Reflection after a Deflection

We've all been there before. We've all had those moments where something frightening happens, and you say to someone "I just saw my whole life flash before my eyes." But what happens if you miss that flash? Was it something that wasn't meant for you at that time? Or are you just plain lucky?

Let's just say I had a rough weekend as a hockey referee-- and for once it didn't involve an incident with a player, coach, or fan.

The local midget (high school) hockey team in Omaha hosts a season opening tournament, anually. Generally, it's a regional tournament-- teams from Iowa, Nebraska, and Colorado. (They host a more national tournament around Thanksgiving.) It's fun to start the season with such high energy games, but that comes with a risk.

Early in the season, you're just trying to get back into gear-- that goes for players, coaches, and officials. You're certainly not in mid-season form, and mental mistakes are bound to happen. Also, the rink employees aren't up to speed yet either-- they're still in summer mode, with less action around, which puts them in the same position as everyone else. Add it all up, and sometimes you fear the start of the season.

I got through Friday's game fine-- no problems whatsoever-- but I can tell you for the first several minutes of the game I felt like I had lead weights on my feet.

Saturday got a little more adventurous. With the warm temperatures outside, it can be difficult to keep the ice, inside, it decent shape. You've got sharp baldes on soft ice, and what ends up happening is the conditions of the game deteriorate. Players fall down more often, and those who make sharp turns usually make huge ruts in the ice. I caught one of those ruts, and took a tumble. I bounced up, no harm done-- until I realized I had managed to cut my hand. It didn't look bad at first-- at the next whistle, I went to the bench to cover up the cut... but a couple minutes later, at the next whistle, I realized my entire hand was covered in blood. Kinda scary when you see it, but I knew I wasn't in danger, I knew it was just a small cut in a bad location. I cleaned and patched my self up at intermission (9 seconds later), and finished the game.

Then there was Sunday. I could tell right away it just wasn't going to be a good day for officials. It started early, while attempting to get out of the way of a couple players, I went to hop up on the boards, to let them by, only to find myself going through and open door. I found it to be quite comical. I laughed it off, and kept on. I watched the referee get hit sqaure in the back with a clearing attempt. Saw my fellow linesman get his feet taken out from under him following a faceoff. And then saw the same partner get crunched by two players at full speed. The referee and I both swear he bounced a good 5-10 feet off the boards. It was one of those hits you can feel, just by witnessing it.

But nothing would compare to what was about to happen to me.

I mentioned the mental fitness of those involved, because this is the case of a player going absolutely brain-dead. I honestly don't think I would have found myself in this situation had this game been in Decemeber, not October. In December, the player would have a flow for the game, and the mental awareness to know where the officials are at any point during the game. I don't blame him-- I just wish he had taken a look before he did it.

What did he do?

With the puck near center ice, the player went to dump the puck into the offensive zone. At the same time, his opponents are changing lines. Me? I'm stuck near the blue line, in position, but dodging the changing players.

They tell you than when you're on the ice as an official 90% of your job is self-preservation. I was in self-perservation mode.

I just happened to see the player wind-up from center ice, and knew exactly where that puck was headed-- it was going to hit the glass about 5 feet to my left, and come right for me. I took cover.

Had I been on the side of the ice away from the benches, I might have had the option of just diving to the ice, to get out of the way. Unfortunately, I had ten players right by me, for a line change. So, I turned my back to the shooter, and crouched down as low as I could.

I remember feeling the puck buzz past my eye. I got up and made my call, and play went on. But I could tell by the immediate silence, something happened. Then a player on the bench quipped "I'll bet that hurt." I didn't realize he was talking to me, until at the next whistle I had both the referee and the other linesman checking on me. I was fine-- I didn't feel a thing. But apparently, the puck did glance off my helmet.

I can't tell you how lucky I am right now. A fan, videotaping the game said he saw it, and looked at it several times-- then asked if I wanted to see (I said, I'd take his word for it). Like I said, I felt the breeze as the puck zipped by my face. It could have hit me an inch forward, and broken something near my eye. It could have hit me an inch behind and messed up my ear. Don't forget, I was ducking. If that puck gets to me a second sooner, it hits my jaw. Or, if I hadn't seen it coming, I could have taken it in the chest.

As it is, it hit me in the helmet, and it hit the part of my helmet that covers the temple area of my head. But I realize, that even then-- the helmet could have shattered, or failed in some way-- and I could be resting in a hospital, or worse yet, in an oak box.

Of course, that fear didn't hit me until several hours later. And I think it's still setting in. And I'm a little short on rest, so maybe my reations are a little slow, but as I continue to think about what happened, there is a good chance that for the next several days, I could become Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.

As it is right now, I'm just lucky. And I'm happy to be here.