Now I Can Say I've Been To The Nutcracker

So last night, I was coaching at my kid's hockey practice. The head coach of our team has never actually seen me play before, so that explains why he lets me coach the goalies. I have him convinced I have a clue- please don't tell him I'm full of shit. Coaches get to be on the bench for the games, and I really enjoy watching from there, instead of up in the stands with all the other humanoids.

Anyway, about 15 minutes in, I'm standing next to my kid Sam trying to give him some instruction. And he's doing a great job convincing me that I'm helping, even though we both know he's the one that should probably be teaching me how to do this bullshit.

The team was doing this passing drill, where they come down the ice, three at a time, pass the puck back and forth, and then take a shot. The kids at 13 and 14 can shoot pretty hard, so while the drill is in progress, I step pretty far off to the side so that I won't get hit by a stray shot. I wear a helmet, but that's really the only protection I have. Then when the drill goes back the other way, that's when I step back in and give some tips to Sam or Mac, who's our other goalie.

With me so far? Good...

So the boys took their shots at Sam, and I didn't really have anything to tell him at that moment, so I stayed about 15 feet to his left, watching the boys skate in the other direction. I didn't even look over at Sam.

Now, had I been looking that way, I might have noticed Assistant Coach Keith winding up to take an extra shot on Sam. He does that now and again to give the goalies a little extra work. Keith's a good friend of mine- big Canadian boy, about 6'2", 200 pounds. Grew up playing hockey, and can still shoot slap shots like bullets.

Had I also been looking in that direction, I may have also noticed that Keith was shooting from Sam's right, and I was on the left, still 15 feet wide of the goal.

Finally, if I would have looked in that direction, I just might have realized that Keith missed his shot very, very badly. So instead putting his slapshot on goal, the puck instead made a beeline for...

Wait for it...

My right testicle.

I don't know how it was possible, but that puck, which is 4 inches around and an inch thick, hit nothing except my right nut. Not "lefty", not any part of my leg, not even Mr. Pee Pee (good thing it hangs naturally to the left). I'm talkin' nothing else. Full impact, directly on the right clanger.

Kids, I've been playing sports for over 40 years, plus I have four kids, so I'm no stranger to getting hit in the gonards. Shit, pinatas haven't been hit as many times as my daughter has hit me in the balls. But I have never, ever experienced the pain that went through me when that missile connected with it's target.

From what I understand, I made the "Lee Harvey Oswald Face" when the puck arrived at it's final destination. What's the "Lee Harvey Oswald Face", you ask? It goes a little something like this:


By the way, super security job by the Dallas police on this one...

I felt an immediate burning pain, and looked down just in time for the puck to release from by nut, and drop harmlessly to the ice, right in front of me. At first glance, it did not appear that my right ball had done any damage to the puck. I made a grunt like Chewbacca from Star Wars, and looked for a soft place to lay down for a moment.

But for some reason, my brain wouldn't let me go down. Maybe because it knew that if I hit the ice knees-first, they would both snap like balsa wood, and I would have even more problems. So I dropped my stick and gloves, and headed immediately to the sanctuary of the locker room.

My good pal Keith came over right away, and did an admirable job of being very concerned, while trying not to laugh his ass off. I don't think he realized just how hard that goddamn puck hit me, and I was trying very hard to be a man in front of the kids.

I got into the locker room, and discovered that I was going to be ill, and very soon. That's always been my barometer for injury- I know I'm really hurt if I have to barf. And barf I did, boys and girls...

I stood there for awhile, and tried to wait for the pain to go away. That's what happens when you get hit in the nuts, right? It hurts for a little bit, and then subsides. Right?

Wrong. It ached, and ached, and then ached some more. I could tell that this was one that was going to linger for awhile. I went back out and tried to sit on the bench, but then about five minutes later, I had to go back in and blow chunks again. This was not good.

So practice ended, and I went to the coaches locker room and spent maybe the longest five minutes of my life, taking off my skates. And then walked gingerly out to the car, and spent the longest 10 minutes of my life driving home.

