Broomballer

My Mer-friend Megha recently organized a game of Broomball. Played on an ice-rink, broomball is similar to hockey, substituting sneakers for skates, a miniature kickball for a puck, and plastic brooms for hockey sticks. With the approaching Winter Olympics, I was excited to take my athleticism to the ice.

Although I don’t often socialize my aspiration of being an Olympian (or at least knowing one), it has always been a deep dream of mine. So when the opportunity presented itself to demonstrate my foot skills on the ice, I couldn’t resist.

Just a few weeks prior, some friends and I went skating at the National Gallery of Art’s Sculpture Garden Ice Rink. Along for the ride was our eager first-time skater, Jess. After lacing up and taking to the ice, she hugged the walls while the rest of us tried to teach Figure Skating 101. As the fast learner I know her to be, I had high hopes for Jess, thinking she’d likely master the triple salchow after a few hours on the ice, and would eventually go on to claim gold in Vancouver, and consequently, fulfill my lifelong goal. By the end of the two hour session, a few numb appendages later, I revised my position and am now setting her sights on 2014.

Anyway, another weekend of winter athletics had me yearning to demonstrate my icy instincts. We arrived at the Kettler Capitals Iceplex, most of us novice broomballers, not knowing what to expect. Upon arrival, we took to the ice with our brooms and divided up into our respective teams. $10 and one hour later, we concluded our game in a 2-2 tie, managing to send one girl to the Emergency Room (whoops). I'll admit, I left the ice feeling pretty smug; after all, I only fell once and thought I was pretty broomballer. But even with only one fall, I still spent the following week recovering from the innumerable bruises that had my body resembling a spotted leopard. I now have a greater respect for Jesus; we attempted to simplify the miracle by walking on frozen water, and even that proved to be near impossible.

I guess if I’m ever going to have a shot at landing in the winter Olympics, I’m going to have to get a pied-a-terre in Whislter. It’s either that or seriously take up curling.