Brandon hopes to attend the University of Maryland to major in journalism and statistics (good luck!) A Caps fan since birth, he’ll be out of country for the next few games as he tours Polish concentration camps, and visiting the final resting place of members of his family. So…a young man who understands the corrosive effects of hate and discrimination. 

This video is awful. The way these Caps fans made me feel can only be described as ashamed and embarrassed. This is not what I want people to think of when they think of Caps fans.

I am a straight male millennial. Yes. I am part of “the most privileged generation”. I recognize that. I recognize my “white male privilege”. However, I am also the future. This video is not the future. This is the past. To me, it is the same hate we saw in the 1940’s to the Jews, and in the 1960’s to the African-American community.

I see this hate all the time at school. I hear this kind of language all the time. Every single time I hear it, I tell that person to knock it off. It does not matter if I know them, or if they know me. It also does not matter if the person they said it too is gay or not. It is still offensive.

One of my really good friends is gay. (To me there is also a difference between a “gay friend” and a “friend who is gay”.) He hates the “f” word. Whether it is said to him or not. It is still hateful every time. Even if someone says it as a “joke”. It is not funny. I don`t care if people see me as a party-pooper or as someone who is “trying to make everything PC. I see myself as someone who stands up for those who are too afraid to do it for themselves.

I really hope that as a country, we can start to move forward. This is moving backwards. I am not going to make excuses for these fans. I am also not saying you should punch people in the face for saying this. I am asking you to keep in mind that just because the word might mean something different to you, that does not mean it`s not offensive to the person you are saying it to.

For the argument of “trash talking” I always say, “Trash the team, not the person”. You have no idea what that person has been through in their life, and you have no idea what affects saying these things on that person, investigate this site – SecurityInfo to learn more on how to protect your home.

Your thighs burn every time you take a step, and your hands feel a little tender as you grab that ice cold (and most welcome) beer. Muscles in your neck that you didn’t realize you had hurt for reasons you can’t quite explain. You hope the swelling and bruising go down soon, and you wish you spent a little more time washing the smell of hockey gloves off of your fingers. The water in the shower took too long to warm up, didn’t it? At least the new water softener systems are making showering so much more enjoyable.

The final horn sounds, and champions are crowned in their respective divisions. Some friends and family brought blankets and gloves and shared in the fun. Even the losers are smiling; no one wants to go to work tomorrow.

You curse the heavens as you swing your heavy, wet hockey bag onto your back, wincing as the weight of drenched pads strains your aching muscles. It felt a lot lighter on Friday, and the scale at the airport check-in counter will later confirm your suspicions. Your sticks clank in the bag as you tear it from its comfortable recline against the cold wall, and you reassure everyone you’ll be back next year. You wouldn’t miss it for the world, you say, and you mean it. You hug friends both new and old.

You leave the rink and creatively stuff your bags and sticks in the back of the rental car, suddenly grateful for the hours spent playing Tetris on your graphing calculator. How do people with sedans play this game, you wonder. You climb behind the wheel and map your route back to the airport. Hopefully you’ll pass a gas station on the way. You put your sunglasses on and smile, knowing you could die right then and there and somehow be alright with it. You’re filled with an inexplicable mix of happiness, gratitude, and sorrow, wondering how it’s possible.

It’s just a game.

Hockey and I go way back to when I was a kid, but I didn’t actually get to play until 2008 at the Chelsea Challenge in New York. It’s crazy to think how much of my life can be traced back to what, in the end, is really just a game. Like all relationships, the one I’ve got with hockey has transformed and matured and endured its rough patches, and I’d like to think we’re both better off for it. No matter how I envision my life going forward, hockey always figures in somewhere. It might not have quite the starring role it did in my earlier days, but it’s always there, however indirectly, donning what I imagine is a knowing smile once I put 2 and 2 together in my occasionally scattered brain.

In some ways, this past year has been one of my most varied when it comes to this beloved game. Pittsburgh Gay and Lesbian Hockey, which (mainly) Mike and I founded when we moved here in 2011, has continued to grow and now fosters a true community environment. The people that I’ve met on the team have become friends, and I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to see how happy playing on the team makes us. Sure, my work travels make me miss more games than I’d like for this and my ‘straight’ teams. Yes, we’ve got a wide gap in talent levels, and most games see victory in the form of keeping the opponents’ goal totals in the single digits. But that doesn’t bother me the way it would have when I was 25 because I’ve learned that the gold is found in the experience itself and not the result. It’s a terribly basic lesson, and I’m somewhat ashamed that it took me this long to fully understand and accept it. But when I look up and down the bench, full of players eager for the next shift or with a single soul gasping for breath, I know I’m home. All thanks to a game.

On the other hand, I’ve found myself less at home as a hockey fan. Rather, I think my lease is up and I need to find a new place in hockey fandom that better suits my needs and current situation. Social media can be a wonderful thing, but in the past 12 months or so, I’ve learned that it can also chip away at the joy you once took in being a spectator around 140 characters at a time. Granted, I shoulder a lot of the blame here, and I recognize this. No one’s forcing me to tune into what other folks are saying about this team or that, their analysis (or lack thereof, most often), or their “hot takes,” as the cool kids call ’em.

What I will say is that social media really has an uncanny ability to bring out the ugliest in us, and it’s taken a toll on my ability to enjoy hockey as a fan. I’ve been a participant in the mess, and the more I see it happening, the more I feel like a complete and utter idiot for getting sucked into it as much as I did. Hell, there are times when I still slip right on up, but I recognize it and make a conscious effort not to do it. At the very least, I aim to grow the time between slip-ups, and I think that’s a fair goal on my end.

I’ve taken breaks from Twitter because of hockey, and the temptation comes back every now and again, especially come spring. Sometimes it’s hard not to take things personally when so much of your energy over the span of years has been channeled into a single pursuit. Then again, why take it personally in the first place at all? Why on earth would it even cross your mind to feel a little sting and lash out in response out of weakness and poor judgment? Why do I even entertain the debates in my head about whether or not I’m being a fan in the ‘right’ way, if such a thing even exists?

It’s just a game.