I didn't know what else to do, so I walked into the house, grabbed a bag of frozen cranberries, and headed downstairs to my easy chair. Believe it or not, this raised a little curiosity from my lovely wife Annie, as to why I was carefully placing the cranberries meant for Thanksgiving upon my groinal region, and whimpering like a starving puppy.

So I regaled her with my story, hoping for a little sympathy and concern. When I finished, I looked over, and she had her head buried in her pillow, her body silently shaking all over. And I guess Sam must have broken the news to my oldest son Mike, because I could hear that little fucker laughing all the way upstairs in his bedroom.

To her credit, Annie tried to make it up to me later on. She said her mom had given her some Percocets just in case we ever needed them, and she would be happy to run and get me one. She left for a moment, and then came sashaying down the stairs holding a little pill with a "P" etched in it. I was very grateful to her as I gobbled that sucker down, and didn't take any other medicine. I didn't want to risk mixing painkillers, and pull a Heath Ledger right before the holidays.

But I was still uncomfortable all night. The pain just wouldn't go away, and I hardly got any sleep. It was like the Percocet wasn't working at all.

That turned out to be because the pill wasn't a fucking Percocet. She accidentally grabbed a Prilocec, which is a heartburn medication. So the bad news was that there was nothing helping the throbbing in my nut. But the good news was that I could have eaten that chimichanga before bedtime without having to worry about anything.

Fuck me.

Dear Santa,

I'd like to think I've been a good boy this year. All I want for Christmas is a new family. At this point, they can even be French. I don't give a shit anymore. Dude, I'll do whatever it takes. I'll blow you at the mall. Just get me the fuck outta here, will you please, big fella?

Love,
Al

So this morning, after some medication that could actually help a little, some of the pain has subsided.

However, I've got a new situation, kids.

My right nut is currently three times the size of my left. For dimensional purposes only, imagine a golf ball next to a tennis ball. Neither are that big, but the difference is about right. I've got the cranberries out again (fuck it, I already wrecked Thanksgiving), and I'm hoping this gets better soon.

Otherwise I'm going to have to get some custom made khakis for work. Anyone out there know a seamstress?

Who's Better- Me Or My Kid?

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it before in an article, but I have a son called Sam that plays goalie for Arvada Colorado Junior Hockey. He's 13, which makes him a first-year Bantam, for those of you that know about hockey age groups.

Come to think of it, the names of the age groups in hockey are a little bit strange. The small kids start out as "Mites", and when they turn nine, they become "Squirts". Two years later, they're "Pee Wees", then go to "Bantams" when they're 13. When they turn 15, they play in "Midgets", which is the last level for junior hockey.

I'm surprised there aren't levels called "Half Pints", "Shrimps", or "Little Fuckers". Whoever invented this system must have been some kind of problem with vertically challenged people. If that person happens to be reading this, I think I speak for small hockey players everywhere when I say... suck my balls.

Anyway, when Sam turned seven, he decided that he wanted to be like his old man, and try to play goalie one time. So we borrowed some of the equipment that they had down at the arena, strapped on the tiny little pads, and took him out on the ice. He got hooked straightaway, and he never wanted to do anything else. That was six years ago.

Fast forward to today. He's played on competitive travel teams for four seasons, and you know what?

This kid can fuckin' play.

I've had the pleasure of being his coach for the whole time he's been playing, mainly because goalie coaches don't exactly grow on trees, and most head coaches know jack-shit about the position. I fill a pretty nice niche.

So I've taught him everything I know, which took a grand total of about ten minutes, and have watched him get better and better as the years have gone by. But this season, he has dialed his game up to a whole new level.

(Writer's note: Here's the part where I'm going to brag on my kid for a minute. I realize it's annoying, but it gives some perspective to the rest of the article, plus it's my blogsite, so... you know, kiss my ass.)

The season's still early, but he's standing on his friggin' head (that's a hockey term for you gringos out there). He's played in one tournament and three league games (against the top three teams in the league, by the way), is saving 94% of the shots, and has a 1.6 goals against average. His latest effort came last Saturday, where we got outshot 33-11, and came away with a 1-1 tie. He totally stole a point for us. He's never played better in his life.

