GOLF

Parker, CO

August 2007

The rumor for the last 400 years was that Golf stood for Gentleman Only Ladies Forbidden.! It's a backronym. They say that the Scottish actually originated it back in the 15th century even though the Dutch and the Chinese date the game way before us Celts.

As most of you know, my life changed.......DRAMATICALLY, with the Wall Street banking fall out at the beginning of the year, and although its been life altering, its also been a lesson in humility, resourcefulness, and networking.  Agter trying to be a resourceful girl by selling cars for my old boss, John Elway, the hours were too long for the little ones waiting at home.  However, if you want to know anything about Bilstein suspension systems, VVTI engines, the aerodynamic engineering of the Prius, or how a Hybrid engine works, just ask!;) So here I am, back in the game of golf and though my income has dropped substantially and I am working weekends and nights, I'm back to being passionate about being back in the game surrounded by the familiarity!

Our golf course is a members only club just south of Parker, Colorado on the way out to Castlewood Canyon. It's an old club and the echo of hammering denotes the promise of the up and coming BrightStar Golf Company to acquire, improve and expand golf courses nationwide that have so long been neglected. It's not only the members that inspired me to gravitate back to this industry.......it's the tournaments and the people it breeds.

From Port Ludlow to Coeur d'Alen to Aspen to Denver, I have had the opportunity to witness and be a part of benefit tournaments inspired by a core commitment to a cause. From promotable, larger than life games like The NBA, The NBL, the Annual Broncos Alumni, to the sincere life transforming smaller ones like Toys for Tots out at Heritage Eagle Bend where Ken Cox raises more money and supplies more bicycles than the whole state of Colorado at Christmas time. The Marines line up with gratitude as they load their three covered caravan trucks to surprise children that have hope, that there really is a Santa Claus. Two weeks ago we hosted a tournament for a newly graduated senior from Ponderosa High School, who was killed in a car accident on the way to visit relatives in Illinois only four weeks after graduation. It was the fourth year for this tournament,  as he grew up at The Pinery and golf was his passion. Still, most of  his friends showed up, his family, his uncles, aunts, grandparents and an influx of people who had never met him. They only heard through the grapevine what a tremendous spirit this boy possessed. The proceeds from his tournament go to fund a tour bus that transports the kids from Ponderosa High School to events, whether it be Wrestling, Band, or Football games. There is heart and reason behind it.

This morning, I arrived at the club with my two little boys in tow (no babysitter at 6:30am) to help Randy and Katie set up for a tournament. It wasn't until after the golfers came in from their 18 that we all began to fathom the intense meaning behind it. Here's how the story goes......

One of our members had some kids, 3 boys and a girl. One of the boys was born with Down's Syndrome. He lived with his parents through his adulthood and maintained a steady job at the local McDonald's here in Parker. He passed away in the year 2000. Through his death, his family was inspired to raise money in team with the Special Olympics and Departmental Partners in order to fund camping trips, rafting trips, gym memberships, bowling leagues for people with disabilities. They implemented a store where all proceeds go for funding which is located in Aurora and recently opened one in Littleton. People flew in from Chicago, called in sick to work, closed their businesses today in order to pick up their clubs and play for this memorable man. Mom and Dad, sister and brothers passionately set up the largest tournament in seven years. However, it was like any other tournament until the MC called a group of this man's friends up to the podium.

This was a different crowd to begin with. There were no celebrities. The MC, since 2000, brought up the friends and within the next hour I saw freedom......pure, unbridled, passionate, fun, happy freedom. I longed to be like them. They sang, they danced, they laughed with everything beautiful they carry inside with no measure of how brutal reality can be. They live for the moment, for who they are, for how they feel.

In the dusk of the Colorado heat, I walked away with a renewed perception that life is WAY too short to skip away a minute of bliss, a second of hope, an hour of joy. That in death, there is a transformation of spirit into power. That in life, there is happiness in simplicity. Simplicity of a joke, a song, a dance, a cashier at the local hamburger hangout.

