Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Bullying at The Rink

While it may seem like a miracle that the Chicago Cubs finally won the World Series, it’s easy to forget – that was predicted years ago.
   Not by Nostradamus, but in Back to the Future II.
   In Marty McFly’s alternate universe, 2015 gives us things like the championship Cubs, self-lacing sneakers, and everybody’s favorite blockheaded bully, Biff Tannen.
  Our actual 2016 now has two-outta-three (which we all know ain’t bad), but when it comes to actual bullies, kids don’t have the luxury of hoverboards or time travelling DeLorean’s. So what do you do when your child encounters bullying at the rink, or in the locker room?
   You need to create an environment that makes it difficult for such practices to survive. For Westchester County Physical Education Teacher and Youth Hockey Coach Stacey Wierhl that means setting clear standards and expectations for the team that promotes the team first. “The coach is responsible for creating a team atmosphere that is about caring for one another. When each player thinks of their teammates first, the coach has done a great job to combat any potential bullying,” says Wierhl.  

     Supervision is key.  “The coach needs to be vigilant before and after games and practices. Coaches need to be aware of what kids are saying in lines and on the bench,"  Wierhl adds. “Coaches most certainly need to be present and involved whenever the team is together.”
   Wierhl also advises coaches to be that someone that every player feels comfortable approaching. “If a player hears or witnesses something that made them uncomfortable, the player must have a sense of trust and comfort in the coach to be able to openly share his or her concerns.”

    Bullying in athletics is real, and occurs across all general lines, at all levels. And when addressed, it can quickly cause its victims to loathe not just the harassment, but the sport itself.
    If you, your coaches, and other team members have empowered kids, then it’s easy for them to apply some of Biff Tannen’s own wisdom to bullying – tell it to make like a tree, and get out of here.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

Clearing a Hockey Helmet Hurdle

    I'm going to miss that white helmet. She's worn white since mites.This week my hockey girl is strapping on a navy blue one, as she begins playing for a Varsity High School Hockey team. I found out after a post on Facebook, I'm not the only one with a silly attachment to a helmet color. A number of parents chimed in when I shared my melancholy feelings. "Noah switched from a royal blue helmet he's been wearing since he started mites to a navy blue one," wrote one Facebook friend, "It took us about a month and a half to figure out who he was on the ice."

     When your kid is the same size and shape as ten others on the team, having a unique helmet can be a plus,  "My oldest always wore a red helmet. My parents and I loved it because we always knew which player was on the ice with a quick glance. When people would ask which one was my son, it's a simple reply, red helmet," wrote another parent.
 But it's more than the plus of the quick recognition factor, that's stirred my emotions and why I'm having such a tough time with the retirement of the white helmet.

         Sophia picking white over yellow, black, navy blue or red had a lot to do with a gifted 13 year old hockey player, who was the playmaker on her big brother's team. He always took the time to pat her on the head as they lined up to take the ice, ask her how her game was and did she score. He never treated her like the annoying little brother and sister who runs rampant around the arena with all the other rink rats, stuffing wayward pucks into their pockets.. She was Joey's little sister, and he always made her feel like an important part of the team. Their little mascot.
      This teen who won my little girl's admiration was fast and furious on the ice, with strength beyond his years. His reputation spread and rival teams always knew to try and shut down the kid in the white helmet.  Beyond his talent, he was a class act. Never vindictive, always providing inspiration to teammates with less talent, and helping them play up.

     I'll always remember when he got the puck to my boy, who hadn't yet scored in a game, and then celebrating like he was the one who made the goal.  A phenonmenal football player, there were times when I think he had a hard time switching off that defensive tackle mode as he went from cleats to blades. The game he inadvertantly flattened an opponent as he was flying across the ice, then stopped to help that player up, was the day my girl begged to wear a white helmet. How could I say no?

     She's worn one ever since. I can't help but think those early impressions of her hero in the white helmet, has a little something to do with the development of the passion, and drive that I see every time she steps out onto the ice, her desire to keep things calm when tempers flare and the respect she has for the letter "C" she wore on her jersey.

     She's stepping out onto the ice tonight for the first time in blue.  So while I may not be able to quickly recognize her by what she's wearing on her head,  I hope I will continue to tell her apart, by what she carries in her heart.    

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Hockey Gear Smell Test

Need a hand with your smelly hockey gear? The Pog passed The Puck Hog glove test (as well as pants, pads and bag) One lucky fan of The Puck Hog Facebook page will have a chance to win one! 