While we were driving home from that game, a few questions started running through my mind.

Is he better than me?

How does my game stack up against his?

Why do farts smell worse in the shower?

To answer those questions (except maybe that last one), I decided to break both of our games down by categories, and add up the check marks at the end. Nice and scientific, right? I was always real good at the book learnin'. Here goes:

1. Stature:

Sam- 4'11", weighs about 80 pounds. Just for comparison sake, our other goalie is 6'2", and weighs about 180. I know that's freakish for a 13 year old, but still, my guy is not real big. It's funny watching them together while they're doing drills at practice. Sam got completely and utterly fucked in the gene pool- nobody on either side of our families is over 5'8" fully grown. We're a short, round people, the Sterners.

SFG- 5'6", around a buck-seventy. I certainly cover more net. Let's hear it for girth!

Advantage:SFG

2. Health:

Sam- 13 years old. He can run all day long, and his legs are so strong, he could crack walnuts with his thighs.

SFG- Just turned 51. I get exhausted putting my skates on, and I couldn't crack an egg with my thighs. My knees feel like they've been beaten daily with a cricket bat.

Advantage:Sam

3. Fundamentals

Sam- He can get down in a pure "butterfly position", where his legs are together, and his pads stick straight out to each side. There is no "five-hole", which is a gap between his pads.

SFG- I can get into a butterfly position, but unfortunately the butterfly is in the "cocoon" stage. When I try to expand my pads to either side, my hip sockets make a sound like a rusty gate opening. You could drive an aircraft carrier through my five hole.

Advantage: Sam

3. Equipment

Sam- Has all the latest pads, including some sweet Nike/Bauer One-75 leg pads that match Arvada's colors (very similar to Boston). Just got in the glove and blocker- he looks and feels terrific.

SFG- I have a lifetime membership at Play It Again Sports. My pads are the Gump Worsley autograph model. Who's Gump Worsley, you ask?


He didn't need these pads anymore- he sort of dead

Advantage: Sam


4. Flexibility

Sam- Can do the full splits with his pads flat on the ice.

SFG- The last time I tried that, my scrotum ripped open, and one of my balls rolled out of my hockey pants. Took most of the second period to find it, and my voice has been up an octave ever since.

Advantage- Sam

5. Recovery Skills

Sam- He can get back up from his seat or his back simply by flipping his legs under himself and popping up to a standing position.

SFG- If I happen to end up on my back, I just wave my little arms and legs like a turtle, until one of my defensemen rolls me over. I wear one of those rescue buttons around my neck like the old lady in the commercial. The only popping I do is four Advils into my mouth before I play.

Advantage: Sam

6. Balance

Sam- He can do a smooth pad-slide across the crease going both ways, keeping his back nice and straight, thus covering more area of the net. He distributes his weight so that he always has equal balance on both legs.

SFG- My balance depends mainly on which knee hurts the most on a given night. When lefty hurts, then more weight on the right. I never know until I get to the rink which one it's going to be. Oh, and I pad-slide like old people fuck; which is slowly and badly, in case you were wondering.

Advantage-Sam

7. On-Ice Demeanor

Sam- If he gets scored on, he just fishes the puck out of the net, and gets ready for the next shot. He doesn't give up many softies, but puts them behind him very quickly. We goalies call that a "short memory". Stays very calm on the ice.

SFG- I die just a little bit every time I get scored on. I recall and am still pissed about every bad goal I've ever surrendered. That list is immense, by the way. Calm would not be the word I'd use for my behavior during a game.

Advantage: Sam

In a related topic:

8. Swearing After Being Scored On

Sam- Says "dang it" once in a blue moon. I heard him say "Jesus Christ" once.

SFG- I've invented 275 different phrases involving the word "cocksucker". I can swear for three minutes without repeating a word, and have done so many times as I've dug the puck out of my net. I'm not good at many things, but boys and girls, I can really swear.

Advantage- SFG (This probably shouldn't have been a category, but I needed a win, so there.)