Aspen

Mar 19, 2007

Aspen

Current mood:chipper

The ambience of Aspen is breathtaking!! This weekend was crazy beautiful!! I saw some old friends, made some new ones, listened to some stories and experienced the renowned Ajax Après on the sun drenched patio at the base of the Aspen gondola until the sun set behind the mountain. I finally headed out on the highway way past my bedtime, calling every friend in my cell phone that could help keep my eyes from needing toothpicks. No one was awake but me. I finally succumbed to my drifting thoughts close to 4am by pulling into Eagle, looping around the back of the Conoco station to a dirt parking lot below the freeway where I nestled the car between half a dozen sleeping semi's, lowered the leather seat back, tucked my pillow under my head and snuggled deeply into my thick, furry blanket and let the dark overtake me. But, only for a few hours. I pulled into my garage just before 8 and made my 10:00 realtors meeting in East Denver. Funny what a weekend away can do for your mentality. I feel like I could conquer the world this week!! And win!!  

Indulgent Serenity

Mar 18, 2007
Current mood:peaceful

Indulgent Serenity

It's early morning on St. Patrick's Day and I'm escaping. With every mile closer that I get to I-70 West, I can feel my chest inflate involunatraily with deeper breaths, my body knowing subconsciously that soon I'll be absorbing the crisp air of Snowmass Village. It's so warm and sunny! I'm cruising down the highway with the windows down, the sunroof open and the southern voice of Louis Armstrong emanating from the speakers singing its "A Wonderful World". Yes, it really is.  As soon as I pulled onto E-470, I flipped through my music case, looking for something to match the mood of the drive when I came across a blank CD, curiosity got the best of me so I popped it in and with the first notes I was taken back in time, last fall, with butterflies swirling in my tummy,  and a smile swept across my face with the memory. There were only two of these discs made and it is full of songs I had remotely forgotten.........it was perfect..........perfect for where I wanted my mind and heart to be today and this weekend.

Snowmass Village.....my first home in Colorado!

I haven't been to Aspen since last September when Sarah, the boys and I stayed a weekend here. It was an amazing weekend….in many little ways.

The trip to the Roaring Fork Valley is three and half-hours though it never seems that long. I know this drive so well, and as I have my little routine pit stops along the road trips back to Seattle, so too do I have them on this one. First stop is always at Starbucks at the off ramp for Downieville. Today was my really lucky day! As I was standing in the line to grab some Green Tea, the barrista announced that if anyone was interested in an Iced Venti Cinnamon Dolce, that it was a mistake and it was free. Never being the one to pass up an unprecedented opportunity, I took it and headed west. Mmmmmmmmmm, this is really good! It kind of tastes like Mexican hot chocolate….but cold! The second stop will be destination Joe Kelly's condo at the top of the village in Snowmass.


Joe playing guitar and Gary in the back singing Sweet Caroline

Driving along the valley with snowy Mt. Sopris dominating the horizon, I have my hand out the top of the car to feel the cold sharpness of the wind curving around my fingers in the wind, drawing in the fresh scents of the wilderness and I can't help but wonder what it feels like to be a dog. It must be incredible to hang your head out the car window or stand in the back of a truck absorbing more of only a bit of what my hand feels.

Joe and Gary Quist have a band. They play tonight in downtown Aspen.

Last night, way too late( or way too early......depending how you look at it), I got a wild hair and called them, along with my girlfriend, Gina, to ask if I could have someone's couch for the weekend. Two years ago, I met all three of them when I was working the ski season at the Snowmass Club. Gary would sing in our lounge during Après on Friday nights and Joe would sing on Saturday's. Gina came in the middle of the season, looking like a real live Barbie doll from Nebraska, and we became instantaneous friends. Joe is larger than life. He was the lead guitarist for Tina Turner and does charity fund raisers in Snowmass with Vince Gill, his voice is strong and paralyzes you with its deep, smoky power. His single, "Flying High" is only in the hands of  a few before it makes it to it's release and blows his solo career wide open. 

