we all got jerseys of our teams.
We were nuts about this new thing.
Our apt didn't have cable, heck, we didn't have a phone. So we kept up with the hockey world day-to-day via USA Today.
But times do change. We all drift our seperate way. We were young, it happens.
I moved out after the hockey season ended in June. Puck moved out soon after. Justin's band broke up in there somewhere, and he moved in with Darren. A few years past. Most of us kept up with our teams.
I lost loyalty to the Caps. I looked around for a new team to throw my hat into. Puck suggested looking at the Winnepeg Jets, they had a great new winger, Keith Tkachuk, that was up and coming. So, I looked at the Jets, and followed them when they became the Coyotes of Phoenix.
But before that all happened, we played hockey.
Justin got a pair of roller blades a stick and a few roller pucks. Then I did the same. Greg Little followed, then Matt ( who drifted in from Boston, brought us some fandom from there ). We bullied Darren into being our goalie based on the fact that he couldn't skate. Soon we were shooting pucks at a hapless and sometimes drunk Darren (it became his paticluar goaltending pre-practice tradition to down two shots of Dark Eyes Vodka, chilled). Come to think of it, he really wasn't drunk, just gave him a shot of courage. Then Justin got the idea to enter us into a leauge.
This leauge consited of five teams, and we played on blacktop at Lunken Airfield outside of the city. We didn't know much going in. We just winged it. Just wanted to have some fun.
We practiced every night for 2 weeks straight before our first game. It was great on that tennis court in late mos. of winter. Slightly chilly at night, and dry. The net was taken of, and no one else played down there. Justin had found a book on drills at our local library, which he rollerbladed too religously. He was our coach, and our artist. Hane's brand Beefy tees and colored markers. He drew our Ft. Thomas Phantoms logo on 10 seperate shirts. Then he put our last names and chosen numbers on them. He used a design that ripped off Freddy Kruger for the logo, and the numbers and letters we taken freehand from a book on The Nightmare Before Christmas. Most, if not all of our equipment was bought from K-Mart or Wal-Mart's sporting goods. Franklin sticks and pad. I springed for a pair of 100 dollar Rollerblade brand in-lines. We all chipped in on Darrens knee pads. He had a old hokey mask, a catcher mitt, and a catchers chest gaurd for protection. We were ragtag.
The first team we played out at Lunken, showed up in a white Range Rover with a plastic decal of the team logo on its side doors. We wathced in disbelief as the pulled up. Five very well groomed gentlemen stepped out, each with a Koho skate bag. I remember on guy had not one, but two CCM sticks. They all wore 300 dollar Bauer in-lines. All of our equipment cost less than one of those CCMs. They took one look at us, and told us to get of the blacktop. They were waiting for thier challangers, the Ft. Thomas Phantoms. We told them who we were. One of them coughed back a guffaw.