Okay, let's just tally up the scores, shall we?

Sam has better equipment, fundamentals, flexibility, balance, recovery skills, and on-ice demeanor.

I'm fatter, and I can swear better than he can.

Hang on a sec while I get out my calculator...

Still working the numbers...

Yep, he's better than I am. Fuck, it's not even close.

Yeah, I can live with that...

Cobra Kai Sweeps the Leg- Defeats Dawgs 5-4

The Dawgs I squad experienced the bitter taste of defeat for the first time this season Tuesday night, when they went down to their good pals Cobra Kai, by a 5-4 margin. The good guys rallied all the way back from a 4-1 second period deficit to tie the score, but couldn't quite get over the hump in the third, surrendering the game winner with around five minutes remaining.

Cobra Kai forward and former Royal Canadian Air Force commander Jon Jay led the way for his team, netting two goals, including the game winner in the third.


Jay, left, heading into battle

For the Dawgs, young Michael Heaton scored his second and third goals of the season, keying the second period comeback that fell just short.

Shaun Hollis tallied for his second consecutive game, knocking in his fourth of the fall, while Danny "Intent to Injure!" Packard scored his fifth, and managed to play the whole game without rolling around on the ice like a giant pussy.


Packard

The Dawgs were playing several men short Tuesday night, missing some key players that might have helped change the outcome. Included were Chris Acuna (wife expecting any day), Nathaniel Akell (jail), Brad Stabio (making new documentary), Tyson Dale (suspended/anger issues), Dan Pham (gay), and captain Marty Richardson (out of country...and exceptionally gay).

Goalie Al Sterner gave it his all, but unfortunately these days Sterner gets to "all" much faster than he used to, and could not summon the reserve energy to keep the puck out of the net in the third period with the game tied at four.

The road doesn't get any easier for the Dawgs this week, when they face Dr Five Hole for the second time this season. The Dawgs prevailed in the last meeting 7-4, but Dr Five Hole has a high powered offense, which is scoring at almost eight goals per game.

In other Dawgs news:

This week the EAHL announced that in a special promotion, Tuesday they would honor Cobra Kai forward Jonathan Ripley by giving him his own Bobblehead Night.


Stop kicking my ass and I'll leave you boys alone, Rips...

This week forward/defenseman Brad Stabio missed the game in order to film an autobiographical documentary. In the film, he spikes his hair, puts on a sweet purple shirt with pink stripes, drinks way too much and experiences life on the other side of the fence. It's titled, "Stabio: Portrait of a Part Time Fag".


Nice lazy eye, Stabs...

18 year old Dawgs rookie forward Josh Adams attempted to eat pussy for the first time in his life this week. The experience was not all that he had hoped for.


"Was it good for you?"

While Dawgs captain Marty Richardson was in Europe this week, Dawgs II defenseman Eddie Cribbs stopped by to make sure Richardson's wife Cindy was doing okay. The visit lasted exactly 27 seconds.


"You're done? Really? Uh, next time, could you at least lift up my dress, Speedy?"

Even though he spent most of the week working, Richardson was able to spend some time at his favorite Amsterdam landmark.

Even wore a jumpsuit in case he got spooged on

Dawgs Melt Ice Pack- Stay Unbeaten

The Dawgs I squad kept rolling through the first half of the winter EAHL season last Tuesday night, with a solid 7-3 victory over the Ice Pack. They are now a perfect 6-0 on the new campaign, and maintain a four point lead on the Ozone, whom they defeated 9-6 last week.

The Dawgs continue to feature a balanced scoring attack, with six different players lighting the lamp. They were again led by the "Beast From the Far East" Dan Pham, who dropped back on defense due to the unexplained absence of Tito Pijanowski. He tallied two key goals in the second period, and helped keep the high scoring Ice Pack team in check with solid play at the blue line.

The other Dawgs scorers included Tyson Dale, who managed a pretty goal before getting into a rumble with the Ice Pack's Jason Gregory and being ejected in the first period, Shaun Hollis on a shorthanded breakaway, and Michael Heaton, who banged in his first of the season.