Just "like" The Puck Hog  page and then post a comment or picture telling us why you need an assist. 

One entry per family please. We will randomly draw a name on Monday November 7th (election eve;) and announce our winner on Tuesday November 8th. Cheers to a sweet smelling season! POG is on Facebook too #hockeygeardoesnthavetostink

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Sharing Their Skills

Sharing Their Skills: The Camillus Cougars Girls Hockey team took their hockey skills to another country this summer and shared their experience with Bridge Street Co-Host Sistina Giordano.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

What? No Hockey Bag?

When we delivered our son to Bentley University in Boston, stuffing every inch of our SUV with all the dorm room essentials, to the shock and disbelief of some friends and relatives, there was no hockey bag. What? He’s not playing hockey in college?

   That kind of reaction doesn’t surprise Plymouth, Michigan hockey mom Laurie Golden, author of The Trophy Mom blog, who points out that only two percent of athletes receive college scholarships. She’s seen parents make the mistake of concentrating all efforts on one sport, with extra coaching thinking, it will pay off with a scholarship, “We know kids that have played juniors hoping for a college opportunity and then enter college at age 20 or 22 with no scholarship, while their friends have finished college. My husband and I joke that if people took all the money they spent on camps, special training and extra coaching and invested it, they’d have no problem paying for college,” says Golden.
My son Joe loved playing defense. One of his most memorable games was in Lake Placid 

     While playing for a college was never on our son’s radar, or ours, early on in his life it was clear that hockey was his passion. His and not ours. 

 Kellie Merrill from Wasilla, Alaska saw that same kind of natural passion in her daughter, who played on a co-ed Tier 2 team. “She loves hockey 24/7 as much as my husband and I do.” But her son?  Not so much. The lack of enthusiasm led to a heart to heart before his Bantam year, which resulted in a switch from the rink to the pool.  He now loves swimming, “ As a parent I am passionate about watching my children enjoy what they are doing instead of seeing a lack luster performance because they think that is what I expect them to be doing.” says Merrill.

    Parents need to set realistic expectations too, reminds Wasilla Warriors High School Head Coach William Sturdevant who points out parents sometimes forget that the game is about the kids on the ice and not the parents in the stands, “It’s unfortunate when parents, for example, focus on how their player could have scored five goals instead of being proud of the three that were scored. Ultimately this leads to the player watching the “coach” in the stands and not the coach on the bench and their teammates.”

    “It’s really easy to lose your perspective,” says Golden whose eldest played baseball for Eastern Michigan University, another played ACHA hockey for Oakland University and her daughter played for the 19U Michigan Icebreakers. “You have to make a conscious decision to stay focused on what’s best for your child and your family. Now that my kids are older, each of them has thanked us for being sane, level-headed sports parents. The kids really are watching.”

    Hockey was a great run for our son who gained confidence, friends, and leadership skills. He had a blast and so did we, all the while, keeping it “in check.”

Alex Tuch is Primed for the Pro-Game

Alex Tuch is Primed for the Pro-Game

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

The Road Trip

by Caroline Stanistreet 

As I sit on a plane heading home from a national sales meeting, I can't help but think about the next time I will head home in a plane.

That will be the time I return from driving my son 12+ hours south to his college destination. It's his dream come true, and for me it's going to be tough. He's the last one to go, and while my daughter is also going away, she will be only a half-hour drive due west.

I think of all the time and hours I spent driving them both to a wide variety of places. With my daughter, it was horseback riding lessons, Irish step dancing classes (thankfully that lasted only about a year), swim club, marching band and high school musicals.

For my son, it was mainly sports - first hockey, a little cross-country, then lacrosse, then golf. That was mixed in with a few years of piano lessons (those, I wish he continued, but maybe he will pick it up again after his recent discovery of some "new" pianists...named Billy Joel and Elton John).

I felt so liberated when the day came that one of them began to drive. But, then I reminisced to the careful coordination of carpooling with other hockey moms in our neighborhood.  Some days I was "off," and on a few of them it saved me all from seemingly risking life and limb to get them to hockey practice in rather unpleasant weather conditions (snow totaling 1-2" per hour with high winds for one). One day, I drove 6 young hockey boys and 6 stinky hockey bags in my Chevy Suburban, now topping the odometer at 131,126 miles since it was bought in 2010. We don't owe it a thing, since it served its time and continues to roll along as a towing vehicle every so often.

