My name's Adam Dodd and I'm a beer-league veteran. Since the summer of 2007, I've played in the men's leagues in Toronto, usually twice or three-times per week. I run my own team, and have played on teams that have been in the B, D, and E divisions. Off the ice, I'm in school, studying at Seneca College to work in the television broadcasting industry. I've got a Bachelor of Arts degree from York University in Humanities, and I try and conduct myself in my day-to-day life as a pretty decent guy with a good sense of humour. I've rarely run into people who I couldn't get along with, and I try really hard not to get mad at people, because I like being nice.
That is, until I step on the ice.
I've loved the game of hockey since I was a kid. I'm a moderately talented player who can usually put up a solid number of points. My passing and positioning is good, and I've been told that I'm a good teammate. The only problem is that whenever I step on the ice against your team, the easy money says that at some point during the game, someone is going to try and take a run at me.
That's right. Me, Adam Dodd? Number 77 in red?
I'm the guy that your team can't stand. The player that exaggerated a hook or a trip that sent you to the sin bin. The asshole who stands JUST inside of the goalie's crease and just glides further in when you cross-check him. The very same jerk that is grinning like an idiot every single second of the game, even when you're trash-talking him, and the one guy who's still going hard for the puck in the corners when the score is 7-0, just so he can pass it back to his defense.
Yeah, I'm that guy.
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| (Yes, I am in fact THIS guy as well) |
It's actually kind of funny. My Thursday night team that I've been with for a few years now, it's become a bit of a running gag. During our game this past Thursday; a 9-0 win over a vastly inferior opponent that got NO bounces go their way and had players missing, one of their players simply ignored the puck and took a very blatant run at me, recieving a four-minute penalty for body contact. After the game, one of my teammates asked me what I'd done to the player for him to go after me so viciously. I pleaded ignorance, and everyone burst out laughing, causing one of our defenseman to look at me and deadpan: "No, really. What'd you say to him?"
The simple fact is that I'm an antagonizer, an agitator; whatever you want to call it - I do the job because I'm good at it. I'm a smart guy and I can read people well. Players, especially hockey players, will get far angrier at you if you play little games with them, than if you simply try and trash talk them. The incident on Thursday happened because I don't believe in giving up on a play. It doesn't matter to me if I'm up 12-0 or if the game is tied 4-4, I'm still going to try my hardest. My work ethic and my internal drive doesn't permit me to do otherwise. Now, that doesn't mean that I'm going to be an outright dick about it. I'm not going to score the 13th goal in a blowout and cheer like I've just won the lottery. That's just being a poor sport. I can be a lot of things, but a poor sport isn't one of them.
Not everyone's going to agree with all of my views as I post them in this blog, and I'm sure there's a lot of people out there who'll think that my style of play is despicable. In fact, my own mother is one of them. I've had countless discussions with her on why I sometimes play the style that I do, and even after years of doing it, she doesn't understand why I can't just go out and play. Sure, sometimes I do. But the role that I play on the team can sometimes tilt the balance of a game back into our favour, and you cannot devalue the importance of momentum in a tight game.
My function in this blog will probably entail a sarcastic look at the week's happenings in my quest to have someone on each hockey team I play against hate me, as well as a glimpse inside of what it feels like to want to go and purchase the entire stock of jerseys at Millennium Sports in Vaughan Mills mall. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!) From time to time, I may spontaneously launch into stories about my life, my history in hockey, or anything else that happens to strike my fancy that I can manage to relate to sports.
I hope that you (being the reader) enjoy what I have to contribute, because if we meet on the ice, you probably won't.
Especially if you're a goalie.
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