I took the time to write this guest post on PuckBuddys because playing this past weekend in the Madison Gay Hockey Association’s MGHA Classic brought a lot of these feelings to the forefront. I wanted to wonder and think out loud.

At the MGHA classic, everything I just wrote about came together. My boyfriend that I met through hockey played on my team, as did a close friend from New York and another who now lives in Madison. We were able to reconnect through the game that brought us together in the first place, and it was one of the most enjoyable experiences of the past several years.

I also got to meet Tony (@jovenitti), the nice fellow who stepped up to take over covering the Pittsburgh Penguins when I scaled back due to work and the general fandom malaise mentioned above. If this tournament was any indication, I see hockey bringing him the same elation and comfort that it brought me when I started playing.

There’s something beautiful about that.

I’m still walking a little funny, and I entertained the idea of not going to the rink tonight due to my physical condition*. But the more my head told me that I’d be justified in skipping, the more my heart tugged and reminded me I’d regret it if I did. For once, I think I’ll give the heart what it wants without much of a fight. Even if it’s just a game.

*Update: I guess it’s a good thing I decided to play after all. Notched the game-winning goal in the shootout. You’re welcome, straights.

I now know why hockey players golf in the summer. I really don’t know what to do with myself now that hockey is over. Sundays now feel a little empty without MGHA games to keep be busy. So I might start golfing more, just to fulfill the cliche.

But I couldn’t be happier with the way our season ended, as the No. 6 seeded Green Gay Puckers stormed all the way to finish the tournament in 5^th place!

Round 1: Green Gay Puckers vs. Boo-teal-licous

The teal team holds a special place in my heart, as they were the first team I scored against. Granted, I don’t really think it was even my goal, but the ref saw a guy with a beard smack the puck in the net, so I got the goal.

We lit up the Boo-teal-licious goalie for 6 goals in our first game against them, but he came back with a vengeance in the playoffs. The Puckers carried the play throughout the entire game, but we just couldn’t score.

My center, Kevin, hit several posts, and Andrew, Teal’s goalie, stood on his head to make some incredible saves. He even had our bench applauding a few of his saves, he was that good.

But we found ourselves in a hole after giving up two quick goals in the second period. Then, one of our players got knocked down behind the net with three minutes left, and the ref raised his arm.

I thought for sure we were getting a power play. But no, our right wing was sent to the box for checking.

So we stacked our penalty kill with all our best players, and instead of playing defense, we just attacked. The anger from the wrongful penalty spurred some of the best play I’ve ever seen from our team’s veterans and they finally hit the back of the net with two minutes left on a shorthanded goal.

Once the penalty ended, we pulled our goalie and swarmed into the offensive zone. I fed a pass to Kevin with about 6 seconds left on the clock. He let a shot rip that sailed past Andrew in the crease.

He hit the post, and the game was over. The Green Gay Puckers were sent to the loser’s bracket.

Round 2: Green Gay Puckers vs. Puck a L’orange

The orange team has had our number this year. They beat us in both games we played, and their goalie, Ryan, has simply tortured us. He even subbed in for absent goalies in weeks we weren’t even playing the orange team. He’s probably the best goalie in the league, and he’s become a good friend.  It seemed like we were playing against him every week—and he kept beating us. I had so many great chances against him, but I couldn’t bury it.

Since the orange team finished the regular season in second place, I assumed we wouldn’t have to worry about Ryan in the playoffs. But, the Team Formerly Known As Purple Reign somehow knocked off Puck a L’orange in the first round—which sent us on another collision course with the brick wall that was Ryan.

Once again, the Green Gay Puckers came out flying. We’ve become a great puck-possession team. The first five minutes saw more of the same, however, as all of our great chances bounced around in the crease before Ryan smothered the puck.

Then, finally, we got the monkey off our back thanks to Kevin who managed to bury a shot from the slot. We scored again a few minutes later, and we realized that we just might have a chance.

But the orange team came right back with two goals of their own in the second period.

Then, with the second period winding down, my line hopped over the boards and I went right to my favorite spot on the ice.

My friend now calls it the “Tony spot”—it’s about three feet to the right of the crease. I’ve learned that defenders only really try to push me out of the way if I’m right in front of the crease, so I now stand just to the right of it, and people seem to not notice me. Maybe it’s because I’m short.

But anyway, Kevin got the puck into the crease, and Ryan missed it on his covering attempt from the left side. It squired right to my stick and I took a swing. Out of nowhere, an Orange defender came in and blocked my shot with his skate.

“Of course,” I thought.

But I took one more whack at it, and the puck slipped behind the defender and into the net. That one felt good, and I thought it might hold up as the game-winner. But, we gave up a goal early in the third period. Then, with about 5 minutes remaining, I helped cause more havoc in the crease and my linemate Ben swooped in and buried a fourth goal to give us the win.

We don’t get too competitive in the MGHA, but that win felt good. It was the most jovial locker room I’ve ever seen from the Green Gay Puckers. We all came in expecting a loss, which would mean we would be battling to avoid a last-place finish in Round 3, but instead, we found ourselves fighting for 5^th place.

Round 3: Green Gay Puckers vs. Blue Bayou

I really enjoyed playing for the Green Gay Puckers, but if there was one team that exemplified everything good about the MGHA, it was Blue Bayou.

Frankly, Blue Bayou was awful. They wound up with a lot of first-year players who had never played hockey before, including a goalie. They never won a game until February, and only a few times did they even give opponents a scare.

But Blue Bayou was the most fun and most encouraging team on the ice. It was truly a pleasure to watch them play and to play against them.

What they lacked in talent, they made up for in personalities. Some of my best friends wound up on the Blue team, and they are all bright, cheerful and even loud people.

They would frequently start chants on the bench. Whenever their players made even the most mundane plays, they would all stand up and cheer. You could just tell that they all were very good friends off the ice, and they supported each other more than any other team on the ice.

Many a Blue Bayou player told me, “we may not win, but we have the most fun,” and there’s really no denying that.

I don’t even really remember much about the game, even though it was our last game. The Green Gay Puckers won and earned 5^th place, but I just remember having a blast in that game. Both teams got great chances, both teams were yelling and supporting each other, and everyone was simply enjoying themselves.