Rounding out the Dawgs' scoring were Nathaniel Akell, who just keeps plugging along, knocking in his fifth, and teen wonder Josh Adams, who also notched his fifth of the fall. Adams also made the defensive play of the game, clearing the puck off of the goal line after it had eluded goalie Al Sterner. Adams was later admonished by his fellow center Matt McGarvey for playing too much defense, and vowed never to let that happen again.


McGarvey, playing his standard defense

The Dawgs jumped out early, scoring the game's first three goals, and never really looked back. The Ice Pack scored in the first to close to within two, but Pham's two markers in the second put things pretty much out of reach.

Even though they scored eight goals the last time the two teams met, the Ice Pack didn't have the same firepower, and Sterner actually played with his head outside his ass this time, holding them to a season low.


Usually gives up at least this many

But there were some interesting occurences during the game. In the first period, while coming off the ice on a line change, defenseman Brad Stabio played the puck after his replacement had already come on, resulting in a two minute penalty.



Later in the period Tyson Dale was given a game misconduct for fighting with Jason Gregory, even though neither player dropped their gloves. This resulted in a one game suspension for Dale. A distraught Dan Pham vowed this week not only to wear Dale's mildly gay purple sock as a sign of unity, but also to wear Dale's protective jockstrap.


Pham's bulge will never be this big

In the second period, young Josh Adams received a ten minute misconduct after delivering a hard check along the boards. Linemate Dennis Heaton told Adams' mom, and Adams was given a "time out" after he got home.


Adams

Later in the second, forward Danny Packard was nudged from behind by an Ice Pack player, and rolled around on the ice like a Portuguese soccer player. As he protested no penalty being called, a high pitched squeal came from someplace other than his mouth. It was later determined that Packard had executed the perfect queef.




The Dawgs attempt to keep their unbeaten streak alive tonight when they play against their old pals and charter members of Dawg Nation, Cobra Kai. Cobra Kai won their first game of the season last week over Dr Five Hole, 8-6, and are always dangerous, featuring Canadian import Jonathan Jay. Not an intelligent man, Jay still hasn't quite learned how to breath from his nose.


Leave him alone- he's from "America Jr."

In other Dawgs news:

This week Dawgs captain and former fanny miner Marty Richardson went on a business trip to Amsterdam, Holland. He wasted no time in blending in with his new surroundings.

The hardest part was finding wooden shoes that small

Richardson's wife Cindy showed how she will be spending the week while Marty is in Europe.


Geez, Cindy, this was just way too easy

Dawgs Make Hole In Ozone- Stay Undefeated

The Dawgs I squad remained the only undefeated team in the EAHL Tuesday night, after a solid 9-6 victory against the high-scoring Ozone. With the maximum 10 points earned, the boys are now four points clear of the closest teams in the league, which are Ozone and Dr. Five Hole.

Center Dan Pham led the way once again for the Dawgs, scoring his sixth and seventh goals of the young season, and adding two assists. He now has 13 points for the season, which strangely is only good for fifth place in the offense-heavy EAHL.

Dawgs rookie and 2009 Bear Creek High School graduate Josh Adams also scored his third and fourth goals, while the ambiguously gay duo of Shaun Hollis and Matt McGarvey each tallied in the third period.


"Hey-smell my finger!"

Nathaniel Akel continued his consistent play, knocking in his fourth of the year, Tyson Dale scored his fourth, and even Dawgs captain and former pickle smoocher Marty Richardson got into the act, netting his second of the fall season.

Goalie Al Sterner would have had a reasonable game, but checked out mentally for the final three minutes, giving up a trio of goals to make the score much closer than the game actually was. But even with that three minute abortion, Sterner still leads the wide-open EAHL in lowest goals against, with a wafer thin 4.6 average.

Sterner draws inspiration from his lovely, petite and shy daughter Lauren, who is his biggest fan.


"You're number one, daddy!"

Now having played every team in the league, the Dawgs start over again Tuesday night, when they clash with the Ice Pack at 10:40. The last time the two teams met, it was opening night, and the Dawgs won a tight goalie duel, 11-8. Sterner tried to shoot himself after the game after surrendering eight goals, but the bullet went straight through his five hole.

