The Beginning
As told by the Founder
Columbus Monkeys Hockey Club (Ohio)

I decided to stop playing football after my final minor league football season ended. Beginning in the eighth grade, competitive sports exemplified a large part of my life and served as my sole provider of health maintenance over a span of 11 years. When I decided to end my “career” due to personal priorities, I was determined to find another outlet. After college I started playing baseball again as a means of satisfaction, but it did little to heighten my heart rate. After a bit of friendly coercion, I joined a football team in 2003 and played three seasons. After my final season ended, I felt competitively incomplete and decided I wanted to learn to play hockey and undertook the daunting task of learning to skate in the spring of 2006. Overcoming my lack of balance and control was much more formidable than I originally planned, so it took some time just to be able to maneuver without fear. It was what seemed to be an impossible goal, and looking back today I am amazed at the little progress I've come to take for granted. Throughout the length of this exerpt I aim to tell a story of approach, uncertainty, fear and progress.

As I set out, my ultimate goal was playing hockey on a regular basis for a team, and I never really thought it'd be difficult to do. I anticipated that skating and stick-handling would take some work to become proficient, but I thought my background in athletics would quicken the process. The single aspect I believed to be merely procedure was joining a team and playing a game with many who share the same love for the sport at a beginner level. I didn't watch or play hockey growing up. I was raised a football player who viewed hockey in much the same way I viewed soccer- low-scoring, no fireworks, without much fan-fare. As time passed and I approached 30, those very “turn-offs” for me suddenly became attractions. Patience set in and enveloped my psyche. I was a college athlete as well as a 5-sport high school athlete. I love the contact and collisions of the sports I played and that craving piqued my initial interest in Canada 's second most popular sport (many don't know lacrosse claims the #1 spot). I figured it'd take me a while to become a contributor and get to the point where I could make an impact on each game. Work is no stranger to me as I've experienced 4 knee surgeries, two of them ACL reconstructions. I know how to work and work I did. For a period of two months attended public skate sessions two to three times a week. Straight ahead speed was my initial obstacle as I worked on balance, control, all the while enjoying each smack of the ice while wearing my wool slacks from the office. I made a couple of friends through the process, many of whom played recreational hockey in the Columbus Chiller leagues. They helped me learn to skate, taught me about recovery and the C-cut, and they encouraged me to get on the ice as soon as possible because it is “the fastest way to learn the game.” So I decide to take the leap and join a league.

While speaking to Chris, a friend of mine, I agreed that the ultimate goal for us would be to play twice a week. In preparation for the next session as I was looking for a league to accommodate a second night of ice, I found another league in Columbus that played Wednesday evenings. In fact, the Commissioner worked at my company. After receiving the email with my inquiry, my co-worker informed me that he would send out a note to all D-League “Captains” to see if anyone was in search of another warm body. I explained to him that I've never played and not even once had I geared up. I wanted to set the record straight recalling many experiences in sports where Mr. So-and-So isn't what he claims to be. Within a couple days I received a reply informing me he found a home for the time being. As I read his reply I thought to myself, “This is great; I finally get to play some games and grab some ice.” He proceeded to tell me that the “Captain” would be contacting me shortly to make further arrangements. The next day, I receive an email from said “Captain”: (Quoted for Emphasis) “Your name was given to me by (Commissioner) from the WIC for a Wednesday night d league. I have a team of mostly women that I have put together. If you are interested in playing with us the cost would be $155.00. We have all been playing of a couple of years, and have one guy on the team. e-mail me if you are interested.” I didn't know these existed, a team of females in the men's league? I wasn't really expecting that, but so be it, I just wanted to play some hockey. I proceeded to tell the “Captain” that I had never played hockey, but did participate in sports throughout my life. I told her I was aware they probably wouldn't be holding any practices before the game only a couple of days away, and that it may be rough at first but I'll catch on. In response, I received this email- (QFE) “Scott, no I won't be scheduling a practice between now and wednesday, if indeed the league will finally start on this comming wednesday. To answer all your questions, I have ordered teal jerseys, they run pretty big and I did order extra larges. The name of the team is BY2TB"S, which stands for "beat you to the bar". The jerserys are $20.00 a piece. As far as payment for the league you can write the check out to the WIC. One thing all of us girls are in agreement on is this, athletic men seem to pick the game of hockey up pretty fast, so you will do just fine with us. We considerer ourselves compeititive and are serious about the game. Most of us play two or three times a week with half of that being drills. As soon as I get a schedule I will e-mail it out to everyone. Haven't gotten one yet!! Looking forward to meeting you on Wednesday, ‘Captain'”