Gary is more subdued than Joe….until he gets on stage. Gary used to play in the Larry Gatlin band and was the stunt double for Kurt Russell once upon a time. His voice is sultry and commanding and his casual subtly is his strength of presence.  He has a song he sings just for me.  Tonight sitting in an old wooden chair, looking out the 2^nd story window of this historical Victorian building onto the streets of this mountain town, I hear him sing, "I Am, I Said" and deep inside I realize how everything is where it's suppose to be for this moment. O pow'lelo a hima'lele.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wYpVy9W29M   ~Neil Dimond's "I Am I Said" :)

My heart is scattered in pieces from Alaska to Colorado. Different places holding cherished memories. This village is one of them, one of the strongest. This is how I came to know Colorado. At night, when the dark is so deep, the lights of the village are indistinguishable from the stars in the sky. Here you are on top of the world, closer to God, closer to heaven. You feel as if you could reach out and touch the moon with one more step. It's a simple life. A decadent life in indulgent serenity. I wish I could capture it and bring it back home to unleash it so it could touch everyone's world as it fills mine.

Sunday Drive

Feb 25, 2007
Current mood:contemplative

Bob Burton. I met Bob in the early afternoon at a trailhead along a Douglas County bike path. I had stepped out of my car and noticed that across the parking lot a man was taking out his 1975 Red, scuffed Schwinn road bike and commented on the fact that he was a lucky man to have been able to fit his bike in his car. Decked out in a North Face black down vest, thermal socks, pants, gloves and a helmet, Bob was the epitome of a seasoned Coloradian bike rider. We proceeded to walk down to the trail along Cherry Creek and engaged the conversation towards life. He is a stud! He's probably in his early 60's, married, three grown children that all do some type of intensive social work, an outcome obviously ordained by his natural compassion that emanated from him. We parted half an hour later after we had walked together telling brief stories from our lives and becoming fast friends in the moment, part of me saddened by the fact that I could not accept his invitation to ride with him out to Castlewood Canyon.


Castlewood Canyon



Earlier this morning, I had awakened with the impeding need to ride my mountain bike, after feeling the sun touch my cheek with it's warmth from a mean sleep, I decided that Castlewood Canyon would be perfect for an introspective day of hiking and later I would bike whatever trail was conveniently close by before the sun dropped. Realizing that I don't own a Columbia backpack, I found a backpack that Jordan used in 1^st grade and even though it had Scooby Doo on the flap, I packed it with bottled water, Muscle Milk, my bible, a book, a notebook, my sketch pad, some pencils, a plastic baggy with matches (just in case it fell in a creek……then thinking some more I added a few Wheat Thins to fill it), a small butcher's knife (just in case a cougar attacked me), a fur blanket (just in case I got lost and I was cold), two pair of socks, a ski mask, gloves, scarf(just in case I got lost and it got colder),  cocoa butter(for dry skin), 30SPF sunscreen(so I wouldn't get any more freckles) an apple(just in case I got lost for days, I wouldn't starve) and a bag of gummy bears( because if all was lost, they make me feel good when I eat them). Now……I was ready!! J

My bike had different ideas, it obviously didn't want to go out for a ride today, so for twenty minutes I tried to shove the darn thing into my friend's 4 door Black Infiniti Sedan, much to the entertainment of the guy across the parking lot who was polishing his three motorcycles. I tried it through the trunk. Through both of the side doors. Through the front passenger door…..hoping to get it to the back seat diagonally, all to no avail. I know Motorcycle man probably thought things I don't want to think of but after giving it my all, I surrendered to the idea that I need to buy a truck and took off without it.