In other Dawgs news:

This week Kelly Fraser, girlfriend of Dawgs II defenseman Nigel Richardson, showed how she remains satisfied while living with a man three times her age.

Caught herself a whopper there

In a show of unity, last week linemates Tyson Dale and Dan Pham each decided to wear one purple sock as part of their game uniform. After the game, Pham revealed what he did with the other sock.

In a close vote, Pham was named the Dawgs' Asian Player of the Week. He just edged out Tito Pijanowski, who is not Asian, but does enjoy having sex with Siamese twins. So that's close enough.

"Tito not sure where to put pee-pee..."

Dawgs Bitch Slap Skanks To Go 4-0

The Dawgs I squad continued their perfect start to the winter EAHL campaign Tuesday night, breaking open a close game in the third period and romping to a convincing 9-2 win against the Skanks. It was a small measure of revenge for the Dawgs, as they defeated the team that took them out of the summer league playoffs back in August.

The Dawgs featured a balanced attack, getting goals from seven different players. Only centers Dan Pham and Nathaniel Akell scored more than once, and the team played solid defense, holding the high-scoring Skanks to just a pair.

The Dawgs jumped out early Tuesday night, when Akell found himself skating in on a breakaway, and completely undressed opposing goalie Mark Jacobsen, tucking the puck past his quivering carcass.

A few minutes later, Pham doubled the lead for the Dawgs, poking home a rebound from rookie linemate Tyson Dale. Whether playing center or defense, as he did last week against Dr. Five Hole, Pham has managed to remain consistently Asian for the entire season. And just cute as a button.


Pham

Before the end of the period, the Skanks struck back to cut the lead in half, as forward Eric Allen tipped a centering pass by Dawgs goalie Al Sterner.

A few minutes into the second, Dawgs forward Matt McGarvey banged one past Jacobsen to restore the two goal lead. Then, after Skanks winger Spencer Tscherpel made Sterner look like a complete boner on a breakaway, finding his massive five-hole, the Dawgs went back up again by a pair when Danny Packard scored his fourth of the young season.

Packard is playing his first winter season in several years after finally graduating from the Colorado State University at Pueblo. Packard is the first member of his family to achieve a four year degree, although it did take him just a shade under a decade to get it.


Future business giant

So beginning the third, it was 4-2 and still anyone's contest. But matters were quickly settled when the Dawgs exploded for five unanswered goals to put the game way out of reach. Akell scored his second of the game, new linemates Dennis Heaton and rookie Josh Adams each got one, Dale stuffed in his fourth of the season, and Pham completed the romp with his second of the contest and fourth of the winter campaign.

Heaton's goal was especially satifying, considering that he is 15 years older than the combined age of his two linemates.


Heaton, right

Now 4-0 on the new season, the Dawgs are the only undefeated team in the league. They face their toughest test of the fall this coming Tuesday night, when they play against an Ozone squad that has put up 12 and 13 goals in their last two contests. Which means:


There could be a lot of this...

In other Dawgs news:

Dawg Nation would like to give belated congratulations to the Dawgs II squad, who won another Edge Cup, taking home the 2009 summer league championship. It is quite an achievement, especially since the combined age of the team is 1639.


Click to enlarge. On second thought, don't. Jesus Christ...

Kelly Fraser, the teenaged girlfriend of Dawgs II defenseman Nigel Richardson, left her job as a stockbroker last week. She will now follow her lifelong dream of being a simple country hooker.


Will accept cash, hogs and chickens

Dawgs captain Marty Richardson rented his home in Ft. Collins this week to a group of Colorado State University cheerleaders. There was only one small stipulation as part of the lease.

Bending over was the easy part...

Because of a recent weight loss, a whole new career opportunity has opened up for Dawgs goalie Al Sterner.


Just try to get this image out of your head

Recent health problems have begun to plague the career of Marty Richardson. First, he received an arm injury that has hindered an already weak wrist shot:


Shake it off, pussy...

