My family's big into Nashville Predators hockey, even though we don't live in Tennessee. We get Center Ice just so we can watch Preds games live on FS Tennessee.
Our Tivo catches most games, and we watch them later. It's a whole lot easier than trying to arrange our schedule around a distant hockey team. It also means we get to fast forward through the commercials.
Earlier this week, we caught game live. Meaning we got to watch Nashville's local commercials. Like our local commercials here, some we can quote, some make us laugh, and some are lame.
There was a commercial I've seen before for Vanderbilt University Medical Center. I tried to find it on YouTube, but, of course, when you want a commercial you can't find it; when you don't want it it's everywhere.
The commercial features four different healthcare professionals vowing to do what you would expect of them.
An orthopedist vowing to fix broken bones. A nurse promising to use her wisdom and compassion.
Again, things you would expect. Maybe not always received but expected.
The remarkable thing is the promise to do this "even for Black Hawks, even for Red Wings, regardless of Western Conference standing."
This is a Nashville hockey commercials. The Nashville Predators HATE the Detroit Red Wings. But the Vandy nurse promises to provide compassionate care even to Red Wings.
What if we vowed the same thing?
I don't mean we all promise to fix the Red Wings' broken bones unless, of course, we are the ones lucky enough to break them. Kidding.
What if we re-wrote the commercials to put in things we're expected to do even when confronted by people or situations we don't particularly like. Mine might look like this:
I will be patient... even when I'm on a tight schedule.
I will be joyful... even when I have a headache.
I will love... even non-Christians.
What would yours look like?
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label hockey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hockey. Show all posts
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Monday, January 3, 2011
Futbol Confusion
This is an old note I wrote after attending a US vs. Costa Rica soccer game in Costa Rica. It was scarier than going to a Flyers game in Philly. But we all lived to tell the tale.
<>< Katie
I went to a football game today. Except there was no pig skin. No quarterback. The players actually used their feet. I was shocked!
On the way to the game we saw a brawl. Everyone on the bus was yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" And when the two men fell, I screamed, "Let's see some blood on that ice!"
On the street outside the stadium, the bus of American soccer players was warmly welcomed by police on horseback and one-finger waves from the crowd.
When we arrived at the game, we had a pat-down search where they confiscated cosas commencing with the letter "C": cameras, cell phones, chap-stick, and coins. I found this behavior quite strange.
I was surprised they hadn't closed the roof due to the impending rain, but the rain held off and the roof remained open.
Our seats were prefect to watch the players fly and see the quaffle at all times. Although we were definitely within hitting range from the bludgers. Who are those little insects down there walking along the grass?
We sang two national anthems. When the second started, I smiled and said, "Oh, Canada" before searching in vain to find their flag.
The game began, and the ball was kicked high into the air. "Get up! Get up! Get outta here! Gone!" As it rose, I yelled, "Fore!" for safety. Once it hit the net, I said, "Let!" When it went over, I knew there would be a five-minute major penalty for Delay of Game. Luckily, I had kept my eyes on it the whole time and was in no danger of being hit (by anything except those bloody bludgers). Eventually, the ball returned magically from the stands. That's not supposed to happen; it was your team that did it!
The ball was definitely touched more than three times. Once it crossed the entire court and the ref failed to call icing. Another time the player took it over-and-back, and my Fang Fingers were ready! During a tough call, I don't know why they didn't consult the experts in Toronto to review the play again. They didn't even take a TV time-out. The play clock continued while they exchanged yellow Christmas cards.
Shots on goal were few and far between. The goalie even ventured far from his net to retrieve the ball, but I screamed at him, "Get back in your net, Vokoun!" When the ball went in the gutter, I offered to give them a second serve, but I was benched. One man patted the top of his head, clearly needing to tie his shoe, but the play-clock never stopped. Although, the one and only intermission was cut short by five minutes.
In the last two minutes, we should have pulled our goalie. At the end, the red, white, and blue was victorious. After all, the lowest score wins, and they had three while we only had one!
I went to a football game today. I prefer to call it soccer, but either way I understand all of the rules.
<>< Katie
I went to a football game today. Except there was no pig skin. No quarterback. The players actually used their feet. I was shocked!