Man, it was a beautiful day!!!! I was skipping church but my conscience excused it by telling me that my religion was in nature today and I most desperately needed to feel connected to something. These last two months have been the most challenging I've had in all aspects, all rolled into one, than the last five years put together. I have a lot of friends but few that I trust my deepest, darkest trials with and in my selfish independent pride, I rarely ask and in so doing, become incessantly neurotic and introverted. Without the children here, my nurturing abilities are suppressed, my loneliness magnified and it kills me. I still have been unable to walk into the boys room to unpack it as my heart bleeds with the image of them and their smells lingering on their pillows. My saving grace has always been in the serenity and simplicity of what God created and as I cruise south out of Parker with the sunroof open and the heater on at 85 degrees, I notice that the air only gets colder the closer to the canyon I get. I figured it was just because I was in the shade.

Castlewood Canyon is all snow and mud. Beautiful in its purity and yet way too chilly to even sit in the car without the heater cranked up. I contemplated for half an hour or so, didn't see anyone else venturing out so I guided the car out of the lot and back towards civilization. I thought about turning west at the crossroads and heading toward the rock at Castle Rock, but knew from past experience, that it would be below freezing once I got to the top and I didn't think all the arctic supplies in the Scooby Doo kit would be enough to handle the elements.

Hitting Parker, I was coming up on the gym I go to and hadn't utilized since I moved half a city closer to it a few weeks ago. I realized all too warily, that my backside had been expanding due to the lack of aerobic content in my life so I pulled in to appease the guilt. But, it just wasn't the same as my dream had had for the day, so after a trip on the treadmill and some serious abdominal exercises, I left. I thought a Fuji apple would be much better than the little Granny one that I had packed so I stopped in at the local grocery store that I use to haunt for almost two years.  I love this store! I always know someone whose working there,  and when your feeing like a gypsy lately, the familiarity of a face you have seen, even if only at the food market, brings a little grounding. I ran into my friend Tony, who has worked there since I moved to Parker and we lived in the same apartment complex. The last time we saw each other was last summer on the bike trail, the day before I moved away......it was comforting to see him, knowing that there really is predictablity and that some things are good if they don't change. I went and picked up my big, juicy Fuji apple and headed over to the Sprint store to change my Aspen number to a local one, on the advise of a potential employer.  As sentimental as that phone number is to me, I was surprised at the ease in changing it, I didn't even cry. I left eating my apple, a new phone number, picture mail and a deep seeded longing to be outside.

That's when I drove over to Cottonwood and met Bob. I am grateful that my bike didn't make it because if it had, I never would have met him. I would have been off on my merry little way, never thinking twice about someone pulling their bike out of the back of their car. Bob was an investment stockbroker in his day, I told him that I have always been infatuated and curious with stocks but never had someone to teach me. He gave me six stock names that he has invested in for the last five years and that he, his family, and his sisters live off of the interest in which they have given him more than a fifty percent return. He says that by the time a person retires, they still have thirty wonderful years of living left and that you want to spend it enjoying and experiencing the quality of life that should be everyone's.

I walked after him until he rounded the bend under the highway and I could see him no more. I'll invest in those six stocks and meet Bob Burton again someday……somewhere........in the middle of nowhere…….exchanging impacting small life stories. I thought about him for the next hour as I made my way to Taco Bell. I really needed a Crunchy Taco Supreme. This did nothing for my guilt, but felt unbelievable for my soul so I walked back to my car and headed to the gym at my complex for another hour.

I gained a lot today but still felt the emptiness and confusion that I wanted to alleviate by drowning in the peacefulness of the wilderness. I need to escape. I need an angel to take my hand and sweep my spirit away to the mountains if only for a day. I want to forget the world and all of the weight it dictates. I want to set my soul free and linger outside the rigidity of life. I want my hairdresser not to cut my hair like Einstein's. And I promise, Denice, that I will work out every single night at the gym for the car show in March...... .......just not  tonight because I have a date with my bed and a book and my gummy bears.

Keystone, Colorado

Keystone

Current mood:chill

Keystone

Through adversity comes appreciation. Through loss comes awareness. Through humility comes joy. Through acceptance comes empowerment. Through faith comes freedom. Through hope comes possibility.