It was the perfect way to end my first season in the MGHA. This league doesn’t care about anyone’s sexuality, race, gender or age. Hell, we barely care about skill level. If you don’t know how to play, we’ll teach you. I learned so much this year about hockey, but the biggest thing I’ll remember is just how much fun I had.

So here’s to a great season in the MGHA. I can’t wait until next year.

The Summer: Tournament Time

While I’m sad that the MGHA is over for the year, I’ll have plenty of gay hockey to keep me occupied over the summer. First is the MGHA Classic April 26-27 in Madison. We’re inviting players from all over the country to come play.

And I’ll be playing in New York City gay league’s Chelsea Challenge over Memorial Day weekend, which just so happens to coincide with Fleet Week.

So stay tuned for some offseason updates in my Gay Hockey Diary.

If you have any questions about the MGHA or life in general, feel free to email me.

That was fast.

There’s a weird paradox that comes with a long hockey season, especially when it was my first one. The time flies, and it seems like yesterday that I first strapped on all my gear for my first game. Yet, at the same time, you can’t help but improve so rapidly that it seems like years ago when I was such a noob that I could barely skate backward.

But, as the regular season ended, I found myself beating some of the league’s better players in battles for the puck and even getting some quality chances on goal that were the result of hard work, and not just dumb luck.

And perhaps the most impressive part of this season is not just seeing how much I’ve improved,  but also seeing how much other beginners have improved.

 Hockey shape

When I played in my first-ever scrimmage last spring, I was so out of shape, I was dead tired after my first shift—dreading the moment that I had to hop over the boards again and skate up and down the ice.

Eight months later, I now dread the moment that my line has to get off the ice and sit on the bench. I want to take more shifts, and when I’m sitting on the bench I find myself urging the line before me to change so I can jump back over the boards.

After those first few scrimmages, I realized just how out of shape I was, so I started exercising regularly and eating healthy. And magically, I was less and less tired as the season wore on. I became a faster skater, and I could keep it up for longer shifts. It’s a baffling concept, really, that simple diet and exercise can work wonders, I will be posting bellow, this helpful guide that aided me during my health kick, in hopes that it can help others.

I even found myself heading to the rink early some weeks, hoping to fill in as a sub for some other games so I could play more than one game. After my first time on the ice last spring, I never would have imagined that I would soon be playing two games in two hours without passing out.

I’m able to skate and keep up with some of the better players in the league, and I can get in good position and win some puck battles along the boards.

Now, if only I could stick-handle and lift my shot higher than my ankles. There’s always room for improvement, I guess.

What a difference a year six months makes

Speaking of improvements, I certainly wasn’t the only one who picked up speed, strength and skill over the course of the season. Every player got a little better, but the most impressive and inspiring improvements came from players who had never even skated before signing up for the MGHA.

There were a few players who could barely stand up on the ice in October, and when the puck came to them, they would just fall down. In other hockey leagues, his teammates would get mad as the other team stole the puck and scored on a breakaway.

But that’s not how things work in the MGHA. Everyone encouraged those players, and cheered when they made the simplest of plays. And I mean everyone—everyone on his team’s bench, everyone in the crowd and even everyone on the opposing team’s bench. It’s really inspiring how encouraging this league is.

Early in the season, I mentioned that one of those players found it hard to take compliments and encouragement when he knows he’s not very good. Last week, that player was able to skate the puck into the zone and get a shot on net.

Both benches cheered him on the whole way.

On to the playoffs

The Green Gay Puckers finished the season 4-8-1, and now we’ll head into the playoffs. Predictably, no team is ever really eliminated in the MGHA’s playoffs. All eight teams play for three weeks, with the final week of the postseason featuring games for 7^th place, 5^th place, 3^rd place and finally culminating in the championship game.

If you’re in Madison, we’d love to see you come out and support the league on championship night, March 23.

Go Puck, Go!

If you have any questions about the MGHA or life in general, feel free to email me of hit me on twitter.

I’ve always enjoyed winter. While my mother threatened a move to Florida at least twice a week from November through April, I just wanted it to snow more.

Yet, growing up in the mountains in Pennsylvania, there weren’t many ponds or lakes that would freeze. Sure, the river would occasionally freeze over, but never enough to skate on it. That’s probably one of the biggest reasons I never picked up hockey until this year.

So, now that I can actually call myself a hockey player in a town with tons of lakes and ponds, I found myself looking forward to the cold weather even more than usual. Lucky for me, the ponds froze earlier than usual this year.

I could sense a little buzz among the members of the Madison Gay Hockey Association as the temperatures sank below the almighty 32 degree threshold. Once we got word that Tenney Park—a pond on the northeastern edge of the isthmus in Madison—was open for business, I finally got my first taste of real, Wisconsin pick-up pond hockey.

A few members from the MGHA set up a time to meet. I texted a few of my straight friends who also love hockey, and—after putting on a few extra layers to brace the Wisconsin cold—we headed toward the pond.

Tenney Park is a magical place, really. It’s a huge, U-shaped pond that’s probably big enough for nine or 10 NHL-sized rinks. They plow the snow and clean the ice every day. Don’t ask me how they do it (I prefer to believe they have a magical Zamboni), but there’s always a decently fresh sheet of ice in the morning. They even put a handful of nets on the ice, so you can play a full game if you find a goalie or two.

There’s a warming shelter where you can rent skates. And it’s usually full of a wide range of people—parents helping their children put on tiny skates, couples getting ready for a romantic skate and of course, hockey players tightening up their laces.

Once we got on the ice, we warmed up a bit shooting into one of the nets. Then, a friend just went over to another group that was doing the same thing on a different net and asked if they wanted to start a game using both nets. Since we didn’t have any goalies, we flipped the nets over so that we were shooting into a much smaller area. Then, we threw our sticks in the middle of the ice.

After my friend blindly divvied up the sticks, we took our sides and started playing.

If this were a movie, this would be the part where a lighthearted song played in the background as a montage appeared on the screen featuring guys and girls smiling, smacking the puck, attempting to stickhandle around each other, scoring into empty nets and even falling down, laughing.