On the way to the game we saw a brawl. Everyone on the bus was yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" And when the two men fell, I screamed, "Let's see some blood on that ice!"
On the street outside the stadium, the bus of American soccer players was warmly welcomed by police on horseback and one-finger waves from the crowd.
When we arrived at the game, we had a pat-down search where they confiscated cosas commencing with the letter "C": cameras, cell phones, chap-stick, and coins. I found this behavior quite strange.
I was surprised they hadn't closed the roof due to the impending rain, but the rain held off and the roof remained open.
Our seats were prefect to watch the players fly and see the quaffle at all times. Although we were definitely within hitting range from the bludgers. Who are those little insects down there walking along the grass?
We sang two national anthems. When the second started, I smiled and said, "Oh, Canada" before searching in vain to find their flag.
The game began, and the ball was kicked high into the air. "Get up! Get up! Get outta here! Gone!" As it rose, I yelled, "Fore!" for safety. Once it hit the net, I said, "Let!" When it went over, I knew there would be a five-minute major penalty for Delay of Game. Luckily, I had kept my eyes on it the whole time and was in no danger of being hit (by anything except those bloody bludgers). Eventually, the ball returned magically from the stands. That's not supposed to happen; it was your team that did it!
The ball was definitely touched more than three times. Once it crossed the entire court and the ref failed to call icing. Another time the player took it over-and-back, and my Fang Fingers were ready! During a tough call, I don't know why they didn't consult the experts in Toronto to review the play again. They didn't even take a TV time-out. The play clock continued while they exchanged yellow Christmas cards.
Shots on goal were few and far between. The goalie even ventured far from his net to retrieve the ball, but I screamed at him, "Get back in your net, Vokoun!" When the ball went in the gutter, I offered to give them a second serve, but I was benched. One man patted the top of his head, clearly needing to tie his shoe, but the play-clock never stopped. Although, the one and only intermission was cut short by five minutes.
In the last two minutes, we should have pulled our goalie. At the end, the red, white, and blue was victorious. After all, the lowest score wins, and they had three while we only had one!
I went to a football game today. I prefer to call it soccer, but either way I understand all of the rules.
Friday, December 3, 2010
A Rapid Turn of Events
Last Friday when we got in the van on our way to Philadelphia, Lori was a bit groggy from her midnight shopping trip. She talked about seeing a man from her church, Mark. His pregnant wife Beth was two days overdue at the time. Obviously she couldn't go shopping, so she sent him out with a huge list of items to get Black Friday shopping.
"Wouldn't it be funny if he went home ready to take a nice long nap and she went into labor?" Lori said.
God thought it would be funny, too. By the time we were in the Wells Fargo Center enjoying our intense hockey experience, Beth had gone into labor.
After the game, we got back in the van and Mr. Steve said, "God said we can come to Him in the good and in the bad. Today we need to go before Him in the bad."
I thought he was referring to the recent devastating Flyers' loss in the third round of the shoot out.
No, Beth had delivered the baby and there were complications. We didn't have a lot of information. Neither did Beth. But the baby had been transferred to a different hospital, and the prayer chain notified.
So pray we did. Right there in the middle of a traffic jam in Philadelphia. We said we wanted healing for Mark and Beth's youngster. We didn't even know if it was a girl or a boy. We didn't know what was wrong. But we knew God knew. We knew God cared. We knew God could heal the baby, if it was His will.
It was His will. But He healed the baby in the way we weren't hoping for. By the time we made it home after a cheese steak, Mark and Beth's son was being held safely in the arms of his Heavenly Father.
Do me a favor and take a minute to pray for Mark and Beth and other families that have lost children. I cannot fathom such a joyous occasion turning so devastating so quickly.
Do me another favor and let me know how I can best pray for you.
Thanks, friends.
<>< Katie
"Wouldn't it be funny if he went home ready to take a nice long nap and she went into labor?" Lori said.
God thought it would be funny, too. By the time we were in the Wells Fargo Center enjoying our intense hockey experience, Beth had gone into labor.
After the game, we got back in the van and Mr. Steve said, "God said we can come to Him in the good and in the bad. Today we need to go before Him in the bad."
I thought he was referring to the recent devastating Flyers' loss in the third round of the shoot out.
