Remember watching intense high school hockey games and noticing rambunctious kids either sneaking or sprinting around in the woods? Or maybe you recall that it was once you? I do, and yes, I was one of them. As junior high tumbled past, I quickly realized that soon I would no longer throw snowballs at immature boys, but would instead be pummeled myself with dull skates and too small of gear on to “protect” me. Eighth grade year I said goodbye to soaked snow pants and gloves, awesome forts, and boys who flirted with snowballs, but I never forgot the hilarious memories I made.
For starters, and in no particular order, I remember my most remarkable fort. During a hockey game Kristi, Tessa, Alexis, and I were trying to find a hideout where the boys wouldn’t spot us. Someone scouted out a fallen tree a little ways behind the elementary hockey shed. We made two doors, cleaned out the inside, laid tree branches on the outside, and covered it all with snow. It was perfect and cozy, and what we thought was camouflaged. We later discovered that it wasn’t. I recall walking away from our fort, memorizing the path so we could always find our fallen spruce, and seeing a broken chair in a tree. We were confused but continued walking. Later, we made our way back, passing the chair suspended in the willow tree, and came upon our fort. I remember how our eyes widened and our mouths fell agape. “The boy’s” was all we could think to say, for the coolest fort was destroyed. I have yet to find out who exactly did it.
Another distinct memory is one that has a few different versions. Starting with the correct one, or otherwise named, mine. After the buzzer rang signaling the end of a period, I walked behind the guest hockey shed only to be unexpectedly attacked by Riley. He chucked a stick at me, and his aim was true for it hit me in the face. My wound began to bleed and before I knew it, Alexis jumped out of nowhere, knocked him down, and gave him a white wash. He ran off crying. According to Riley, I threw a snowball at him first and he threw a “little twig” back. Alexis did white wash him, but supposedly he didn’t run off crying, if you can believe that.
As I mentioned before, in eighth grade I began to look forward to high school hockey games, but for a whole different reason than before. I watched almost every hockey game, but from a different perspective than everyone else. Alexis and I took refuge in a tree, with the perfect view of the rink, minus one corner. We snapped off branches, broke twigs, and found a different way to enjoy watching hockey. I remember hiding from people we didn’t want to hang out with, as typical junior high kids would. I also recall the time when Riley and Trayl tried to take our tree over, but from the beginning that didn’t bode well for them.
Before I knew it, 9th grade slammed into me at full force taking me by complete surprise. Or was that an overlarge hockey player? I don’t remember. But along with high school comes high school hockey. Along with high school hockey comes bruises, pain, and sore muscles. Although I can tell you now that all the comments of being a wimp was well worth it, for I survived my first high-school hockey season with four goals, numerous assists, and amazingly, no penalties. I hadn’t realized the importance of going to State after play-offs until now, especially since Kenny Lake hasn’t gone in four years. I am looking forward to next year, hoping Kenny Lake has a team. I’ll miss this year’s seniors and would welcome the upcoming freshman, but unfortunately there won’t be any. Lucky me, I’ll get two years of doing everything the rest of the team is too lazy to do, or Alexis and I will just make Riley and Trayl do everything.
For starters, and in no particular order, I remember my most remarkable fort. During a hockey game Kristi, Tessa, Alexis, and I were trying to find a hideout where the boys wouldn’t spot us. Someone scouted out a fallen tree a little ways behind the elementary hockey shed. We made two doors, cleaned out the inside, laid tree branches on the outside, and covered it all with snow. It was perfect and cozy, and what we thought was camouflaged. We later discovered that it wasn’t. I recall walking away from our fort, memorizing the path so we could always find our fallen spruce, and seeing a broken chair in a tree. We were confused but continued walking. Later, we made our way back, passing the chair suspended in the willow tree, and came upon our fort. I remember how our eyes widened and our mouths fell agape. “The boy’s” was all we could think to say, for the coolest fort was destroyed. I have yet to find out who exactly did it.
Another distinct memory is one that has a few different versions. Starting with the correct one, or otherwise named, mine. After the buzzer rang signaling the end of a period, I walked behind the guest hockey shed only to be unexpectedly attacked by Riley. He chucked a stick at me, and his aim was true for it hit me in the face. My wound began to bleed and before I knew it, Alexis jumped out of nowhere, knocked him down, and gave him a white wash. He ran off crying. According to Riley, I threw a snowball at him first and he threw a “little twig” back. Alexis did white wash him, but supposedly he didn’t run off crying, if you can believe that.
As I mentioned before, in eighth grade I began to look forward to high school hockey games, but for a whole different reason than before. I watched almost every hockey game, but from a different perspective than everyone else. Alexis and I took refuge in a tree, with the perfect view of the rink, minus one corner. We snapped off branches, broke twigs, and found a different way to enjoy watching hockey. I remember hiding from people we didn’t want to hang out with, as typical junior high kids would. I also recall the time when Riley and Trayl tried to take our tree over, but from the beginning that didn’t bode well for them.
Before I knew it, 9th grade slammed into me at full force taking me by complete surprise. Or was that an overlarge hockey player? I don’t remember. But along with high school comes high school hockey. Along with high school hockey comes bruises, pain, and sore muscles. Although I can tell you now that all the comments of being a wimp was well worth it, for I survived my first high-school hockey season with four goals, numerous assists, and amazingly, no penalties. I hadn’t realized the importance of going to State after play-offs until now, especially since Kenny Lake hasn’t gone in four years. I am looking forward to next year, hoping Kenny Lake has a team. I’ll miss this year’s seniors and would welcome the upcoming freshman, but unfortunately there won’t be any. Lucky me, I’ll get two years of doing everything the rest of the team is too lazy to do, or Alexis and I will just make Riley and Trayl do everything.