So here I go, finally with a team of some athletes that might understand where I am coming from. After all, they had to start at some point, too, and probably experienced more scrutiny than that I would encounter. I showed up the first game without ever even strapping the pads on, figuring my years of wearing football pads would come in handy. Even further, I'd never skated in pads before. I watched the NHL and our beloved Blue Jackets for about a year and a half at this point, and through over 18 sessions of public skate I was starting to feel comfortable in the basics. When I arrived to the rink I was handed an XL jersey with the lucky number 7 on the back. For the record, the size XL doesn't fit over shoulder pads and a 6'4", 270 pound frame very well. At this point I was thinking to myself, “Extracurricular elements don't matter now, I get to play hockey.” The whistle blew and quickly I found that I don't know my rear from the 5-hole on the ice. “Where do I sit on the bench?” I ask myself as some of the girls point and tell me I'm in the wrong place. “Don't hop the boards outside the blue line,” one helpful player advises before I take the ice on my first shift. “Cover the point-man on D, just stay in his face” adds the girl sitting next to me. Later in the game another adds, “You'll be fine, just keep working. I've even seen you progress throughout the game believe it or not. Stick with it.” I was surprised some of these girls genuinely wanted to help.

At one point, I the boards onto the ice for my shift and skated over to the face-off circle on the far side. As soon as I arrived, I fell directly on my bum from what I'd like to believe and explain as rough ice. Or, it could be that I was still a horrible skater? As I was making it back to my feet, I remember looking up at the referee holding the puck. With the look of disappointment in his eyes he was most likely saying to himself, “Get up, I need to get this puck dropped.” After a bit of a struggle I finally made it to nearly upright, only to again swiftly fall on my rear. With everyone still waiting and me on my back, I just started laughing. I'd never been this awful at something in my life, but this was D-League for beginners. These people had to understand where I was coming from, right? The game ended resulting in a spanking at the hands of a team of Central Ohio Firefighters 12-0 (yes, twelve- zip; not a misprint). Although unfortunate to lose, I learned a lot and was drenched in sweat. What a great workout it was. I was ecstatic because hockey would be an enjoyable time and a great replacement sport for football. After shaking hands with the sadists, I made my way towards the exit off of the ice only to cross paths with the “Captain.” She offers some impolite “coaching” and was remarkably disturbed at my inability to contribute in my first game... ever. I felt disturbed I couldn't do more for the team, but really, what did I/they expect? John, a friend of mine who played in the Chiller D-League for a few sessions, assured me they do understand. “My first two sessions I didn't do anything,” he said in a conversation on my way home after the tough loss. “I just skated up and down the ice while they played around me. It'll come.”

Friday arrived and I decided I was going to skate with full pads during open skate. I was about to become “That Guy” everyone finds entertaining at public skate. At first it felt much more difficult to skate with the considerable bulk associated with the bulletproof protection. But what a great choice I made that day. I proceeded to pat myself on the back for the rest of the day, after almost conquering the revered hockey stop in only one hour. When I got back to the office, I immediately sent in my application for the Ohio State University Hockey School for adults. I envisioned it would help tremendously in many other aspects of my shortcomings, and in addition it would provide more ice time in which I would have the opportunity to improve. I would then skate 3 to 4 times per week, more than most that had been playing for quite some time. It was bound to get better very quickly, and I was excited as well as relieved to have a plan.

