Fractured ribs. This is my second substantial hockey injury (the first was taking a stick through my upper lip attempting to block a shot on my elementary school’s outdoor rink – lots of stitches), and it came during warm-up. This is what bad (read: soft) ice can do to players.

I’ve been playing with the injury for two weeks now; apparently that could have seriously increased my chances of pneumonia.

No hockey for at least 3 weeks. Doctor’s orders.

…is good news.

No updates recently, as I’ve been tremendously busy recently, which means that life is progressing nicely. It’s perhaps needless to say, but hockey has a near monopoly on my minutes these days.

Having accepted the fact that my knees won’t magically get better by not playing (the choice is thus: play, and experience pain, OR not play, and experience pain anyway), I’ve got two weekly playing sessions – shinny on Mondays; full-gear on Fridays. I can’t really express how nice it is to be skating regularly again.

Apart from that, and equally if not more importantly, I’m working with the University of Ottawa team this year. Formally I hold the position of Community Development; informally I’m breaking down video for the team (focusing mainly on the penalty kill) and doing some advance scouting. You can also find me occasionally repairing equipment and manning the DVD-recording station at home games.

Finally, things are starting to ramp up for the World Junior Championship, to be held here in Ottawa over the Christmas break. The Volunteer Orientation session was held this past Saturday. I’ll be working Team Services (equipment repairs, etc.).

I need to be reminded on occasion that I’m also supposed to be writing a thesis.

Visualization of the articles (Canadian Newspapers) database that forms part of my thesis research (via Wordle). The larger words are those that appear most frequently in the article titles.

Dealing for Tanguay. 20 July 2008. Scotiabank Place. One of the highlights of a very busy, and consequently very long, first round.

Posing for custom hockey cards with thanks to Upper Deck. 21 July 2008. A few minutes after stopping Danny Kristo in the corridor and welcoming him to the family.

I currently lack anything profound to say, but I do feel the need to express my extreme jealousy over a friend’s trip to Mozambique. He seems so carefree in his travel planning – wandering around the world at his own pace, checking off continents from a to-do list (I’ve already got Africa, having boated over from Spain during my undergraduate years).

In Cuba he wound up playing stickball with local children. In one of the European countries ending with ‘A’ (maybe Croatia, maybe Slovakia, maybe even Slovenia – the point is, he’s been enough places that it’s easy to forget the details) he got ridiculously smashed at a local pub on dollar pints – not a revelatory experience, but he sure made it sound colourful.

Maybe it’s just the way he writes (unfortunately he’s deleted the earliest entries from his travel weblog, citing poor writing), but everything always seems so fantastic.

Or maybe it’s just that I don’t appreciate the things I’ve done and need to stop using words like “jealousy.” I once had an anonymous comment left on my Facebook profile that read: “I’m secretly jealous/impressed by all the things you’ve done in your lifetime.”

In any event, while he’s off galavanting overseas, I’ve got priority seating for the NHL Entry Draft in two weeks.

Photo © SuperTopher.

For as much as the Washington Capitals have struggled over the past decade, there are certain things that they’ve done right.

I spent much of last week in the Washington, DC area, tagging along on Elly’s business trip to Arlington. We were staying at a hotel near the Ballston Metro and to amuse myself while Elly was in meetings I wandered the neighbourhood.

Fortunately for this stereotypical Canadian boy, the Capitals operate a practice facility/public rink (the Kettler Iceplex) just a few blocks away from the hotel. …so I played the role of a rinkrat for much of my spare time. Waking up early for a $1 morning skate (skates included) one day, watching USA Hockey operate a clinic for young prospects the next.

Even apart from the ridiculously cheap skating (and in May no less!), the facility really is something to be admired. Two ice surfaces. Located at the top of a parking garage (which means ample parking, though perhaps awkward pedestrian access and signage). A Capitals team store that almost had me buying a T-shirt with Cyrillic characters.

To top it off, though the team was out of the playoffs by just a few days, most of the Capitals’ practices are open to the public, which is fantastic for team-fan relations.

Snow in April. 2008 Gatineau Park. One week later and it’s 26ºC out.

Elly and I had the good fortune of seeing Gordon Lightfoot perform at the National Arts Centre last night (thanks to John and Maria who stumbled into 4 tickets).

We both grew up listening to Lightfoot due to his being incredibly popular during our parents’ college years. My father’s record collection was the most readily available source at my disposal when I was first getting into music, and so I’d sit in the living room listening to Lightfoot and Kris Kristofferson during my early Yellowknife years. Elly on the other hand used to listen to Lightfoot as bedtime music, and so her experience at the concert was a little confusing – trying to stay awake though her default behaviour was to fall asleep.

The concert itself was nice. We had excellent seats (eighth row center); the sound quality was amazing (I should expect nothing less from the “National Arts Centre” I suppose); it wasn’t exhaustingly long; we enjoyed a nice walk home across the Alexandra Bridge in the still-warm night air.

Gord himself looks to have been stricken by the hands of time – though he had ample energy and carried his guitar just about perfectly, he looked frail and even somewhat arthritic. Considering he turns 70 this year and in recent years has endured health scares, maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised. Still, it’s a little sad to see someone who was the definition of strong and handsome reduced to a wiry, graying figure.

It’s not a big step, but it is a step in the right direction… I have agreed to serve as a researcher for a series of articles on the economics of sport for the MSN/Sympatico website. I’ll be working alongside Paul Rivard (a regular on TQS) developing ideas for columns and gathering basic data to support those ideas.

For now it’ll be a monthly column (and in French, by the way), which means it won’t be a ton of work coming my way, but it will be a nice distraction (divertissement would be a better word, but there’s no true English equiv.) from the thesis and something to include on my CV.

The first column will be on the subject of hockey (it is playoff time after all).

Update: The column unfortunately looks like a no-go.

Urban Spring is hardly beautiful. Tree branches are bare. Melting snow reveals discarded cigarettes and litter. The last of the snow is covered in a gritty yet tarry slick of road gravel dust and the most minute of particles from the exhaust of passing vehicles.

All is not lost though, for I find the small streams created by the melt to be utterly charming. Water rippling down from that snow, onto a sidewalk or road, building into a larger, yet still tiny, torrent. Though it lacks the purity of a similar scene in a pristine mountain forest, the sight of it does offer a moment of simplicity in an otherwise hectic day.

As a young boy [Ed. note: That sounds so quaint] I would create series of waterworks for the streams using sticks, stones, and whatever else I could find. I had a fascination with the hydraulics of it all – the water typically finding a way to escape my best laid plans, requiring further levees, further sticks and stones. There was an art to it – by controlling the water you could control the erosion of the soils, patterning the ground so that on dry days you might find your design still in the mud.