Then he received a high stick during a game that broke his front tooth:

In a totally unrelated matter, there has been a recent flood of visits to emergency rooms all over Denver, with hundreds of men suffering from a lacerated penis.

The Marine At Red Rocks

(Writer's note: For both of you out there that read this blog, you're probably used to a certain style of writing from me. I guess the best way to describe it would be "potty humor". But today I need to step away from the dick jokes for just a little bit. I promise I'll get back to the usual smut, but something happened a couple of weeks ago. And it wasn't funny. But I can't stop thinking about it, and I feel like the story needs to be told, so bear with me, okay? Thanks.)

So a few Saturday nights ago, I was working a concession stand at Red Rocks Ampitheater for the last concert event of the season, featuring the Irish punk band, Flogging Molly. Annie and I volunteer periodically to work there, because the funds that are raised benefit our kids' soccer and hockey programs.

For those of you that aren't from around here, if you're ever in Denver, you need to experience a concert at Red Rocks. It's a beautiful natural ampitheater, and the acoustics are terrific. Even if there's no concert, just go up to the park and walk around. Just trust your little pal on this- you have to see it.

Anyway, the concert was nearing the end (surprisingly entertaining- great combination of Irish music and rock), and I was standing at the top of the stairs waiting for Annie to finish up with some paperwork. She's our stand manager- just another excuse for her to tell me what to do.

While I was waiting, this kid came walking up to me, saw my Red Rocks hat, and I guess assumed that I worked there. He asked, "Sir, is there anywhere here that I can still get a beer?" I flinched a little bit from being called "sir", but I explained to him that alchohol was cut off an hour before the end of the concert, so that everyone could sober up a bit before they drove down the mountain and went back to Denver. So no beer in the whole park.

The kid was bummed, just like everyone is when I tell them that alchohol is cut off. "Sir, is there a bar around here? I'm not ready to stop partying yet- this is so great up here! I've only been in town a couple of days."

He seemed like a nice kid- honestly, I was surprised that he was old enough to be able to buy a beer. Big boy- around 6'2", maybe 210 pounds, and built like a brick shithouse. But he had a teenage kid's face. I asked him why he was in town.

"I just got stationed here, sir. I'm a Marine."

Well, at least that explained why he kept calling me "sir", instead of "dude", which was my usual moniker at Red Rocks. And for the first time, I didn't mind it a bit. Kind of seemed right coming from him.

Then I did what I always do when I meet a member of our Armed Services. I looked him in the eye, shook his hand, and thanked him for his service. They don't hear that nearly enough, and they deserve to. When I'm volunteering at Red Rocks, and I see a military ID when I'm carding for alchohol, I almost always find a way to give them a free beer or two.

Because I love these guys.

Without launching into a big flag waving musical number, these young men and women, along with cops and firefighters, are my heroes. I mean, how can you not love people that will put their lives on the line every day for somebody that they don't even know? It boggles my mind how they can go to work knowing that there is a chance that they won't come home that night. And what it must be like to be a member of their family.

Anyway, I introduced myself, and found out that his name was Joe, and he was from Atlanta. I asked him if he was having fun at the concert.

"I was, sir, but I got into a little fight with a guy a few minutes ago. The guy was drunk, and bumped into me while my friend and I were watching the show. Next thing I know, he's jumping around, showing me these karate moves, and asking me if I want to "go" with him."

I laughed. "He must have been plastered. You're the size of a Chevy."

He smiled. "I identified myself as a Marine, and told him that I didn't want to fight. Then the security guys came over, and it looked like everything was calmed down. Then the guy breaks away from the guard, rushes over and tries to take a swing at me."

"Big mistake?"

"Yes, sir. I had to put him into the ground. His face was bleeding a little bit when security took him out."

"You're still here, though. You didn't catch any shit?"

"The security guy was pretty pissed when the other guy broke away from him. He told me that he heard me identify myself, and that he was actually happy that the guy got fucked up. I wish it hadn't happened, though. I don't like to fight."

Then he apologized for his language, and I explained to him that I was a hockey goalie, and have invented more ways to say "fuck" than he could ever imagine. He smiled again.