It was the end of the workday on Friday the 31^st of July and I felt like Debra Winger in “Officer And A Gentleman” as I ran to the time clock in the back of the store, pulled off my baseball cap, my blood soaked whites and swiped my timecard to hear the proverbial beep that let me know that I wasn’t on “The Sprout’s God Time” anymore! I was free!!!




Me and my meat!

 

It was 2:00 and Denise wasn’t going to pick me up for another hour and a half so AJ, the youngest Sproutie butcher at the ripe age of 23, and I, decided to take up some tasty little morsels at the local corner bar, FunUGuyz. He isn’t allowed to drink as he has a big electronic bracelet wrapped around his left ankle; also, he is not allowed to drive because of the 3 DUI’s that warranted him that pretty bracelet. So, I drove his recently departed grandma’s 4 door, dark green KIA the mile to indulge our taste buds.

 AJ and I found out early on in our careers that both of us have a prime affinity for good food. I love working with him. Not only is he a workaholic but he is as much OCD as I am as well as energetic Not to mention that the dishes are done, the floor is mopped so much that you could eat of f of it, the white cutting boards are spotlessly clean and, George, our affectionately named Foreman grill, always has the best of the best slowly roasting the succulent flavors of filet mignon, homemade sausage, grass fed Australian new york strips, Chilean sea bass or wild shrimp at any given time. Not to mention our obvious and uncontrollable sweet tooth’s that warrants one of us to muster up cheesecake, carrot cake, chocolate covered gogi berries or Haagen Daas milk chocolate ice cream bars for.

After inhaling the perfectly cooked medium rare buffalo sliders and their counterpart potatoes, I left AJ there to wait for one of our other co workers so they could play a night of pool and shuffle board and drove grandma’s car back to the Sprouts parking lot just as Denise pulled up.

We drove to Bradbury Ranch to pick up her newly graduated seventeen year old daughter, Alicia and then picked up my Roman in Aurora and headed up I25 breaking for our weekend mountain retreat!

It’s been almost a year since leaving the concrete city. So different from the last 30 years of unbridled freedom to travel wherever and whenever the hearts desire inspires. We are always in Breck for Jordan’s birthday during the last week of September and previous to that were the four days spent in the San Isabel mountain side southwest of Pueblo during the 4^th of July. It seems like an eternity since my soul has felt exhilarated as we wind up I-70 through Evergreen. All of my senses are heightened and taking in every scent and sight  trying to file it away as if I were to never see it again.

An hour later we veer off the highway at Silverthorne and head west to Keystone. I’ve never been here, close, but it’s always been the elusive ski resort even though I had heard through the grapevine back in Snowmass that they had the best night skiing in the state. I love skiing in the dark….it reminds me of the nights at Alyeska with the Northern Lights dancing over the lifts lighting the trails in a rainbow of colors and stopping along a drift to lay in the powdered snow watching them dance. The dark inlet below illuminated by the whiteness of the mountains surrounding it and the peace that settles through your body as you are laying on a mountain top close enough to touch the sky in the middle of a vast wilderness and it’s your moment realizing that there is an entire world hustling and bustling in every corner of the world around you but not at this moment, right here, right now. It’s just you and the celestial.

That’s what the Colorado Mountains feel like. It doesn’t matter where you go, what ski or mining town you may venture into, it all feels like a world away from reality. It’s up here that priorities straighten out.

