Doink - He hit the post

My whole life, I have been a sports player. You name it, I played it. Still do, to a certain extent. In high school, I was a fairly decent hockey player. For all three years, I led my team in two statistical categories, assists and penalty minutes. One thing I couldn’t seem to do was score goals. I guess it’s a good thing I was a defensemen. On more than one occasion, I can vividly recall having the puck, skating in the open and seeing wide open net. Knowing I was going to score, I’d let loose with one of my wicked wrist shots. Only instead of watching the puck stretch the back of the net, I usually heard what can only be described as the most sickening sound in all of sport. If you haven’t heard it, it is the sound of a frozen chuck of vulcanized rubber careening off the metal post that supports the net. Doink! No other sound in sports compares. In soccer, the sound of the ball hitting the post is a dull thud. Although it is no less disappointing to see, the sound simply cannot match the sharp ting of the post hitting doink. Another sound that may seem as disappointing is a brick bouncing off the rim in basketball. But that just isn’t the same. Even the bit players in a basketball game get four or five opportunities in a game and they usually score four to ten points. Most memorable sounds in sports are positive, the sweet sound of a basketball that hits nothing but net; the low pitched do-ga-da of a golf ball falling in the cup; the crunch of shoulder pads; or the crack off the bat when a homerun is hit. Laying in bed this morning, I was struck by the fact that last night I hit the post. I received a response from Mark Cuban. When I wrote him back, I didn’t mention that I was happy to count him among my readers. But unlike when I played high school hockey, I will not get so caught up waiting to see if I score that I miss the rebound. I am going to continue to aggressively pursue the goal until I see the back of the net. Tags: Fiction, Online Book, Rebeleyeball, Paul Gavin Copyright (c) 2006 Paul Gavin. All rights reserved.