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Kicking off all kinds of seasons.
By Hannah Wallace
The Sarasota social season got started on Friday with the UnParty. Did anybody out there attend? I went courtesy of Mattison’s the last couple years, and would happily have paid to attend this year’s UnParty at Michael’s Wine Cellar, but I had a scheduling conflict. (Also known as a hockey tournament.) I assume it was awesome as always. Who’s got the details?
Also, while the Sarasota go-getters kicked off the season this weekend, the SH-T Kickers did the same on Thursday at Bee Ridge Park. We’ve been moved to the higher division…which sounds hysterically absurd, considering we’re talking about kickball here, people. Still, we won our first game via mercy rule, but don’t expect that trend to continue. In this league, they take that big bouncy ball crazy-serious.
The Ms Conduct also started our travel season this weekend with a wham-bam-thank you-ma’am (in so many ways) kinda tournament. Friday I jetted straight from work to the Brandon Ice Sports Forum for a 7 p.m. game, followed by another at 9:30, then two more Saturday. These weekend tournaments (five or six per season) tend to be one game on Friday nights, then two on Saturday and another Sunday morning. This time, though, the schedule had to make room for the Lightning training camp (the Lightning use the Brandon rink as their training facility). So you could say that I shared the ice with an NHL team this weekend…
I sort of hate to say it, but it’s good to play in this all-women’s travel league again. I love playing with the boys Sunday nights, but an inferiority complex comes with the territory—something like short-man’s syndrome: aggressive paranoia. I suffer from the nagging thoughts that my competitors either scoff at my presence or totally change their game so as not to hurt my delicate girlishness, while my teammates swallow their frustrations because you’re not allowed to criticize girls (especially considering Mrs. Harrible and I are the significant others of two of the bigger, better boys on the team). Being smaller, weaker and (worst of all) coming to the sport relatively recently, I hate to think that I’m being judged most of all for being a woman—and, worse still, that women are being judged every time I make a stupid mistake.
Keep in mind, of course, that a lot of this is probably just in my head (and, alas, there to stay). But in the women’s tournament Friday night, as a 6-foot college hockey alum hip-checked me into the boards without a second thought, sending me skidding along the ice, collecting snow in my jersey, all I could think was, “Wow, it’s good to be out here with the gals again.”
Yep, I think it’s going to be a good season.