We unload are trunkful of necessities and satisfy our tummies with dinner at Dos Loco’s. The chile relleno is to die for. Not the saturated crispy ones you find at every street corner Mexican restaurant in the city but an actual traditional lightly egg white battered, montery cheese stuffed green poblano chile swimming in a verde and red pepper chili sauce. It lasted maybe a minute before it was literally inhaled. I know….my stomach doesn’t have teeth….but I couldn’t help it!! Well…..maybe it was two minutes. All I know is they should have had two or three or four on my plate. Obviously they were not aware that I am the world seeker of the best chile relleno. So far, hands down, it is at Isla Bonita on the main street of the ferry port Town of Bainbridge Island in northwest Washington. The tie for second is in La Junta, CO, at a whole in the wall family restaurant where the 18 yr old brother makes the best margaritas as the younger brother creates the traditional family dinner flair and La Bamba’s on the corner of Lincoln and S. Parker Road. Familiar tastes. Familiar places. Familiar smells. We polish off our plates and the four of us head back to the condo. Roman insists on sleeping on the couch  downstairs in the living room as the tv had cable hookup and cartoon network. Denise and I open a bottle of wine over a game of scrabble on the night deck. Hours pass and we finish our game of chess with words. After Denise retires upstairs and  Alicia and Roman pass out,  two sheets to dreamland lying across the living room couches. I feel good. I feel alive, refreshed, inspired, clear.......so I grab my coat off the hook by the front door and head out to the road in front of the complex.




Denise and I at Brewfest in Keystone!

The first step comes as a reminder that even in August in the mountains it can be breathtaking chilly. It’s so beautiful! The air is crisp and I can breathe! Even up here at 8000 feet, I can feel the depleted oxygen burning my chest with its simplicity. As I walk towards the base of the mountain backlit in moonlight my thoughts are consumed by how  far away I’ve fallen from my roots. From my desires. From my dreams. It happens every single time I cross the continental divide. It’s as if my entire life is seen in a snow globe, it’s in its true perspective, its pure authenticity. So apparent here and yet with the each mountain revelation, somehow, I get sucked back into Peyton’s Place in the city, never to leave. I feel like the princess in the tower. Because my daddy always said that I WAS a princess J…….once upon a time.

I walk along the base of the mountains listening to the river flow at Frey Gulch. I walk south to the highway 6 and cross to the river on the other side. The moon that was hidden just hours ago by the rain has peeked out and with the glass of 2001 Summerwood Zinfandel in my right hand, I lay down on the wet grass next to the flowing tributarylooking up into the sea of stars silhouetted by the massive mountain peaks and so close that I could set my glass down and trace their constellations with my fingers. I bridle up to the base of Montezuma as my mind races with the dreams so forgotten in the city world and the economic fall. How I’ve worked so hard my entire teenage and adult life to have nothing substantial of material value left. And, yet, I have everything. The one I love is elusive and financial security is yet a myth.

Do you remember how in Jesus’ most trying moments, he always escaped to the wilderness, this is where his clarity of discernment knew no bounds.

I think of Simon, I feel him. His intensity so close to me and yet so far. My body hungers for him, my heart yearns for the silent storm in his eyes. I see him so clearly here……a touch away and yet never close enough to hold forever. I feel the dampness of the grass through my clothes and yet my limbs extend to him. I wish he was here. He would be the one that I could lay here with and not say a word and yet understand the experience. In everything I see a piece of him. Will it ever let go. How strong is something intangible? How strong is the past?  How strong are societies social expectations?    

 It's now, in the night light with crickets playing all around me and the splash of river trout that I can see. See what inspires me. See what is. My reality.  

 Sometimes people follow their hearts.....others follow their logic and what is stable, what's secure. This world is going to eat me. Because it isn't true. Not my truth. The heart is so much more powerful than the head.  I will never go backward toward comfort and safety but forward toward uncertainty, discomfort and growth to pursue my passions in spite of any pain. I know with everything in me that if I back down I may break down. I believe the impossible becomes possible and am not tied to the limiting beliefs of my society or my past. I will not be broken by adversity but rather use it~ that within any pain lies hidden power that can be harnassed to become gold.

And through love comes grace.          


Keystone



Hockey

Dec 9, 2006

Current mood:happy

There is No Other Game.........