Driving my daughter was more entertaining - and less pungent - as I would listen to the don’t-take-a breath chatter between her and her theatrical or musical friends about rehearsals and how they thought a show or performance was coming together.  The conversations and varied opinions always made me chuckle.

In both cases, there were always remnants, or trinkets, of the numerous trips in my Suburban.  Hair bands, candy wrappers, broken pencils, coins, golf tees, partially consumed Gatorade bottles, and the occasional missing hockey glove were among the items.  Strangely enough, a cell phone was once located in the 3rd row seat, but was reported missing several days after bringing one of my son's friends home....that I still can't understand since this kid is a teenager!


Well, here I am - just a few short weeks later, on the plane home and trying to be a brave girl. Just 2 days before, Sean and I took the big road trip South, and it’s really his first time he’ll remember heading to South Carolina.  I did, of course, put a photo album together for him of his life.  There is a lot of good stuff he didn't remember as a boy, so it was my job to remind him and to make myself feel better (it didn't work).  But he really enjoyed looking at some of the events he barely remembered, and it at least reminded him of the friendships he forged, the places he went and the smile he ALWAYS had on his face.

We stopped after 8 1/2 hours from Central New York to just south of Roanoke, Virginia, as I thought the full 12 hours would be too much for me, and I was right (CONFESSION - I wanted to extend my time with him as much as possible).  It will be difficult, obviously, to repeat that same memorable trip with my daughter, as she will be a mere 30 minutes away (perhaps 37 minutes away in the winter).  But the pain will be the same.  Saying goodbye to your college-bound child reminds me of the same unique pain I had during childbirth. You just can't explain it, but it's a whole different kind of hurt than anything you can really describe, and Moms everywhere may know what I mean!

So during my last hours with Sean, especially during the chaotic yet scenic trek through Pennsylvania and mountainous Virginia, I did what any good reporter (though retired) would do...ask a lot of questions to get him to talk - and get to know him a little bit better than his 18 years, 7 months and 28 days, and 11 1/4 hours of life (but who's counting?)....

    "What classes are you taking?"
    "Uh, how do you pronounce the name of that 'singer' again? Wiz Kalifah?"
    "I could really go for a beeeeerrr...uh, ice"
    "What else can I buy you?!"
    "Maybe we can find a driving range near the hotel?"
    "Where are your roommates from, again?"
    "When will you be home?"  "I'll book your flight now if you'd like!"

    Just the usual questions.

As we continue at 30,000 feet into a bright evening summer sky, the makeup-laden tears have dried on my face, temporarily.  I won't contact him daily like I conspired to do, as I need to cut the cord quickly for both our sakes. However - I'm going to correspond the old-fashioned way, something both my parents did - which I'll always appreciate - I'm sending frequent letters - and care packages and maybe some money! My husband suggested I send him gift cards to the southern fast food places there, which is a great idea, and an excuse to let him know we are all still thinking of him.  Not sure if he will save the letters or notes like I did. Since both my parents are gone, any of their written correspondence is priceless to me now, especially the brief, yet humorous, writings of my father from his personalized sea foam green 5 x 7" notepaper with his name and full calendar on the upper right hand corner, circa 1980.  It was normally folded 3 ways with either a crisp $10 bill or a check written with his beautiful prep school handwriting for the same amount. And may I remind you that $10 was a FORTUNE in 1980?!

As that song, or many songs say, "don't you forget about me."

I think we did our job, and a pretty good one at that. I've discovered that through observing my husband and his relationships with his older adult children, being a parent will never have a retirement opportunity, and that's totally OK with me. I just don't want our kids to ever forget their childhood, their upbringing and the unconditional love they have always had and always will. But it's time to let go and let them grow into their own wonderful selves, as incredibly different as they are from being just 51 weeks apart (and yes, yes, yes, I would do that all over again).

For those of you who are still carting your kids to hockey practice, play rehearsal, golf or tennis lessons, or lacrosse clinics, cherish every moment, because it goes way too fast.  It's not a cliché; I'm living it right now. Smell those stinky shoulder pads, pick up the change and the Bobbie pins stuck to the car floor, and hum the tunes the kids would try to harmonize on the car radio together. Those road trips are the best, although the one I just took with Sean probably topped my list.

