The lady I bought my house off is a PE teacher at the local school. Being a typical Educated Type she has zero organisational skills and thus I have spent the first 8 or 9 weeks in my house sending her a massive collection of mail each week, as she has not got round to doing a redirect. I was getting crosser and crosser about this as it was costing me a fortune in stamps nevertheless hassle! So my enclosed 'notes' suitably got less and less friendly. Just as I was about to get Very Cross Indeed she posted me a lovely Thank You card, saying how bad she felt about it and how amazing I was to post it all on etc etc, which was really nice of her and of course meant I could not unleash my Serious Crossness on her.
The next week I received a note from her enclosing a letter for me I had sent on to her by mistake (how complicated?) in which she asked whether I would mind putting up a poster for her Hockey Team in work, which I did. When I sent her the next week's load of mail (still no redirection...), I added on my by now 'Hi Kirsty how are you what have you been up to in the last week' chatty type note the fact that I had put her Hockey poster up in work, and jokingly asking if 38 was too old to play Hockey.
Some two weeks went past where the post I received for her decreased massively (hurrah! redirect at last) with just the odd clothing catalogue (kept by me) and Wine Club flyer (binned by me) arrived for her. Then one cold Monday evening there is a knock at my door - lo! and behold
if it is not Ms Previous House Owner and Member of Hockey Team, clutching some more post for me (parking permit application, jolly pleased to get my grubby mitts on that) and also holding a piece of paper that had a map on it.
I invited her in, took great delight in telling her she no longer needed to take her shoes upon entry as the white hall carpet was now (a) mine, (b) filthy and (c) being replaced by Father Christmas (hee hee), and we went to the kitchen for a cuppa and a catch up (our penpal relationship blossoming nicely into Possible Buddies). Over said cuppa she announces that 38 is not too old to play Hockey, there are several ladies older than me on the team and gave me directions to the Hockey Club where I was to report at 7pm prompt the next night in order to attend training!
Well, I was so gobsmacked at this (having completely forgotten my foolish off-the-cuff comment about playing) that I agreed to turn up, after making a feeble attempt to cry off by stating I did not have a Stick. 'No problem!' came the reply 'just borrow one of mine!'. So, off she tore (being a PE teacher she is Manic with respect to her physical movements) leaving me stunned in the kitchen.
I spent the rest of the evening and all the next day whirling the idea of Actually Turning Up around in my head, going from 'F It! Go For It' to 'Don't be ridiculous, it is 24 years since you last picked up a Hockey Stick and you were damn useless then'. Anyway, I got home Tuesday night from work and decided to embrace the F It approach, duly donned the only Sports Kit I own (being my running gear) and set off for the Hockey Club.
The Club, being some 12 miles away, took about 15 minutes to drive too and half way there I was forced to pull over as I was finding it hard to drive due to the fact my whole body was shaking with nerves (if the cops had turned up they would have bundled me into a blood wagon and sent me straight to the Hozzie (as we Northerners call the Hospital) convinced I was suffering from Epilepsy). I sat there, clad in my thin tight chilly running lycra, and told myself I was totally stupid, I couldn't play Hockey as a child so what made me think I could now, I have never had any time for the whole Women United Through Sports scene, and I was simply setting myself up to make a complete show of myself for an hour and a half. Shaking having subisded to a manageable degree, I turned my ST around and we started back for home.
Next set of lights I literally shout at myself to Get A Grip - it is one evening of your life where you will undoubtedly make a show of yourself (nothing new there), in front of complete strangers who you would never see again, and what the hell you Just Might Like It. So, U-Turn #2 and back we are heading to the Club.
I get there, meet my mate Kirsty, get introduced to anout 30 women of all shapes, sizes, ages and abilities and before you know it I am taking part in Hockey Training! I could not believe it. Moreover, I was enjoying myself, despite the fact it was -4 degrees and everyone else had hoodies and thick track pants on so I was the only tw@t in running lycra; and even despite the really embarrassing fact I could not remember a single bloody thing about Hockey - how to dribble, how to tackle etc etc! But I strove on remorselessly and even played a blinding 20 mins as Goal Defence at the end (where I performed several Killer Tackles, one causing some verbal abuse which I was dead chuffed about!).
So, training session over we all bugger off home pronto, me all a glow with my personal physical and mental successes of Having A Go and Liking It.
Time I got home to my cold empty dark house it was 9pm, I am now suffering Full Body Shakes #2 and have already developed pulled muscles, so I sink into a hot bath to warm up. Time I have that, eat some tea and chill out it is 10.30 pm which for me is Very Late Indeed considering I am stone cold sober! So I fall into bed and have a massive sleep. Morning comes, I can't bloody move! Every muscle in my body has gone into revolt and is refusing to work, I was like a 100 year old when I finally persuaded my limbs to move and get out of bed, it was awful. I got to work and felt a bit better, especially when I started telling everyone I Played Hockey Last Night (Amazing how massaging an ego can remedy any number of physical injuries!). (I must confess I nearly took my borrowed stick to work so I could effect that casual 'Oh yes, I play Hockey' approach).
So, the week progressed and everyone remained Very Impressed at my new found skill. Tuesday came around real quick mind you, but all my friends wished me luck for Hockey as they left work so I was all set up for Training Session 2. I got home, sat on my sofa, lit the fire (just to take the edge off) and yup, you guessed it, I went straight to F It mode and snuggled up to watch a decent evening's telly, no more of that freezing my ass off pretending to bond wirh complete strangers who verbally abused me and of whom a significant number were gay (remember the unwanted but ever present attraction I hold for gay women if you will) !!
So, that was the end of my Hockey Playing.
However, before you start with the 'Oh No' s and 'Go Back' s, consider this - I managed NOT to spend several hundred £ on the complete kit - which in itself is a Huge Achievement, especially when you cast your mind back to the whole Mountain Bike Episode, which cost me around £400 and left me falling over a bloody bike I no longer wanted after 3 rides (which I leant to my sister back in 2006 so you can bet your bottom dollar I won't be seeing that again)! So, all in all a bit of a result for me I reckon. (I forgot to tell you I also confirmed during the training session that I really Don't have any hand-eye co-ordination. Think Golf Lessons!). And a fab story which has certainly made me laugh in the telling, so hopefully will have made you laugh too.
Until my next fad - good bye !! xxxxxoxoxoxxxooox
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