That’s really what it feels like—a movie montage, or a CBC intro to an outdoor NHL game.

And much like our league, the people on the ice may have wildly varying skill levels, but they try their best to make sure teams are even. When my friend Ben—who has been playing most of his life and can stickhandle quite well—wound up on a team with a high school player with similar abilities, they both agreed that one should switch to the other team.

And if there’s a player who is just learning the game, the experienced ones will do their best to pass them the puck on offense or give them a little space on defense.

Basically, pick-up pond hockey is very much like the MGHA. Nobody cares about where you came from, what you look like or your sexuality, we are all just there to play the game. Of course, most of the people on the ice are straight, but I’ve yet to encounter a problem. Maybe it’s just because I live in a very liberal city.

In fact, on New Year’s Day, my gay friend and I were playing on a team with two alpha-male type college guys, who play on their college’s club team. A very attractive family skated by, and both the mom and the dad could be considered a MILF and a DILF, respectively.

The two straight guys looked at each other and said, “That mom is hot!” My friend and I looked at each other and said, “That dad is hot!”

The guys looked at us for a quick second, laughed and then passed me the puck to start the breakout.

That’s what pond hockey is all about. It’s about playing the game you love with friends and strangers who also love the game. It’s about getting a nice workout in the open, chilly air. It’s about calling your own infractions and helping your opponents up if they fall.

And it’s about bringing people together who probably would not otherwise have a reason to talk to each other.

So if you have a chance to go play a game of pick-up hockey, go do it this winter.

That said, it’s way too cold for pond hockey this week.

If you have any questions about the MGHA or life in general, feel free to email me.

I can’t imagine how adults learn to play hockey if they don’t have a league like the Madison Gay Hockey Association. And I now understand why so many straight people have joined the MGHA.

Too often, in regular adult hockey leagues, beginners can’t even find a team to play on. If they do manage to find a team—through a friend or coworker—they probably won’t receive much coaching. Then, they may even receive ridiculed for their lack of skill. And opponents certainly wouldn’t play down to their level to help them out.

And I certainly wouldn’t expect to experience a show of good sportsmanship like I saw in Week 3 of MGHA games.

After our Week 2 win, we all received an unfortunate e-mail from Nikki, the Green Gay Puckers goalie. She was playing in a women’s league during the week and heard a “pop” in her knee. That’s never good.

Luckily, she’s only out a few weeks. But that left our team without a goalie, so we had to poach some substitutes from the other teams.

In Week 2, the Green Gay Puckers racked up 6 goals against Andrew, Boo-teal-licous’ goalie. The very next week, he stepped up, donned a green jersey for us…and pitched a shutout.

He was visibly upset with his poor play against us in Week 2, yet he was able to put all that aside and make save after save as our team had a pretty poor defensive performance against the blue team. Yet, thanks to the goalie that allowed my first (maybe-kinda-sorta) goal, we earned a 3-0 victory

It’s a Challenge

After three weeks of games, we took a break from our regularly scheduled programming and played challenge games. MGHA challenge games are a chance for people to play only with other players at their skill level. We play a beginner, intermediate and advanced game.

I signed up for the beginners’ game, and it was very refreshing to play a slower pace. For once, when I got the puck, I had time to think about what I wanted to do with it before someone came and stole it. I was even able to carry the puck around defenders and go on a few breakaways.

Of course, the goalies stoned me on my breakaways, because I still can’t quite lift the puck, but it was a fun change of pace.

Over thanksgiving, we had more challenge games, and I once again played in the beginner’s game. This time, I was playing defense. It was the first time I’ve defended, and I’m still not too great at skating backward.

However, I think I may have a knack for it. I can skate fast to smack the puck away from an opponent. And even though I can’t do much puck handling, I’ve become pretty good at clearing the puck out of the defensive zone – probably because the minute I get the puck, I panic and get rid of it.

My first real goal

Week 4 found the Green Gay Puckers facing off against the gray team, Salty. Krystal – a former NCAA player – skates for the gray team, and she quickly scored one of her allotted two goals. Late in the second period, with the Green Gay Puckers trailing 1-0, Patrick—the MGHA founder— was playing defense and fed a pass to the neutral zone, but his teammate missed it.

Patrick had already skated up to the neutral zone, but I pounced on the loose puck and got ahead of him. I knew he would be right behind me, but I skated as hard as I could and carried the puck toward the goalie. I wanted to carry it in a little closer, but I could feel Patrick gaining on me. I was about to shoot when two sticks surged forward and smacked the puck away as I shot it.

I was really bummed I didn’t get the shot off, but then Patrick and the other defender skated right past me without taking the puck with them. My failed shot attempt forced the goalie to move to the near side of the net to try to make the save. When I noticed that the puck was still there, I took a swing and shot it far side, right past the goalies’ skate and into the net.

That goal was way more satisfying than the my first one, as it knotted the game at the end of the second period.

Then, we promptly gave up two more goals and lost 3-1. But it was still a fun night—especially since some of my friends from work were nice enough to come cheer me on (after I told them that the rink was BYOB, of course).

I can feel myself getting better and better each week. And I am definitely getting into much better shape. I was able to play for two hours last weekend, when before I couldn’t even play 10 minutes without having trouble breathing. I now understand the term “hockey shape.”

What’s really helped is the encouragement and the instruction from some of the veteran players. They honestly love the game and just want to help spread that love. They don’t care if they win or lose—though, they always want everyone to try hard—they just want people to have fun.

I don’t know where else I could have found that.

If you have any questions about MGHA or life in general, feel free to email me.

We played some scrimmages over the summer, which was a good way for me to get my feet wet and start learning. But now, the season is underway. The MGHA is firmly cemented as the largest gay hockey league in the country. This year, we have 120 players and eight teams.

Whenever I tell someone that I play in the gay hockey league, the reaction usually starts out with laughter at the fact that such a thing exists. I don’t really know if I should find that offensive or not, but when they realize that I’m serious, people usually think it’s a great idea for a hockey league.

Last time, I wrote about how accepting and encouraging the MGHA is toward new players. Many of the first-year players have never even skated before—and some of the new players still can’t really skate. But that doesn’t stop everyone from encouraging new players, even when they perform as simple of a task as getting back onsides.