Friday, September 2, 2016

Hockey Season Start-Up Checklist

Ask any prizefighter – or even any good hockey player – and he or she will tell you: the fight is won not in the ring, but in the months of preparation beforehand.
So while it will be incumbent upon your young skater to diligently practice, prepare, and position him or herself for success, we as parents can set a good example.
Equipment check
Check the gear from head-to-toe, toe-to-head, and every neutral zone in between. Chances are your hockey player grew a little, and maybe even grew out of some of his or her gear. It’s not just a matter of comfort, but safety too. Good coverage can help protect players and avoid injury from board collisions, sticks, and pucks.
Not sure if you can get another year out of the gear? Auburn, NY hockey mom Jackie Reilly makes a trip to her local retail hockey store, and has them judge what’s good and what needs to be replaced. She also picks up spare blades, laces, sock tape, mouth guards, and stick tape. Then it’s off to the drug store to stock up on ibuprofen and wipes. It all gets packed in a travel crate stored in her Suburban – along with hoodies, blankets, gloves, spare shirts, books, and odor ban travel spray.
Control Your Corner
As big or bad as any fighter may be, as talented as he or she may be, a prizefighter is only as good as his or her trainer (remember where Rocky was before Mickey taught him to eat lightning and … dispense with the thunder?).
So as the person in charge of the corner, make sure your crew knows the rules. School comes first, and sticking to that solid sleep schedule is important too. Other sports, family time, rest, and relaxation need to be in your lives too. Hockey may be a passion, but don’t overdue it.
The Weigh-In
The preseason team meeting can be one of the most important events of the season. It will help you determine costs, travel plans, goals for the team, the coach’s philosophy, and give you a chance to develop a good relationship with the coach. Don’t skip it!
It takes a team to run a team, so don’t be afraid to get on board with tackling a new role, like team manager. You just may get hooked!
Gut Check
Hockey mom friend Sharon Enck – aka “Puckgal” – has a heart-to-heart with her goalie daughter before the start of each season, asking things like what she’s excited and nervous about. What does she want to work on this season?
“Of course, I don’t interrogate her all at once because she would probably just clam up if I did,” says Enck. ”I drop these questions in during a car ride or on a walk to get the ‘real’ answers.”
Enck says that gut check helps her figure out the best way to steer the season. She also does the nose a favor with a good old fashioned sterilization of smelly equipment. The motto for her entourage? “Begin fresh and end filthy.”
It may not have the same panache as Burgess Meredith’s infamous line to Rocky, but the sentiment remains – put in the time before you get ready to rumble, and you and yours will be able to proclaim to Adrian and everybody, “Yo, I did it!”

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Setting Goals for the New Season

              Setting Goals For The Season For Your Player, And Yourself  

    This season I promise not to yell “shooot” so much and say “I love watching you play” a lot more. I promise to ignore the hot heads and keenly watch my daughter’s cool moves.

   I will step up and raise more money and cut down on chirping at the ref. The list goes on. That’s what I love about a new season.  Like a freshly resurfaced sheet of ice, we get the chance to erase bumps, rough patches and breakaway from past mistakes.

      I’ve also noticed more than a few moms and dads in the stands looking up between text messages and Facebook feeds,  swiping, scrolling, reading while son or daughter is passing, scoring and making saves. Do you notice your smartphone’s ping before a ref’s whistle? Don’t think your kids don’t notice.  #HockeyParentFail 
   So this season, let’s it’s time to put down the phones and video cameras and pick up our heads. As my friend Sharon Enk, AKA Puckgal wisely notes,  playback is never as good as the real thing. 

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Shop Around for the Team that Fits

                              Before you join a team and say I do now,
                                 Make sure it’s a good fit for you now,
                                       This mama is telling you,
                                        You better shop around!

      Wait a minute, you’re thinking, cute song, but that makes no sense. Teams pick kids, not the other way around. Not necessarily. If your young hockey player enjoys multiple sports and activities during the season, you’ll want to find a program that will give them a chance to grow their skills and still have a life outside of hockey. 
     As hockey dad/coach Michael Bonelli with the Bears hockey team points out, “Your family is unique and your child’s interests and activities are unique. If you choose to play for a team and a coach that offers little to no flexibility when it comes to other activities, then you’re setting yourself up for frustration before the season even begins.”
    It may take some detective work, but don’t be afraid to ask questions, “As a parent you need to know start of the season, end of the season, holiday schedule, weekly commitment.” A 6am weekday practice before school, not cool? Do all players play every position, or is the coach going to determine your child is a “born defenseman” at age 9?  Find out!