No, Beth had delivered the baby and there were complications. We didn't have a lot of information. Neither did Beth. But the baby had been transferred to a different hospital, and the prayer chain notified.
So pray we did. Right there in the middle of a traffic jam in Philadelphia. We said we wanted healing for Mark and Beth's youngster. We didn't even know if it was a girl or a boy. We didn't know what was wrong. But we knew God knew. We knew God cared. We knew God could heal the baby, if it was His will.
It was His will. But He healed the baby in the way we weren't hoping for. By the time we made it home after a cheese steak, Mark and Beth's son was being held safely in the arms of his Heavenly Father.
Do me a favor and take a minute to pray for Mark and Beth and other families that have lost children. I cannot fathom such a joyous occasion turning so devastating so quickly.
Do me another favor and let me know how I can best pray for you.
Thanks, friends.
<>< Katie
Monday, November 29, 2010
A Cultural Experience
It was 6 o'clock on Black Friday, and I was standing in a line that wrapped around the outside of the building. Every single one of us wanted the same thing.
Except it was 6pm, the crowd was angry after a hard loss, and I was about to spend $8.50 on a two-word order. "Provolone witout."
I wasn't sure if I would like a cheese steak. They look gross. I've never been brave enough to try them, but this was a weekend of new food. Crab, lobster, pierogies, shoo fly pie, scrapple, potato filling, Wilbur buds, and cheese steak included.
Mr. Steve: Do you like steak?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Do you like cheese?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Do you like rolls?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Then you probably won't like a Philly cheese steak.
We didn't have time to do all of the touristy things on my first trip to Philadelphia, but our Philly-native tour guide took us to Pat's, Little Italy, and the Wells Fargo Center.
When it comes to hockey, the City of Brotherly Love does not live up to its name. I've been to professional hockey games in four different cities: Chicago, Nashville, Raleigh, and Philadelphia. For every game, the away team won, but never has a crowd shouted so many obscenities at the ice as they did in Philly.
I knew I was at a different hockey game from the very beginning when the players for the opposing team, the Calgary Flames, were announced. After each name, I am used to the crowd shouting, "Who cares?" Not Flyers fans. No, they shout, "Sucks." If the word "Sucks" is accepted in hockey, might as well use it in every viable opportunity, eh?
Who would have through that this family-friend sport in the city of brotherly love would have been so... well, unloving. The crowd of almost 20,000 breathed, cheered, and booed collectively. As the game progressed, the more entertaining the fans became. If I hadn't been glued to the ice for every shot of the shootout, I would have been entertained by the lone nuts, the orange chaos, and man with the "Insert here" sign.
I was so glad I was wearing a the jersey of a Western Conference team, the Nashville Predators, rather than another Eastern team. I might have gotten cussed out (like I did in Chicago) for supporting the opponent.
I do know that if God ever moves me to Pennsylvania, I'm going to have to give up hockey. There will be no rooting for my Predators in the Wells Fargo Center.
I might need a cheese steak and some Wilbur buds to sulk.
<>< Katie
Except it was 6pm, the crowd was angry after a hard loss, and I was about to spend $8.50 on a two-word order. "Provolone witout."
Mr. Steve: Do you like steak?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Do you like cheese?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Do you like rolls?
Katie: Yes.
Mr. Steve: Then you probably won't like a Philly cheese steak.
We didn't have time to do all of the touristy things on my first trip to Philadelphia, but our Philly-native tour guide took us to Pat's, Little Italy, and the Wells Fargo Center.
When it comes to hockey, the City of Brotherly Love does not live up to its name. I've been to professional hockey games in four different cities: Chicago, Nashville, Raleigh, and Philadelphia. For every game, the away team won, but never has a crowd shouted so many obscenities at the ice as they did in Philly.
I knew I was at a different hockey game from the very beginning when the players for the opposing team, the Calgary Flames, were announced. After each name, I am used to the crowd shouting, "Who cares?" Not Flyers fans. No, they shout, "Sucks." If the word "Sucks" is accepted in hockey, might as well use it in every viable opportunity, eh?
Who would have through that this family-friend sport in the city of brotherly love would have been so... well, unloving. The crowd of almost 20,000 breathed, cheered, and booed collectively. As the game progressed, the more entertaining the fans became. If I hadn't been glued to the ice for every shot of the shootout, I would have been entertained by the lone nuts, the orange chaos, and man with the "Insert here" sign.
