I’ve gone and done it again. Missed crucial details about D’s hockey schedule so have once again found ourselves at a surprise tournament. In my defense, all of our hockey matches are called tournaments. The difference between the regular 3-30 minute games against 3 different teams we do every weekend and the 10 hour extravaganza playing up to 12 different teams in a day is a subtelty clearly still lost on me.
This weekend luckily my blunder was greatly overshadowed by the much bigger blunder by the whole hockey club.
Saturday’s game had a 7:00am call time in Austria. (Oh to be back to the days when travel to Black Diamond seemed far…)
I quickly became aware of a problem. There was no bus-train-train-bus combination leaving early enough to get us to the rink on time. Even if we started with the very first 5:13 option, we’d still arrive a half hour late.
So I had to outsource his transportation. There is a lovely coach/player pair who are British so they were my first choice. They happily agreed to bring D with them. Cue the panic for poor D.
But at 5:45 am he had mustered enough courage to get in the car and off they went. Blissfully, I went back to bed. When I woke again at 7:30 there was a text from the Dad.
“There’s been a mistake. The game is tomorrow.”
They had arrived in Austria to find the rink locked up tight.
Oh the humanity.
And so back they came. Ready to do it all over again on Sunday.
I was at once so sympathetic to D and a wee bit pleased with myself. Every game we set out for I am in constant fear that we will show up at the wrong place or the wrong time. The fact that that exact scenario unfolded this weekend and had nothing to do with me was no small victory!
Turns out it was a bit too soon to pat myself on the back…
A van was rented for Sunday so that the parents were spared the return trip to Austria. A 5:20 bus from home got us to the van just in time to get D and his giant ball of nerves loaded with the rest of the team.
All the way there D kept saying “Mom, are you SURE this isn’t one of the big tournaments?”
“Yes Buddy, you should be home around noon and then we can have a nice relaxing Sunday.”
“Are you sure!?!?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll ask your coach once we get to the bus what time you’ll be back.”
According to the coach the medal ceremony should get underway around 6:00pm.
Well, no time to panic now Buddy, off you go, get into the van, wide eyed and gripped by the confirmation that Mom can no longer be trusted. This new Swiss-mom drops the ball. A lot.
Well, one step closer to independence Pal. Nothing inspires self reliance like realizing that your mother no longer has the reigns.
In the end all was good, as is the rhythm we’ve come to expect. They ended up playing in the final which is the furthest they have gone in all the tournaments thus far.
Proud of D who started out with the B level in the Winterthur Club and has ended the season playing with the boys on the elite A level. It took him a while to find his groove here but he finally did and the coaches took notice. So even though they lost the final match, D is a pretty happy kid.
At some point I have to assume that his success ratio in all these angst-ridden circumstances will finally convince him that the likelihood of accidentally crapping his pants is only real in his imagination and that he has, indeed, got this.
All in all a spectacular day in Austria with the Alp’s looming in the background.
The highlight of the weekend was not just hockey angst. This was a weekend I had been looking forward to for months. One of my most favourite artists was in concert here so I had a highly anticipated night out in Zurich.
Zurich is simply spectacular in the Spring. The outdoor patios were bursting with folks anxious to take in the sun and the sights. Enjoying dinner on a patio in early March is a rare treat, considering the weather we’re missing back home.
I am soaking up and appreciating every moment of this Spring. The smells, the sights, the warmth. All of it is amazing and so very welcome.
With the Spring comes the new European fashion trends we all must aspire to keep up with. This one is for the men. Not sure if it is inspired by some desire to show solidarity to the poor Americans out there because it certainly has a yankee feel to it.
Men this year can now feel free to pair a nice, crisp white dress-shirt with their favourite sweat pants. Hmmm, right up there with the socks & high-heels we first witnessed in Milan, I wonder it this one will last. Puts a whole new spin on casual Fridays.