That concept can be baffling at first, and one of the new players on my team said it’s a little jarring to hear someone tell him he’s doing a great job after he falls down and forces the play offside. “The hardest thing about this league is learning how to take a compliment,” he said. I think that says a lot about the MGHA.

Over the next few months, I’ll chronicle my experiences throughout my first season in the MGHA.

The Green Gay Puckers

In September, we held a few clinics for new players to get used to skating and help us learn the basics of hockey. But the real fun began at the end of September with our player evaluation scrimmages.

One of the biggest goals for the MGHA is parity in team selection. You don’t sign up for the league with a particular team, and team captains can’t just pick their friends or the best players. Each team is divided up based on skill level. So, in order to determine what skill level each player is, the MGHA brings in actual scouts to watch scrimmages.

I wanted to work as hard as I could during the scrimmage, but I didn’t want to get too lucky and give them an overrepresentation of my mediocrity. But I feel like my scrimmage depicted my skills well—I can skate reasonably well and get into good position, but once the pass comes to me, my inferior puck-handling skills become wildly apparent.

After the scrimmages, all of the captains met to divvy up the teams. Each team is then assigned a color, and I soon learned that I would be playing on the green team with Johannes— our team captain and one of the league’s better defensemen. He’s also a fascinating person. He’s a jazz musician and professor, and he used to play in the NYC Gay Hockey Association.

The first task for each team is to come up with a team name. And when you put a bunch of LGBT people together and ask them to name something, you’re going to get puns. The teal team is Boo-teal-licious. Orange is Puck a l’Orange. But my team’s name is by far the best: The Green Gay Puckers.

The thing that impressed me most before the season started was just how well the MGHA fosters an inclusive environment. Before our first practice, we went around the locker room and introduced ourselves. The introductions included the standards—our names and how long we’ve been playing. But then, Johannes asked everyone to state their preferred gender pronouns. I thought it was a great way to make sure everyone felt accepted.

The Games Begin

The MGHA has five hours of ice time at a local rink every Sunday night, which means all eight teams play every week. During Week 1, the first game of the season pitted the Green Gay Puckers against Puck a l’Orange.

We threw some lines together the week prior at our second of two team practices, and we decided that we would keep those lines together for at least the first few games to see how they mesh. I was placed on right wing with Kevin, one of the league’s best centers, and Ben, a fast skater with good puck-handling skills. This became our team’s top line, so we headed toward center ice after a loud team chant of “Mother Puckers!”

Here I was, playing in my first-ever organized hockey game, starting on the top line. I still don’t know how that happened.

The puck dropped and Kevin won the faceoff. After some initial struggles with the Orange team’s defense, he worked the puck over to Ben on the left wing and we got a little space. Before the game started, Kevin looked at me and said, “Go to the net.” So I did just that.

I skated hard toward the net. Nobody covered me as I headed straight toward the crease. Kevin had the puck in the left corner and fed a perfect pass toward me in the slot. Ryan, Puck a l’Orange’s goalie, lunged toward me and left the entire upper part of the net exposed.

When the puck arrived, I took a swing and heard a loud “ooooh” from the benches and the stands—I completely missed.

The puck skittered to the right corner and their defense cleared the zone. I didn’t score—hell, I didn’t even get a shot on goal—but I had a taste of what a good offensive chance felt like, and I wanted more.

Unfortunately for the Green Gay Puckers, Ryan is a great goalie. My line had chance after chance like the play I described above, and even when I did get the shot off from a great pass, Ryan robbed me at least four times. Puck a l’Orange went on to win 4-0, but the Green Gay Puckers started to form their identity as a team with good forechecking and offensive zone-possession.

Week 2: My first “goal”

The second week of games featured the league’s two best puns going head to head. As we squared off against Boo-teal-licious. The Teal team features some great talent at forward and defense, as well as a solid goaltender.

Once again, my line started the game, and we set the tone well for the Green Gay Puckers. We had some great chances in the first period, as we are quickly perfecting a play that the Penguins’ top line—Chris Kunitz, Sidney Crosby and Pascal Dupuis—often employs. Kevin and Ben carry the puck into the zone and work toward the left side of the ice. I’m usually a little bit slower across the blue line, so the defenders are drawn toward the left side. I just skate hard to the net and arrive at the same time the puck does.

Boo-teal-licious’ defense quickly caught on, though, and finally started to cover me. We still got some great, scrambling chances in the crease. But it wasn’t until the second period when we finally scored our first goal of the season.

Our line had a typical play, and I found my way into the crease. This time, however, there were a lot of teal jerseys in front, so my stick got lifted and the puck bounced around a bit. It took a stab at the puck when I finally found it, and it bounced off the goalies’ pads to the left side of the crease. Kevin came in and took a whack at it, which was also blocked. This went on for some time, with all of us stabbing at the puck until it finally found the back of the net.

I really have no idea what happened, and I honestly thought Kevin put it in. But the ref skated over to the scorer’s box and said No. 6 scored the goal. Then, I heard a wonderful mispronunciation of my name as they announced my goal. I don’t know how it happened, but I guess I’ll take it.

Later in the period, we scored again, and this time it made more sense. I was in the defensive zone when the puck found its way to my stick. I smacked it toward the side boards, hoping to just clear the zone. However, Kevin found my “pass” and went on a breakaway. He beat the goalie, top-shelf, and gave the Green Gay Puckers a 3-0 lead.

In the third period, we tried to play conservatively to hold the lead. However, we don’t really know how to do that, and the score quickly became 3-2, with 2:30 left on the clock. Johannes told us all to play nothing but defense for the rest of the game. It didn’t quite play out that way.

My line took the ice with defense on our minds, but once we got the puck, defense quickly gave way to an attack. And Kevin swooped around the left side and buried another goal to give us a safe lead.

We were really lucky that I got credit for the first goal, because in the MGHA, the top-tier players are only allowed to score two goals per game. If they score a third, it doesn’t count. That’s just another way the MGHA tries to encourage new players. But, unless it’s a tight game in the third period, the advanced-level players typically just try to feed the puck to the newbies anyway.