        Finding a good match may take a little extra work, but well worth the effort, “Finding a team, a coach and an organization that adheres to the same values and expectations as your family will make for a smoother experience throughout the season.” says Bonelli. 
     While you might not find the team that fits like a hockey glove, knowing ahead of time how much an organization and team structures their program, can make a world of difference down the road.



Thursday, March 31, 2016

Award Sends Message to this Hockey Mom

 Just when I was beginning to feel bitter and angry about the freak injury that sidelined my hockey girl for six months, along comes a notification from our coaches they would like Sophia to attend the annual hockey board meeting and be part of a special night. We had never been and I wasn't quite sure what it was all about, but it was there, those angry, bitter feelings, got sidelined.

     Sophia's coaches had chosen her to receive The Ryan Schoonmaker award for sportsmanship. I found out that night Ryan Schoonmaker was an amazing and spirited hockey player who tragically died in an auto accident, at the age of 16. To honor is memory and all that he stood for, Ryan's parents created the award to be given to one player on each team.

Mr. and Mrs. Tim Schoonmaker who created the Ryan Schoonmaker award in memory of their young hockey player who died in an auto accident.

The Schoonmakers shared details on the qualifications for the award;  

" Despite being a true competitor, this person is willing to openly congratulate opponents and accept even the most bitter of outcomes, because he or she knows there was nothing more they could have done within the rules of the game to change the end result.

Just because the root sports actually is part of the word sportsmanship, it doesn't mean that good sportsmanship behavior is required on on the athletic fields. People who are honest, consistently  give their best effort, who don't make excuses, respect others, are able to accept every day outcomes, without complaint or holding grudges are generally the ones who succeed.  Every day presents many ups and downs. There are many more small defeats than major successes. Good sports don't get bogged down in the smallest of setbacks."

      "This described my son Ryan. Ryan played with this organization until Bantam. He was on good teams. And also, some not so good teams. He played travel. And also on House teams. Was he the top scorer? Maybe. Was he the assist leader? Could have been. He was an individual who demonstrated the characteristics of a truly good sportsman. He put his love of the game and being a member of the team first. In his last year, when he was playing forward on a Bantam travel team, his coach asked him to play defense. Had he ever played defense before? No. Was he one of the better forwards on the team? Maybe. Did he complain about this change? No. Did the move to defense and how he handled it make his parents proud?  Yes. As a side note, Ryan was all of 5'5 in his skates and all of 125 pounds with all of his gear on. For him to play defense at Bantam travel level showed his teammates the size of his heart and how much he loved the sport of hockey. To Ryan, the team was the most important thing.  Not where and how much you played. For the past 15 years, Camillus youth hockey has selected children from all levels that the coaches believe demonstrate the characteristics that Ryan exemplified and stood for. "

 " To the recipients tonight, picture this in your mind. you are standing at Shove Park by the door, waiting for the zamboni to finish the ice. You look out,  and see that clean sheet of ice. No skate marks. No imperfections. It is another practice, it's a big game. Whatever it is, it's another opportunity to display good sportsmanship. To the parents, you should be proud of how you are raising your child. Your son or your daughter. They are a reflection of you. Tonight take photos."
"Congratulate your children on receiving this honor. Each of these awards continues to pass on Ryan's name and what he stood for as an individual. This award is similar to passing an Olympic torch that passes the Olympic spirit of one Olympics to the next.  While we continue to suffer from our tragic loss,even today,  a piece of Ryan remains and his spirit continues in each of tonight's winners. These winners serve as remembrances of Ryan and how he lived his life. "

Friday, March 25, 2016

My Tough Hockey Girl

Hello my friends. Sophia would like to thank you for all of the prayers and well wishes. The surgery got complicated. Turns out she suffered a very rare root tear of the medial meniscus, which required an entirely different approach than a traditional meniscal repair. Her meniscus had flipped and they could not repair it arthroscopically. Our surgeon said he had never seen this in anyone her age, and only two in his entire medical career. What was supposed to be an hour and a half surgery, was close to four with two surgeons.So, she has 15 staples down in her leg. "15? Wow, that's my number!" exclaimed Sophia when informed by the doctor. She was also told she will have a scar. " Darn, does this mean my career as a leg model is over? " Sophia joked and got her medical team laughing. She then told them the scar will be "cool" and she is going to tell everyone she was bitten by a shark. It will take six months to heal.  
Sophia hasn't shed a single tear, unlike her mom.
‪#‎SuperToughHockeyGirl‬ ‪#‎HockeyMomInAwe‬ of daughter's strength and courage.