Sunday morning came in with a beautiful sunrise. I had a new love affair (with something other than my family) and the days seemed even brighter. We had a graduation party to attend in the afternoon, and as I finished some studying for the morning I went to open my email. I noticed an email from the “Captain” in my inbox and eagerly opened it to read its content: (QFE) “Scott: I feel really bad about having to do this, but the team has given me several comments after our first game and I have to cut you from our team. I know you felt horrible when you left Wednesday. I also feel that after a season you will be very good. Its just your first season playing with a team of mostly women is not the best fit. We play at a certain "handicap" anyway. We need every player to be as strong as they can be. I know a lot of guys that started out just like you, but on a all men's or mostly men's team that could better shoulder the limits of a brand new player. We as a 90% women's team don't have that luxury. Please don't give up playing hockey, I feel certain that after a season either playing on a team or when time allows you taking a learn to play hockey class you will be very formidable. If you are still interested I would love to hold a spot for you with our team in the fall. In the meantime I have asked Worthington Ice to hold your check for you, and you can pick it up from them. And I will need the jersey back.You can leave that at the WIC as well. Thanks, ‘Captain'”

What?! Was this some kind of sick joke? I was cut from a recreational hockey team? I'd never been cut from anything before, and I just finished a football career in which I was named All-League and MLFN All-American Defensive End for three straight years. And now I was cut from a women's recreational hockey team? Where did I go wrong? Was I unclear as to how much experience I didn't have? Did she not understand me when I said I have zero experience? Was I really a twelve goal handicap? Did they really think that I was making that much of a negative impact on their place cemented at the bottom of the standings? The Worthington D-League recreational standings are now as important as the NHL who can only accept the best of the best? And as I searched for a team in the fall, why would I ever want to go back to a “tryout” with rude people? Isn't this strikingly similar to getting out of college, looking for a job only to consistently receive the rejection of “I'm sorry, we have to pass on you as a candidate for this position because of your lack of experience.” How am I supposed to get experience when no one will provide the opportunity for me?

I laughed for two straight days. At myself, at them and the seriousness of the issue they had to deal with. I laughed at my initial thoughts from the initial prospect and acceptance of playing on a women's team, and the aftermath that followed. I laughed at the one-shot, one-game try-out I failed to capitalize on to gain a roster spot for your 2006 Stanley Cup Champions. After I finally stopped laughing, I decided I still wanted to play on Wednesday (it became Thursday) and Sunday nights. I'd still go to hockey school, and I'd still skate in full pads on Mondays and Fridays. However, I'd always be the only guy in the history of the world to be cut from a women's recreational athletic team. Oh, well. If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?

Joining that hockey team not only served as a lesson in humility but as a catalyst for an addiction. During the hockey class I realized the importance of learning edges, the balance in taking a shot, where I should be in different situations and many more intricacies that were all key elements in which I hadn't been exposed. Throughout that class I learned drills from folks who had played hockey at the collegiate and professional level, and their approaches provided me with methods to take leaps and bounds instead of baby steps. As I rushed back onto the ice with an exorbitant amount of work ahead, it only intensely focused my attention on required skills instead of wasting energy towards an irrelevant method. I constantly reminded myself of a quote I once read, “Amateurs work on things they are comfortable with, professionals work on things they need to improve upon.” Although difficult to muster enough courage to make a workout effective, I plugged away at gaining confidence in crossing one leg over another, skating backwards and sharp turns. Currently, I still take the ice three to four times per week in games and skill sessions in which I schedule during my lunch at open skates on Tuesday afternoons. I am still long away from possessing all of the necessary ability to be as effective as I want to be, but I continue to take the approach of working on things in which I am not proficient. I now know that skating is much more than striding and holding a stick. Skating is practice (the right things), attitude (to try things), and patience (to earn things). This experience provided me with valuable lessons in life, including a short stint with some less than tolerable cohorts that will constantly remind me what new skaters on my teams are experiencing. So the Monkeys were born, out of comedy and out of necessity. Here's your sacred jersey back, 'Cappy.' Hold on to that so Gretzky can use it when he arrives from Ontario next Wednesday."