We wound up scoring a few more times to put the game away, and the Green Gay Puckers defeated Boo-teal-licious 6-2.

After two weeks of games, I feel like I’m finally finding a groove and I’m realizing that hockey is even more fun than I ever imagined it would be. It’s even better now that I’m in a little better shape than when I started last summer—I’m no longer dying after each shift.

When I went to the stands to meet my friends, the first thing they told me—after congratulating me on my “goal” of course—was that I have the biggest smile, from ear-to-ear, when I’m out on the ice.

Sounds about right.

If you have any questions about MGHA or life in general, feel free to email me.

People who routinely read my PuckBuddy’s posts know that the Red Wings are my primary team. The team I root for no matter what. The team I’ve been a fan of for nearly forty years and will forever more. However, I also have major love for the Penguins that goes back to the mid-80s.

So why is my debut novel, Hat Trick, set outside Pittsburgh rather than somewhere near Detroit? The primary reason had to do with where Simon and Alex, the two high school seniors in love at the heart of Hat Trick, want to go to college. Simon has a deep desire to get far away from home. Since I’m a fan of Wolverines hockey, it made sense for Michigan to be the target school.

I definitely needed the guys near an NHL team I loved. What makes a better date than a hockey game? (As a PuckBuddys exclusive, you can check out a Hat Trick excerpt featuring their Penguins game date at the bottom of this post.) Having them near a major city was a plus too, not only to go to the game, but to do a few other things.

One of the trips Simon and Alex take is one that I particularly loved writing. The guys get a visit from some players from the Pittsburgh Gay Hockey Association. The Pittsburgh guys invite Simon and Alex to scrimmage with them.

Back when I first wrote those scenes, 2006-07, there was no such thing in Pittsburgh. Happily in March 2012, Mike and Adam got Pittsburgh Gay Hockey off the ground and players took the ice together for the first time. Suddenly the group in the book existed in reality and that was great. I’ve had the privilege to play with the guys from Pittsburgh a couple of times and they are awesome.

Finally, the Simon and his friends needed to be in the North so they could have a pond to play on. The pond helps illustrate how close the seniors on the hockey team are. They’ve played pond hockey for years and, as soon as it’s cold enough they are out there getting it ready for the season.

The way high school hockey works in Pennsylvania was appealing for the story too. For state championships, the state is divided into two and one side plays for the Penguins Cup and the other for the Flyers Cup. It makes the contest all the more impressive that you get a cup and then go on to play for the state championship title.

Now you’ve got the insight on why Pittsburgh.

If you want to read the rest, please pick up a copy of Hat Trick. It’s available from several online retailers in both ebook and paperback. You can learn more about the book at HatTrickNovel.com. Also, for each copy sold, I’m donating one dollar to You Can Play so they keep doing the important work they do.

And now, here’s the Hat Trick excerpt:

“Okay, I get we’re headed towards Pittsburgh. When are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

Alex clearly planned something elaborate for this date. All he said I needed to do to prepare was to wear something comfortable, but mildly dressy. I went for black jeans and a dark beige sweater with my letter jacket over the top. Alex wore dark blue jeans, a maroon sweater, and his letter jacket. We looked good together.

It was early, too. If I judged right, we’d be in Pittsburgh a little after six, if that was where we were going. There were plenty of towns between Dawson and there. Of course, we might be going past Pittsburgh, too.

Alex took one hand off the wheel and wrapped it around mine, resting our hands on my leg.

“Patience. The night’s planned and I think you’re going to like it.”

It was usually on me to plan with Tricia, so it was nice that someone else made the plan. I so badly wanted to know what was going on. I also knew it meant a lot to him to throw this surprise for me.

Once we crossed the Pittsburgh city limits, I started asking questions again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s up? Maybe I need to prepare or something?”

“Prepare what? You’re sitting in a car, silly. Besides, do you think I’d let you go into something unprepared?”

“No. Of course not.”

He was right. I knew he’d take care of me. I scanned the highway signs for clues, but there were too many options.

“Have I mentioned I’m not a big fan of surprises?”

“I’ve heard something about that, yes.” He shot me a wicked grin as he exited the highway. “But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up the secret.”

I punched him on the shoulder.

“Jerk.”

“We’ll see if you still feel that way when we’re done.”

As if on cue, we pulled into a garage that serviced the Consol Energy Center.

“Oh man, are we going where I think we’re going?” I asked, the excitement in my voice unmistakable.

Alex reached inside his jacket and handed over a small envelope.

“Depends on where you think we’re going.”

In the envelope were two tickets for ridiculously good seats to the Penguins/Rangers game that was starting at seven.

“Oh my God! Do you know how good these seats are?” I was practically screaming in the car.

“Yeah. My dad gets them for clients, and for me and him sometimes. I asked him if he could swing a pair for a Saturday and he got these quicker than I expected.”

“This has to be the coolest date ever.”

Once he had the car parked, I leaned over, turned his head towards me, and kissed him. I didn’t care if anyone saw.

“Thank you,” I said.

As we walked into the arena, I took in everything. It was incredible to see so many food options and kiosks to buy Pens stuff. I’d never been to a game in person, so it was all new. I vibrated with excitement. I was on a date, a real date, and he brought me to a Penguins game. To top it off, we went down to the tenth row, just off of center ice.

“I had no idea my boyfriend was so well connected,” I said as we sat down.

The Penguins and Rangers were doing warm-ups and the arena was filling up.

“I love seeing you this excited. It makes me…”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” we were interrupted by a waiter. “Here are the menus for this evening. My name is Brian, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I bring you anything while you look these over?”

“Just a couple of Cokes for now, please,” Alex said.

“Sure. I’ll get those right to you. If you need anything, I’ll be around in the section, or standing up top there.” He pointed back to the top of the section.

“Thanks,” we said at the same time.

“You know you’re practically bouncing out of that seat, right?”

He was obviously pleased that he’d pulled off such a good surprise.

“I can’t help it. My first live Penguins game. Our first out-of-town date. It’s so perfect.”

Alex laughed. “You’re so cute.”

“Do you come here with your dad a lot?” I struggled to calm down a bit.