I was so glad I was wearing a the jersey of a Western Conference team, the Nashville Predators, rather than another Eastern team. I might have gotten cussed out (like I did in Chicago) for supporting the opponent.
I do know that if God ever moves me to Pennsylvania, I'm going to have to give up hockey. There will be no rooting for my Predators in the Wells Fargo Center.
I might need a cheese steak and some Wilbur buds to sulk.
<>< Katie
Monday, March 1, 2010
Hockey, hockey, hockey
Even though I love and miss my family I don't get homesick a lot. I'm too busy keeping up with schoolwork to realize it's been two months since I've seen my parents. That is, until this afternoon when I was watching the US-Canada gold metal hockey game when reality hit like load of bricks.
I could picture the scene in my mind. My sisters and my parents all gathered in the family room wearing their matching Nashville Predators hockey jerseys. Mine's at home, abandoned in my closet. While I watched the game alone, their Fang Fingers flew in unison and laughter ever-flowing as they repeated our classic hockey jokes. I can even hear my dad taunting my mom.
"I know who wins," he says every time she watching a game.
"No, you don't. It's live!" She teases back, meaning this is not a recorded game from earlier in the week.
True, maybe Dad doesn't know who wins because the game is live. God knows who wins, though. Except the game He knows about isn't just live but life. He knew the US was going to score in the last 24 seconds taking the game in to over time. He knows the grade you'll make on this paper you're stressing about. He knows when Becca's baby will be born (we're hoping for Tuesday because 3-2-10 would be an excellent birthday!). He knows where my missing thumb drive is. You get the picture, right? He knows.
At home, when the game isn't live and Dad really does know who wins, Mom begs him not to tell. She really doesn't want to know; she wants to enjoy the game. Likewise, God isn't telling. In our game of life, we really want to know. Or do we want to enjoy the game?
Even though He isn't telling, God has come along side of us like someone excited to show a friend a hilarious video for the first time. Can't you hear Him? "You have to see this. The funny part is coming. Here it is! Look, look, look! Did you see that? Wasn't that cool!"
He's watching right along side you. He can't wait for you to see what He sees! Trust Him; it's cool!
Oh, and just in case there was question on my loyalties yesterday afternoon... Both teams were at equal strength. Despite being "practically from Canada," I did cheer for the Americans. Although, it did mean I had to cheer against Shea Weber, but Ryan Suter is an American so it evened out. Congratulations on your gold, Canada.
<>< Katie
I could picture the scene in my mind. My sisters and my parents all gathered in the family room wearing their matching Nashville Predators hockey jerseys. Mine's at home, abandoned in my closet. While I watched the game alone, their Fang Fingers flew in unison and laughter ever-flowing as they repeated our classic hockey jokes. I can even hear my dad taunting my mom.
"I know who wins," he says every time she watching a game.
"No, you don't. It's live!" She teases back, meaning this is not a recorded game from earlier in the week.
True, maybe Dad doesn't know who wins because the game is live. God knows who wins, though. Except the game He knows about isn't just live but life. He knew the US was going to score in the last 24 seconds taking the game in to over time. He knows the grade you'll make on this paper you're stressing about. He knows when Becca's baby will be born (we're hoping for Tuesday because 3-2-10 would be an excellent birthday!). He knows where my missing thumb drive is. You get the picture, right? He knows.
At home, when the game isn't live and Dad really does know who wins, Mom begs him not to tell. She really doesn't want to know; she wants to enjoy the game. Likewise, God isn't telling. In our game of life, we really want to know. Or do we want to enjoy the game?
Even though He isn't telling, God has come along side of us like someone excited to show a friend a hilarious video for the first time. Can't you hear Him? "You have to see this. The funny part is coming. Here it is! Look, look, look! Did you see that? Wasn't that cool!"
He's watching right along side you. He can't wait for you to see what He sees! Trust Him; it's cool!
Oh, and just in case there was question on my loyalties yesterday afternoon... Both teams were at equal strength. Despite being "practically from Canada," I did cheer for the Americans. Although, it did mean I had to cheer against Shea Weber, but Ryan Suter is an American so it evened out. Congratulations on your gold, Canada.
