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Farewell, Braydon

April 5th, 2005

The Winterhawks lost tonight, 3-2 against the Everett Silvertips, in case anyone was wondering. It is a dark, bleak evening over here at Wacky Hockey House.

My marriage wasn’t in trouble, OK, so calm down for the love of God. We were just bugging and irritating each other in that way you do after you’ve been married a few years. “I said I would, so I will, OK? Did you tape The Simpsons or not?” etc.

We decided we needed to work out more — a few extra pounds were creeping on, what with all those Simpsons re-runs. “I never lost the weight after the FIRST baby!” was Wacky Daddy’s lament after we found out I was That Way again. But what to do? Gyms? No, too lazy. Running? My right knee is toast. And WD isn’t a running guy, anyway. Swimming? I love to swim, he does not.

Yoga? Yes for me, no for him. I know this all sounds co-dependent and stupid, but goddammit, it’s funner to work out with someone. Hiking? Sure, when it’s not raining. Rock climbing? Backpacking? Ha! Ha! Is there a cabana boy I can beckon? No? Then no.

We wanted something to do together that didn’t involve mosquitoes or ab crunches. Rollerskating? That was WD’s suggestion. I have flippin’ hated rollerskating ever since Crack the Whip (with me at the end of the line, natch) turned into Crack My Head Open when I was 12.

Finally — ding ding ding! A winner: Ice skating! We had been together almost seven years when we realized we both love to ice skate. We bought each other skates for Christmas (I love my Jacksons they RULE they are the best skates in all the land. He got tough hockey skates, Bauers, and they are righteous) and off we glided. Then WD thought he’d maybe take up hockey, since he already had the badass skates and all. Bought the gear, started going out to the rink, and next thing you know he’s playing pick-up games three times a week and he’s not getting on my g.d. nerves with all this restless energy.

And he’s lost the baby weight! (I cannot say the same, dear reader.)

I’m doing yoga, and going for walks, and skating sometimes, too. WD is still liking hockey and we’ve been having fun taking the kids to Winterhawks games all year. Best of all — Very Important Player Braydon Coburn, an NHL pick who’s signed with the Atlanta Thrashers, is our guy. At training camp last summer he gave his broken stick to Wacky Boy. WB was speechless and amazed to see this huge 6’5″ player, who is even taller with his badass skates on, towering over him and handing him his stick. He even signed it for him, with #27 on there for all eternity. Yes we built a shrine to Braydon in WB’s room, we’re that nuts.

The season ended tonight, Braydon is off to the big time next season (if the NHL ever gets their act together, hullo? They will) and it’s Portland’s loss. He’s a big honey and we love him, especially the smaller dude in the family.

Hockey good.

1 Comment

  1. Homie's Mom says

    Dear Wacky Mommy,
    Please help me with this interesting dilemma. My son who is almost 10 has started to feel very comfortable lounging around in his underwear . . . way to comfortable. Neither my husband or myself has done anything to instigate this behavior. We remain fully clad while we are awake and have NEVER just laid around the house in our undies. Both of us will suggest that he get some additional clothing on ie: pajamas or a shirt, but he tunes us out and conveniently forgets what we suggested. I had a friend while growing up who’s dad felt very comfortable in this attire and it really grossed me out. I would like to nip this behavior in the bud, before my young man starts wistfully asking for “beeeer” just like Homer J. Simpson. Please help me!

    April 8th, 2005 | #

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