Wednesday, March 23, 2016


   So my tough little hockey girl, who has been hip-checked, tripped, whacked and punched more than a few times this season is now out for the rest of the season. But it wasn't hockey that got her sidelined. It was during lacrosse practice, doing something she done hundreds of times before. A sudden stop and change in direction. Pop goes the knee and now the lacrosse season, that has only just begun.
    Sophia has a torn meniscus and surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. This was a transition time for my girl. She made the lacrosse team and we've got one more big tournament to close out the hockey season. This is the weekend her hockey team travels to Brampton for the world's largest girls hockey tournament. Being sidelined hurts.  No broken bones, but my tender young hockey player's heart is broken. She wanted more than anything to be with the girls, her team, her "crew," and bring home some Canadian hardware.
         She's understandably anxious about the surgery. Will it hurt? Will I be awake for it? Will I be loopy? When can I get back to lacrosse?
      I need to reassure her that "it's not the end of her world" as she texted to her good friend, and that she'll be back on the ice/grass in no time.  I know she will bounce back, physically and emotionally, a lot faster than this sappy mom, who absolutely loves to watch her play. It's such a huge part of our lives. Now we all have to figure out, how to make it less painful, for all of us.


Monday, March 21, 2016

Ode To Lane 3

Ode to Lane 3
by Caroline Stanistreet

(This is dedicated to former competitive swimmers who loved to swim back then, and may return to the pool someday.... even though the whitewater we make these days may not be as white!)

It only took me 2 minutes to jump into you today. That's rare for me. That first minute to adjust to the water temperature was always the worst part of practice. It used to take 5-10 minutes before my Coach would become frustrated with me and would give "the final countdown" before adding laps to my warm up.

I had to briefly share you, Lane 3, with someone who was unsure of proper "circle swimming etiquette" but we got through it. Sharing you with someone else challenged me to swim harder and faster. I made small goals of passing the swimmer - and catching up again. 

Your close-to-the-middle spot in the pool enabled me to look at other lap swimmers on one side, and secretly cheer on the children taking their deep water test on the other side. Their goal? Swim one length, pass and graduate to the Almighty Water Slide. But you're not a proving ground, Lane 3, you are there for people like me who get the privilege to escape for an hour and simply forget about the day to day challenges in life. 

My arms felt weak when I started, but you were forgiving and allowed me to warm up and take as much time as I needed to get used to you. The instep of my right foot even cramped up like it used to (I forgot to eat a banana prior to heading to the pool). Hey, it's been more than a few years since I swam "for real" in a 25-yard pool, having enjoyed much shorter laps in my backyard pool in the summer. 

Common sense also told me not to overdo it on my first day back. So I stopped at one of your ends and used a starting block to stretch my arms, rest briefly, and return to my private workout. You and your fellow lanes were non-judgmental, and remained completely  unconcerned about my age or ability if I had to stop.

You were also the perfect distance from the side with the pace clocks, one which was digital - and the other clock that most competitive swimmers grew up with. From you, Lane 3, I could see that large white face and easily read the single black hand for minutes, and the red sweeping second hand...which at times seemed to spin too quickly.

Placed at your shallow end was a large whiteboard with a handwritten workout for "veteran" competitive swimmers, also known as Masters. If you know who the "Not Ready For Primetime Players" are from Saturday Night Live, then you may appreciate the group I began toward the end of my swim, the "Not Ready For Masters 4,500-yard Workout" - not yet at least. 

Thanks to you, Lane 3, I was able to simultaneously swim and fill my head with an array of songs and even a few memories of past swim competitions.  I'm pretty certain that I solved some of the world's problems - without the use of a cell phone and social media. Imagine that! 

I may have brought home a little bit of you...I swallowed some water after a flip turn, which I can still do fairly well after so many years.  But my memory must've shorted out since every coach will tell you NOT to breathe out of your turn! (Gulp)

It's no secret that swimming is THE best sport when it comes to maintaining flexibility, improving endurance and strength, and increasing lung capacity.  So working toward those fitness goals may cause some aches and pains. But they don't stem from you, Lane 3. I am not pounding my feet on pavement or jumping up and down on a floor. You are so kind to my joints and knees. You allow me to pull myself through you and resist just the right amount. For that I am grateful, especially on my first day back. 

So thank you for the most satisfying exercise I've had in a long time, Lane 3.  I've been gone too long and I can't wait to see you again, and if you're not available, perhaps you won't mind if I spend some time with Lane 4?