“Yeah. We do it a couple times a year. It’s great to see everything this close. Much better than on TV.”

“Here you are, two Cokes.” The waiter gave us the drinks. “Can I get you anything else?”

“I’d like a burger cooked well with fries, please,” Alex said.

“I’ll go for two hot dogs and a pretzel, please.”

“You got it. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” The waiter smiled and headed up the stairs.

We watched the players go through their warm-ups.

“Do you ever think about playing pro?” I asked while keeping my eyes on the players skating.

“I used to. I know I want to play in college. I can’t imagine not playing because I love it. But pro…I doubt it. I’d have to practice a lot more than I do. Look at the guys out there. Some of them were on skates when they were just three or four. I started when I was six and it’s not like I work at it every waking moment. What about you?”

“Jackson got me playing when we were seven because we both got ice skates for Christmas. He got a stick, too, so I had to get one. Leo, Aaron, David, and Doug started playing the year before. I want to be good enough for a scholarship. I need that so I can get away from home, far away if I can.”

“I’d like a scholarship, too. But, I try not to think about that, you know? It’s daunting. All the applications are in; scholarship forms filled out. It’s a waiting game now.”

I sighed, overwhelmed at how he made it all sound.

“Yeah, same here. What are the chances we’ll end up somewhere together? That would be awesome.”

“Well, I’ve got applications in at Penn, Michigan, NYU, and Maine. The search revolved around hockey and engineering. Hopefully I picked right.”

“So it’s possible we could be on the same campus. I’m looking at political science programs and I’ve applied to Penn, NYU, and Michigan, too, plus Boston and Skidmore. My dad will flip if I end up anywhere but Penn. He’s set on that one. I’m set on any one but that.”

Brian returned with the food.” Here you go, guys. Enjoy. That’ll be $20 even.”

I reached for my wallet, but Alex had his out and paid before I could do anything. Brian went off to see some people who’d just arrived.

“Tonight is my treat, so put that away,” he said, rejecting the money I was trying to give him.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely,” he said as he put mustard on his burger.

“So how’d you end up in hockey? I would’ve thought you’d have gone to football because of your brother’s success.”

I finished my hot dog prep while working on my answer.

“I try to distance myself from Zack as much as possible. My dad wanted me to play football, but I was never into it. The game’s too slow. Hockey moves fast and I love that. Besides, no way I wanted to play with Zack. If I can be the polar opposite of Zack, I’m happy. Certainly having a boyfriend helps that.”

I grinned at the thought.

“Ooooh, so I’m just a way to get back at your brother?”

Sarcasm was loud and clear in his voice. A wink quickly followed.

“Absolutely.”

I bumped my leg against his; yet another hug that wasn’t a hug.

“Have I seen your parents at games?” he asked. “You should point them out sometime.”

“My mom comes a lot. She takes a couple hours off for the afternoon games and she’s always at the night games. My dad comes less. He says it’s harder for him to get away.”

“My parents have the same problem, especially since my dad works down here a few days a week.”

I took a drink to give me a break to decide if I was going to keep going about family. If we were going to be together, he needed to hear it all eventually.

“My dad always made Zack’s games, no matter the time or the place. He made sure my mom went and I was usually forced to go, too. I try not to care about Zack’s position as golden child, but it still gets me sometimes. My grades are better. I play a sport I’m good at. I think I’m headed to a better college. Zack has his special place with my dad, though. If Zack wasn’t such an asshole it wouldn’t be so bad, but he milks his position. And, he’s always tries to make sure I don’t forget I’m his little brother.”

I chomped on my hot dog to let Alex know that I’d finished talking.

“That sucks,” he said. “I pushed us into a serious moment there.”

“‘S okay,” I said, washing the dog down. “You might as well know the ins and outs of my family. Beside, I’m outta here next fall and it won’t matter anymore.”

“Cheers to that,” Alex said, raising his drink.

We hit the two plastic cups together. He said “clink,”which added the right goofiness to it.

As the game started, we got into being loud Penguins fans. They scored the first goal and owned the game from there. During intermissions we dissected plays and talked about replicating them, or trying to, for our own games. Our legs touched for nearly the entire game. I liked the contact with him. Before the third period started, Brian returned to check on us, having brought us way too much food over the past two hours.

“Okay guys, last call. Concession stand is open until the end of the game, but the club service wraps up at the start of the third. Can I get you anything else?”

We looked at each other, then at Brian, and at the same time said, “Ice cream.”

“Vanilla crunch for me,” Alex said.

“Strawberry, please.”

“Good choices. Great way to end the night. Be back in a second.”

He zipped quickly up the stairs.

“We’re going to finish each other’s sentences soon, aren’t we?” I said.

“I think so. I thought it usually took longer than a couple weeks to start that.”

“Here you go. Vanilla crunch and strawberry.” He handed us our bars. Alex reached for his wallet, but Brian stopped him. “Nope. This one is on the house.”

“Cool. Did we miss some kind of giveaway or something?” Alex asked.

“Nope. I just wanted to.” Brian sat down on the stair next to Alex. “You guys have been fun tonight. Besides, what better way to end a game date than with free ice cream?”

Alex looked over at me with a confused look. I shrugged.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“You work around this many people,” Brian gestured with his hand at the crowd, “you know who’s on a date, who’s here with friends, with family.”

It was awesome we clicked so well, but it scared me that it was so obvious. Maybe we let our defenses down too much since we were out of town. Brian picked up on my concern.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay,” I said quickly. “It’s just…surprising. It didn’t seem like we were doing anything but watching the game and hanging out.”

“I doubt anyone else picked up on it. People tend to miss what’s right in front of them.” Brian looked behind us, scanning the crowd. “See the server over in section 110?” Brian pointed so we knew where to look.

There was a tall blonde guy serving drinks. When he turned around, he saw us looking and waved. I smiled and waved, as did Alex and Brian.

“That’s my boyfriend, Adam. Maybe that’s how I figured it out, because I have a man of my own.”

“That’s cool. How long?” Alex asked.

“Almost two years. What about you guys?”

“Couple of weeks,”I said.

