How unexpected air conditioning helped me score a goal!
By Robert E. Wrigley
The internet is awash with videos showing people having embarrassing moments in pursuit of their chosen sport, and they often cause me to burst out laughing. One such incident, a wardrobe mishap which occurred on the ice during a figure-skating competition, immediately reminded me of a not-so-funny, ice-related mishap of my own some years ago.
As a youth, I had enjoyed playing hockey for years with my friends at an outdoor rink, but with an eventual heavy course load, teaching, and thesis work for nine years at McGill and the University of Illinois, I had to forgo my beloved game. When I moved to Winnipeg to take up my new career, I eventually joined an Old-timers League, and passed the long winters playing games on weekday nights at 11:00 pm and Sunday mornings at 8:00 am, the only times arena ice was available.
Some years later, my wife and I joined up with six other couples to regularly play badminton, and our group soon became close friends. The guys convinced me it would be fun to form a hockey team and challenge other old-timers in the neighbourhood. As most former amateur hockey players know, it is tempting in one’s senior years once again to don old and replacement hockey equipment and attempt to recapture the thrill and companionship of playing on a team. Our supportive wives all agreed to attend the games and to cheer us on in the stands right behind our bench. I had no inkling that fate was soon to step in and create what would turn out to be one of my life’s most embarrassing incidents.
During the heat of the game, it was my line’s turn to hit the ice while the play continued. I threw both feet and my behind gracefully over the high boards just like a pro, instead of wisely exiting via the door. With the gusto of youth, I thought; “Yes, I still have it!” Sadly, there was an evil nail protruding from the top rail of the boards that managed to deftly latch onto one of the open legs of my hockey pants. You might anticipate what happened next; I got hooked like a fish out of water.
Looking down at my poor skates, there they were, floating helplessly some distance above where they were supposed to be. My bulky elbow and shoulder pads stubbornly refused to permit me to pull myself back up, and the situation dawned on me that I was entirely helpless, hanging like a picture on an art gallery wall for all to enjoy.
Well, when my teammates on the bench and dear cheerleaders became aware of my predicament, the arena erupted suddenly in howls of laughter, which soon spread like the wave to the other team and their wives. Talk about embarrassing!
Play went on without me as I watched helplessly, leaving my wingers to wonder what happened to their centerman. What could I possibly do to extricate myself? My team members on the bench were certainly not going to help me; they were too entertained and were waiting to see what was going to happen next!
Several potential options flashed across my mind, but only one seemed to lead to a solution.
I decided the only course of action was to quickly shift my torso and shoulders upward and then back down as forcefully as possible, which I presumed would yank my indisposed pant leg free. But then I heard the frightening sound of polyester fabric ripping, followed by my sudden descent and sprawl on my hands and knees onto ice level.
As I gathered up my hockey stick and got back up on my skates, I glanced back over my shoulder only to see that the rip had really opened the back of my pants, fully exposing the bright white pair of long johns covering my right butt. What followed next was the sound not only of renewed laughter, but hoots and the clapping of many female hands arising from behind me in the stands, as if the ladies were enjoying a riotous evening at a Chippendales performance. No one even thought to take pity on me, not even my wife or the referee. What to do?
What else could I do but join the play? For the rest of the game, I skated with the red material of my hockey pants flapping in the breeze, my white underwear repeatedly flashing a signal that not all was right here. At least my protective cup stayed put.
In the third period, I was able to handle a long pass, which enabled me to attain a breakaway. Outskating the pursuing and chuckling defensemen, I managed to deftly deke out the goalie and score. I have always wondered if my unusual air conditioning, or distractive open hockey pants, led to my success with that goal!
The unfortunate episode somehow remains fresh in my mind, though decades have now passed. I am certain that many readers of Lifestyles 55 have also experienced embarrassing moments (and not just in a sporting event). Perhaps my revelation will encourage others to ‘come clean’ with theirs.
Sharing sometimes helps with recovery.
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