VITAL STATISTICS
Dreamer: Tim
Date: Sept. 13, 2000
Title: British Hockey
I was in large log cabin on the edge of a field on a clear winter day. The walls were lined with cross country skis and the place was crowded with people dressed in comfortable fall clothes (they all looked as if they all were going to a contra dance) Out the window I could see that the nearby field had what looked like a soccer field lined up in the middle of it except that it had 4 goals, one on each side of the field.
I wandered out the door and found an Adirondak chair and settled in just as the people started heading out the door in a single file line towards the feild. One of the men was handing out hockey sticks and masks to people as they passed by. For some reason, a VERY large man burst out of the woods , tackled one of the people in the line and slammed him to the ground. The next guy in line then whacked the large guy with a hockey stick and the man ran back into the woods. The hockey stick weilder then helped the guy on the ground back up. The nose of the man who had been attacked was mashed and blood was pouring down the front of his shirt as several of his teammates helped back inside.
At this point I noticed a woman sitting next to me watching this with horror. She was fairly short with thick long curly red hair, and gorgeous deep brown eyes. She was wearing a loose green cotton blouse, and a long brown skirt.
"This should NEVER happen in British Hockey!" she said as she turned to me. She had a thick english accent so of course being a dolt I asked her if she was from England.
"Yes, have you ever been there?"
"Nope, never could afford a ticket, but always thought that I'd like to go someday"
"Why don't you walk then?" She asked. "All you need to do is wait for the winter and when the water freezes, just go up across the pole."
I mentioned that I thought that the North Sea never froze enough for me to walk all the way to England.
"I'll just check with my brother."
She got up and went out into the field. When I looked out into the field, I saw that all the players had formed into a large circle around the man who had beaten off the large guy with his hockey stick. he was gazing intently at his feet while the person that I thought was the captain was berating him about how this was BRITISH hockey, NOT AMERICAN hockey. He turned to the rest of the team and they voted him out of the team. The woman I had been talking to ran up to him and they both left in tears (he was her brother)
As I watched this oddness unfold, Gretchen (my wife) came up next to me and asked me to help her find better directions to an art show on the computer. I turned around and saw that the outside of the log cabin had little log alcoves with 'Adirondak' style computer desks on the side. I went over and shook the pine needles off the keyboard and began to start trying to find this art show for her. And then I woke up.
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