<>< Katie
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Book Review: Orchid of the Bayou
While my friends were enjoying the snow, I was trying to devour Orchid of the Bayou: A Deaf Woman Faces Blindness by Cathryn Carroll and Catherine Hoffpauir Fischer. I'd heard good things about this book and was really excited to be able to read it for my ASL class.
Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Since the subtitle of the novel is "A deaf woman faces blindness" I thought it would be about, well, a deaf woman going blind. True, the first person protagonist has Usher Syndrome, the leading cause of deaf-blindness, but beyond some poorly-used foreshadowing, she doesn't address her visual problems until page 216 out of 253!
She spent two chapters, a total of about fifteen pages, talking about her narrowing field of vision. The entire rest of the book left me made me glad I'm a hockey fan because I'm good at screaming, "WHO CARES?!" Eventually, I stopped screaming it in my head and began to write it in the margins. At one point I even drew a box around the words "that's what she said" because reading those words in print was more exciting than whatever the "she" in the novel had said.
The book is not poorly written but the co-authors aren't wordsmiths either. Grammatical errors are few but hilarious nevertheless because they are mistakes those of us who can hear the English language can hear but the deaf cannot. Although, the book does include a plethora of useless fact detailing the lives of every single person the Kitty, the protagonist, encountered.
More than a deaf woman facing blindness like the title suggests, this novel tells the lifestory of your typical deaf woman. Sorry to take the Deaf way and be blunt. Diagnosed as mentally retarded, deaf, and dumb, Kitty Hoffpauir spent her childhood struggling to communicate with her family, learning to balance her residential school life with her home problems, and proving that "deaf" does not mean "dumb." Eventually she makes her way to the top of her class and is eligible to attend Gallaudet University (think Mecca for the deaf). Washington, DC creates a culture shock for this Acadian Southern deaf girl. Eventually she learns to embrace the multiculturalism that exists in her life and be content with who she is.
It is finally at this point in the book that she addresses her sight problems. She says, "I didn't mind being deaf. Although deafness took away hearing, it gave me community--and that community was based on sight" (232). A book detailing these challenges would have been more entertaining and appropriate with the title. Oh, well.
It was interesting to read her take on being deaf in a hearing family, being deaf and raising hearing children, watching deaf interact with each other, and the communication challenges she faced throughout life. I loved noticing how some of her family members were able to see beyond her deafness and understood her need for alternative communication while others preferred to force her to try and read lips or took to kicking her to obtain her attention.
Over all, I give this book a 2 out of 5. It could have been a 3.5 without the misleading subtitle. I think it's a good read for anyone who wants to know more about Deaf culture but don't expect a lot about deaf-blind or Usher Syndrome.
<>< Katie
Unfortunately, I was disappointed. Since the subtitle of the novel is "A deaf woman faces blindness" I thought it would be about, well, a deaf woman going blind. True, the first person protagonist has Usher Syndrome, the leading cause of deaf-blindness, but beyond some poorly-used foreshadowing, she doesn't address her visual problems until page 216 out of 253!
She spent two chapters, a total of about fifteen pages, talking about her narrowing field of vision. The entire rest of the book left me made me glad I'm a hockey fan because I'm good at screaming, "WHO CARES?!" Eventually, I stopped screaming it in my head and began to write it in the margins. At one point I even drew a box around the words "that's what she said" because reading those words in print was more exciting than whatever the "she" in the novel had said.
The book is not poorly written but the co-authors aren't wordsmiths either. Grammatical errors are few but hilarious nevertheless because they are mistakes those of us who can hear the English language can hear but the deaf cannot. Although, the book does include a plethora of useless fact detailing the lives of every single person the Kitty, the protagonist, encountered.
More than a deaf woman facing blindness like the title suggests, this novel tells the lifestory of your typical deaf woman. Sorry to take the Deaf way and be blunt. Diagnosed as mentally retarded, deaf, and dumb, Kitty Hoffpauir spent her childhood struggling to communicate with her family, learning to balance her residential school life with her home problems, and proving that "deaf" does not mean "dumb." Eventually she makes her way to the top of her class and is eligible to attend Gallaudet University (think Mecca for the deaf). Washington, DC creates a culture shock for this Acadian Southern deaf girl. Eventually she learns to embrace the multiculturalism that exists in her life and be content with who she is.
