An Ode to the Junior Hockey Player

by 10 years ago

Since most BroBible readers are from the Northeast, it surprises me that hockey isn’t discussed more on the site. One particular level of hockey that I’m sure many of our readers have experienced, or know someone who has, is junior hockey.

I played for a certain team in the southern New Hampshire in the AJHL (yeah, I know everyone who played in the EJ is going to comment on how the AJ sucks and the EJ is better [even though my team beat the Jr. Monarchs and Jr. Bruins], but that’s not the point of this article) during the ’06-’07 season. I thought I’d use this space to share the experience of playing juniors, as I’m sure there’s got to be some readers out there that are considering taking this route.

First off, hockey players are animals. And, to the hockey player, that’s a compliment.

 

Hockey players will do anything, no matter how absurd, bizarre, or disgusting to get with a girl. And girls, if you hook up with a hockey player, don’t kid yourself: anything and everything you do with him will be discussed in full detail with the entire team (and probably the coaching and training staff) the next day in the locker room. The crazier the story, the better. One particular story that I remember is a trip to Connecticut and a team dinner at Applebee’s. Our goalie brings the waitress back to the hotel, and upon seeing her there, our captain says to her face: “Is it true that fat chicks give better head because they’re hungry?” The next day in the locker room before our game, the goalie informed everyone that no, fat chicks do not give better head.

So, why are hockey players, particularly at the junior level, such pigs? The answer is quite simple. Junior teams are made up of 18- to 21-year-old men, with the occasional 16 or 17 year old, living away from home. As most of them are out of high school already, there’s no full-time schooling or homework. The most responsibility any of the players have is a part-time job, a couple of community college classes, and practice in the evenings. This leaves plenty of time for parties every night, no matter what day of the week it is because there’s no reason to need to be awake, or have any functioning motor skills, until practice the next evening. The thing that baffled me is how the puck sl*ts were always able to attend these parties, even though most of them had full-time college classes.

 

Every team has their puck sl*ts. Like the laxtitute, the puck sl*t is at every home game, checking the stat sheet to see who she is going to try to hook up with at the team’s party that night. That’s the way it is; the puck sl*ts just get passed around the locker room like a tin of Skoal.

On top of the puck sl*ts, there’s also the host mom. There’s always a lucky kid on the team or two that get placed with a smokeshow (Miss McGill in “Youngblood”) for a host mom. My team also ran into the problem of a divorcee for a host mom, who got double teamed by a couple of kids on the team and was no longer allowed to host players; yes, the players did receive suspensions. Well worth it for the story, though.

Once the days of living the dream are over, and it’s time to move on to college, you start school as the 21-year-old freshman that everyone wants to be friends with because they want you to buy them alcohol. Of course, you will hate all the other freshman because you know how much better you are than them and will only hang out with your teammates and the junior and senior girls since you’re still older than most of them.

Like lacrosse, hockey also has its own lifestyle. On the field, laxers must have mid-calves and tilt, while on the ice, hockey players either go tongues out or shin pads over the tongue, rock a halfie, and helmet tilt is also important. Only in hockey, you want the bucket tilted up, not down. Off the field, laxers wear polos, madras, seersucker, backwards hats, boat shoes, and canvas club belts, while hockey players can be identified by their khaki shorts, hockey T-shirt, backwards trucker hat, Bauer sandals, and a Tackla belt from an old pair of hockey pants.

To the junior hockey players out there, here’s to long bus rides, going crossbar down, puck sl*ts, hot host moms, skating suicides, packing lips, putting “ie” at the end of everyone’s name, partying hard every night, and winning games. Enjoy the dream while you still have it.

Have any crazy (but true) stories from your days of juniors? Leave them in the comments below.
 


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