“Cool. See, even more of a reason to get free ice cream.” The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the third period. “I’ll let you guys get back to the game. Enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Thanks, Brian,” I said.

“Yeah, thanks. It was great to meet you,” Alex said.

“You guys, too. Hope to see you at another game some time.” Brian headed up the stairs to clear the aisle as the game got underway.

“That was freaky. I didn’t know we were that obvious.” I said it as much to myself as to Alex.

When I’d told Jackson, it was a deliberate move that revealed the truth. Here I thought we were playing it cool. Did this mean we weren’t hiding that well at school either? Or when we’d been out in Dawson?

“Me either. I like it, though.” Alex bumped his leg against mine and I didn’t hesitate to bump back. “I don’t mind people knowing I’m with you. Besides, it’s not like we plan to hide forever, right?”

He said forever! Yay! Yes, it’d only been two weeks, but it was the best two weeks ever. I was definitely in love, but I hadn’t said it yet. I didn’t want to jinx anything. Alex hadn’t said it yet either, but the idea of “forever” along with the talk of maybe going to college together was great.

“I know. It’s just…” I heard the frustration in my own voice, and didn’t like it. “Sorry. You know what? It’s cool. It’s one thing to keep ourselves hidden at home, it shouldn’t matter here.”

I grabbed Alex’s hand and held it in mine.

Suddenly, the crowd erupted around us as the Penguins scored. We jumped up to join the celebration. Twelve minutes later the game was done and the Penguins finished on top 4-2.

“That was a great game and a perfect date.”

“And we’re not done yet,” Alex said.

More? What more could there be? It was already an incredible night.

“Yes, that’s right. There’s more to do in Pittsburgh than hockey.”

“Cool. I don’t suppose you’re going to give me any clues.”

“Of course not. The look on your face as we got here was great. I’d like to see what happens with the next destination.”

A lot of these teams should be playing (and have, in many cases) in C and sometimes even B League, and, as y’all readers know, we’re an island of misfit and (mostly) gay toys that has parts and pieces of varying skill levels and rustiness. Some games were a battle to put a single goal on the board.

Some games were a battle to clear the puck out of our own zone. Some, it seems, were a battle to hop over the boards because of the burning legs and lungs that can be attributed to a short bench on a late night.

Instead, the roar can be heard and felt in our locker room, for starters. A couple of weeks ago, I was lacing up my right skate and stopped to take it all in. Here was a group of strangers that was laughing, talking, trading stories, and dancing to the music blaring from the iPod player one of our players so graciously brought with her. In a short period of time, we really bonded and became a family of sorts, and that night in the locker room made that crystal clear. No more awkward, shy hellos as people trickled into the room — this time it’s jokes about that whiffed clearing attempt, losing an edge at center ice, falling over the boards when coming on for a line change. Say what you will, but I like to think we just might have the most fun, social locker room I’ve ever been in. It might be the best one in all of gay hockey.

The roar is also felt on the ice, in perhaps unexpected or under-appreciated ways. Despite not winning many games, we never have had a negative attitude on the bench. No matter what the score, what the situation, we’re always supporting each other. We congratulate each other on jobs well done, even if it’s simple as a nice outlet pass. We tap our sticks when our goalie bails us out (yet again). We bump fists and thank people for their hard work in the corners.

We smile. We laugh and we smile.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m probably the most intense and competitive player on our squad (Those to whom this comes as a surprise, party of zero — your table’s ready). My perfectionism sometimes gets the best of me, and I realize I’m far too hard on myself out there (as in everything else, really, but this ain’t Sally Jesse Raphael so we won’t even go there). But when I skate back to the bench and curse myself out en français, I realize that no one is pointing any fingers at me. No one’s pointing fingers at anyone else, either. Everyone’s just happy to be playing the game that we all love so much, the game that some stopped playing because they weren’t comfortable being who they were in their locker rooms and with their teammates. That roars louder than a winning record right now.

We hope that the roar is heard outside of the rink, too. We’ll be marching in Pittsburgh’s Pride in early June, and we’re hopeful that we’ll get most of our skaters to participate. This might be the first time that a gay hockey team has participated in Pittsburgh’s Pride, for all I know. But, really, it doesn’t matter if we’re the first — the goal is that we’re not the last. We want to grow and develop our community and let folks in Pittsburgh (and beyond) know that we’re here to stay, we’re here to play, and, yes, we are, indeed, gay.

And if you’ve got a problem with that, Brooks Orpik and his piercing gaze would like to have a word with you.

Ed. note: After filing his copy, Adam reports that on Sunday night, the Tigers lost to the Hounds in the first round of the playoffs, 7-4. A first round exit by a Pittsburgh team isn’t all that unheard of actually.

PB: What’s your hockey background? Ever play?
Bill: I am the tall blond in the white jersey you see NEVER skating in the video. That’s how good I am.

PB: Where did the idea for this spring from?
Bill: It’s based on a true story. It was filmed back in 08 actually after the story came out. It was for a show I wrote and produced that ran on TBS’s Super Deluxe website. I filmed over 150 episodes of real news stories made into funny videos… well I hoped were funny. 

PB: Are you gay? If not, do you want to be?
Bill: I am not gay but I’d like to be. There is no better way to double your wardrobe than dating a guy who is your size. 

PB: If not, we’re going to call you an ally, unless you have another clever euphimism you’d like us to use instead. 
Bill: Being from LA and having several gay friends I’m often referred to as the token straight guy. 

PB: What are the plans for a full length feature?
Bill: I’d love to see Gay Miracle on Ice in Space

PB: Can we get Associate Producer credit?
Bill: Sounds like you’re a financial backer?

PB: After that runaway success, maybe a  sequel?
Bill: I think Miracle on Ice 2: The Electric Bugaloo

PB: Will you promise the sequel won’t suck like Godfather III or all those Star Wars one did?
Bill: I can’t promise my lunch won’t suck… so there’s that. 

PB: Are you really a vicious homophobe in disguise?
Bill: I think the only thing I truly hate… and would rally against it… is pineapple on pizza

PB: A fave team?  Will you be a Caps fan? Or just fake it?
Bill: Sure… the Caps it is!