…………..like hockey!! Since moving to Denver a year and a half ago, I've been swept up in the passion that Colorado has with their sports. In the past, football has always been about anticipating the comfort on Thanksgiving afternoon, and Monday nights if  Dallas played, along with that one Sunday at the end of January that we patiently wait for.....and not just for the commercials!! Otherwise, the all American sports games have been brushed to the back burner waiting for the excitement of the playoff games. But, the enthusiasm of Denver is contagious.  For the first time in my adult life, I purchased the very basic, basic cable plan so I wouldn't miss a Broncos game, or Monday nights, or Sunday afternoons, or Saturday Nebraska college games. I've been sucked into this fun filled pastime wholeheartedly, however, there is one sport that at just the mere thought of it, makes my pulse race……..

Sleeping Lady with Anchorage in the foreground.

Last night we drove the highway down to Colorado Springs to watch the University of Anchorage Alaska and the University of Colorado play hockey. We sat in the 5th row up from the goal and with the first slam on the boards, the adrenaline kicked in. In one second, all rational emotions were gone, in one moment my childhood memories flooded into my head.  Memories of float planes, now with their skiis on the bottom, surrounding the perimeter of the lake as we shoveled the snow to the edges to clear the biggest rink a kid ever laid eyes on. We would walk the quarter mile early Saturday mornings with our father's shovels and our skates tied together and hanging off of our shoulders, bundled up for hours of freedom. The girls would be skating on one side swirling to their Miss America theme playing in their heads watching the boys chase that little black circle of rubber from one homemade snow goal to the other. We skated until our toes were numb, our fingers were blue, and our noses were red until the sun set across the inlet behind Sleeping Lady and our parents drove up in their trucks and beckoned us home with the promise of cups of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows from the Swiss Miss lady.

UAA dominated the first period scoring 4-1 and after realizing that we were the only ones in a sea of 2000 people whooping it up for the Seawolves, I knew this was going to be a GREAT game!!!! J Amidst generations of Tigers sporting yellow and gold coats, jerseys, tiger ears, painted tiger faces my first thought was that we should have worn the Alaskan green and gold, because the team needed to know that we were there in consuming support! With the help of the two vodka 7's, my normal self-restraint was cast aside!! The man seated next to me moved across the aisle and gave me back glances with a sneer every time Colorado had a little win.  Suddenly I felt like Mrs. Larkey.

Mrs. Larkey was a married mother of six that lived next to the elementary school. It wasn't a wealthy area compared to the neighborhood down the street, yet it was rich in spirit. She had a son named Robby. Robby was our star. Our school had two rinks, one with boards, one without,  available 24/7, he lived on that ice, and it showed. No one ever talked about Mr. Larkey, we didn't know who he was or where he was, but everyone talked about Mrs. Larkey because she was the loudest cheerleader in the crowd. Cool and tough.  She had a smile that would light up a room, and when she perceived any injustice on penalty calls…….oh boy, watch out!!!! I don't remember how many games from 5^th grade on that I saw her get into highly intense verbal altercations in the stands.....and winning ever single one of them! She was passionate about the game, and passionate about our team. Always.

The game intensified. By the middle of the second period UAA started losing their legs and Colorado was spending way too much time within reaching distance of our goalie. The third period began with the Tigers scoring their second goal. You would have thought by the insanity of the crowd that the Broncos had won the Super Bowl. Within minutes, they scored their third, then their fourth and then their fifth. The Tiger fans were ballistic. The man in front of me turned around and gave me a high five saying that he had listened to us all night and finally he could rub it in. However, God truly does exist, and with the scoring of their 5^th goal, He decided that since the Tigers had kicked the puck in with their skates, it was invalid. Hence the third period ended in a tie and the overtime began. Everyone in the arena was standing, screaming, until the Seawolves took over the ice and scored the winning goal. It was dead silent. Except for the handful of Alaskans that were there dancing around in circles, cheering and knowing  that for us, hockey isn't just a game…….it's engrained in our soul like baseball and football are to the lower 48'ers. It's how our winter weekends under the northern lights were spent on the lake beneath the stars. It's home. It's Mrs. Larkey.

Anchorage, Alaska at sunset.