It is finally at this point in the book that she addresses her sight problems. She says, "I didn't mind being deaf. Although deafness took away hearing, it gave me community--and that community was based on sight" (232). A book detailing these challenges would have been more entertaining and appropriate with the title. Oh, well.
It was interesting to read her take on being deaf in a hearing family, being deaf and raising hearing children, watching deaf interact with each other, and the communication challenges she faced throughout life. I loved noticing how some of her family members were able to see beyond her deafness and understood her need for alternative communication while others preferred to force her to try and read lips or took to kicking her to obtain her attention.
Over all, I give this book a 2 out of 5. It could have been a 3.5 without the misleading subtitle. I think it's a good read for anyone who wants to know more about Deaf culture but don't expect a lot about deaf-blind or Usher Syndrome.
<>< Katie
Sunday, December 21, 2008
"The Shortest Day Came..."
Melsa's been pestering me to update my blog with something more cheerful... so I've been trying to come up with something good... yet everything has been random stories (surprise surprise) with no real focus)... How about some random thoughts instead? Think, think, think...
Today's date is a palindrome and that makes me smile.
Today is also the shortest day. "The shortest day came..." and what's that speech about darkness that I've only heard nine times?
I had communion today for the first time since August 10th. And it was good. Actually, that's a lie. I had communion over Thanksgiving, but I only got a half a wafer ("Worship here on a regular basis and we'll give you the whole wafer" - Pastor Russ)
Last week I made up my offering envelope and left it in the cover of my Bible in the car. So I turned it in this week, crossed off the date, and wrote "oops". haha
I drove on the freeway today. Longer than just one exit, thank you. I'd like to once again point out: just because I choose not to drive on the freeway does not mean I can't, haven't, and won't.
It's is COLD! The hockey arena was actually considered warm considered to outside... Just because my mom (sorta) looks like Sarah Palin does NOT mean our weather must replicate that of Alaska...
I was on the jumbotron dancing to "Cotton Eyed Joe"... last time I was on the jumbotron I was wearing a Mrs. Potato Head Costume (and it wasn't Halloween...) My family failed at getting a picture yet again...
I got my glasses fixed the other day, but now the lens is warped... meaning I have to go the mall again tomorrow... two days before Christmas... because they didn't fix them properly the first time... (and this injury to the glasses was NOT my fault, haha)
Spiritual connection, oh yeah...
"Imagine the Creator of the Universe shoving Himself into a baby's body." - PT
"Every snowflake is different, yet look at what they can do together." - P Ras
In Christ,
<>< Katie
Today's date is a palindrome and that makes me smile.
Today is also the shortest day. "The shortest day came..." and what's that speech about darkness that I've only heard nine times?
I had communion today for the first time since August 10th. And it was good. Actually, that's a lie. I had communion over Thanksgiving, but I only got a half a wafer ("Worship here on a regular basis and we'll give you the whole wafer" - Pastor Russ)
Last week I made up my offering envelope and left it in the cover of my Bible in the car. So I turned it in this week, crossed off the date, and wrote "oops". haha
I drove on the freeway today. Longer than just one exit, thank you. I'd like to once again point out: just because I choose not to drive on the freeway does not mean I can't, haven't, and won't.
It's is COLD! The hockey arena was actually considered warm considered to outside... Just because my mom (sorta) looks like Sarah Palin does NOT mean our weather must replicate that of Alaska...
I was on the jumbotron dancing to "Cotton Eyed Joe"... last time I was on the jumbotron I was wearing a Mrs. Potato Head Costume (and it wasn't Halloween...) My family failed at getting a picture yet again...
I got my glasses fixed the other day, but now the lens is warped... meaning I have to go the mall again tomorrow... two days before Christmas... because they didn't fix them properly the first time... (and this injury to the glasses was NOT my fault, haha)
Spiritual connection, oh yeah...
"Imagine the Creator of the Universe shoving Himself into a baby's body." - PT
"Every snowflake is different, yet look at what they can do together." - P Ras
In Christ,
<>< Katie
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