Reverend Ref +

SOMETIMES THINGS WORK DESPITE IT ALL

My last post was a mini-rant about the supposed broomball game last night. Today didn't start off much better.

I got to VC in time for a 9 am game. Nobody there.

9:30 -- nobody there.

I went back to the church. At least I've got a sermon to work on there. About 10, one of my parishioners comes in to get set up for the spaghetti lunch we were going to serve people. She mentions that the first game was supposed to be at 11.

Then another parishioner comes in to help set up. She says that the first game is at 10:30.

I am not amused. I am grumpy. How hard is it to keep to a schedule? Put something on a piece of paper and nail it to the door of the Pioneer Bar and follow it for crying out loud!!

So I put my cold weather gear on and wandered up to the rink. The games finally did start, but at half time people just sort of milled around for way too long. The schedule (if you can call it that) was haphazard at best. I worked games from about 10:30 until 2:40. Without a lunch break. The next game was supposed to be at 3.

key word ... supposed.

I zipped over to the church and swallowed a roll and some spaghetti that a parishioner put on a plate for me, then headed back out to the rink. On the way back I was flagged down by one of the people "in charge."

"Because people want to go see the log sawing competition, we've moved the game back by about 45 minutes."

So I went back to the church, leisurely ate the rest of my lunch, and headed back up to the rink and waited for everyone to show up. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Finally, about 4:30, the game began. The sun was sinking low into the horizon, casting long shadows on the rink. The mountains at sunset were beautiful, the sky was turning shades of pink. And a light breeze began to filter through the air.

Too bad it was 4 degrees. The game went into overtime. Lucky me. Incredibly someone scored with only 5 minutes gone by in OT. So I went back to the church and soaked my hands in warm water. They still hurt, but at least the feeling is back.

And tomorrow, well, tomorrow's another day.