I continued with Joe while I wondered how drunk a guy has to be in order to take a swing at a big mother-ripper that has identified himself as a Marine. Holy cow, I've been drunk, but I've never been that drunk.

"Have you done a tour in Iraq yet, Joe?"

"No sir-I just got back from Afghanistan. I was there for nine months."

"See any action?"

"I'm a sniper, sir. It's my job to make sure that our patrols can go from one place to another without being shot at or bombed. It's really hard, though, because there are mountains everywhere, and it's pretty easy for the enemy to hide."

"They don't let just anybody be a sniper, do they?"

"No sir. There were 300 in my training class, and only 12 of us made it all the way through. It's all I ever wanted to do." I could tell he was proud of that.

I know a little bit about guns- not because I ever shoot, but because my dad and brother are big-time hunters. Myself, I never really got that gene. I can knock the shit out of spiders, but other than that, I'm not real big on making other things die. I don't have a problem at all with the concept of hunting, and I very much enjoy a big juicy steak- it's just not my thing. Anyway, we talked a little bit about his weapon, and how hard it is to shoot accurately from great distances.

I asked, "Can you tell if you've made an accurate shot, other than that their shooting stops?"

"I have a partner, sir. He's my spotter. He has a high powered scope, so when I take a shot, he looks for a puff of blood. That's how we know if I got him."

At that very moment the entire tone of our conversation changed. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but it hit me right then that I was speaking to a kid that had killed another human being. As far as I know, that was a first for me.

"Does that happen a lot, Joe?"

"Yes, sir. I have 22 confirmed kills, but I know it's a lot more than that." And as much as I could tell that he was proud to have been selected as a sniper, I knew from his tone and his facial expression that he was absolutely not proud of that fact.

Quietly, I said, "Well, your fellow soldiers are pretty lucky to have a guy like you watching their backs, Joe."

That's all it took. It was like I flipped a switch. Maybe it was because Joe had a few beers in him, but he certainly wasn't drunk. Maybe it was because I'm probably around his dad's age. Maybe it was because I'm pretty easy to talk to. But whatever the reason, Joe needed to let some things out, even it was to a total stranger.

So I did what I thought was the best thing I could do. I listened to the kid.

He spent the next 15 or 20 minutes talking to me about some of his experiences over there.

"Sir, I know it's my job, and I know they're the enemy, but I can't explain how it feels to kill a guy. It just doesn't seem right. I mean, I've taken maybe 50 guys out since I've been a Marine, and I think about it every day. I have nightmares. I try to put it out of my mind, but it never leaves me. "

I said that it must help knowing that he's protecting his brothers from potential harm.

"It's how I get through, sir. The guys in my unit are my family. We don't ever call anyone by their last names. It's way too impersonal. I'm closer to those guys than I'll ever be with my own family. They're the only ones that understand how I feel."

He hesitated a second, and looked down at the ground. I could tell there was something specific on his mind, and it wasn't good. I was torn between wanting him to tell me, and dreading what he might say. But it was clear that he needed to get something off his chest, and the absolute least I could do was give him my ear.

"What are you thinking, Joe?"

"This one day, we were on patrol, and the guys on the ground spotted an abandoned car. That's where the enemy will plant IED's (improvised explosive devices), so they approached, while my partner and I were up in the hills, looking for snipers. My best friend Michael was one of the guys by the car.

"Then I heard some shots from the mountains, but my partner and I couldn't find where they were coming from. The only way to really spot a sniper is to look for the flash from his rifle when he shoots. Otherwise, it's just too hard to find them in all those rocks. We knew the general direction, but we just couldn't find the shooter.

"I radioed down that we couldn't spot the gun yet, and they needed to take cover. Then I looked through my scope down at our guys, and..."

He stopped. I looked up at him, and this poor, tortured, giant kid was choking back tears. Oh, no...

"Mike got hit. I saw his chest explode. I watched my best friend die, sir. He got killed because I couldn't find the sniper in time."

By the way, my oldest son is called Mike. I thought about him right then.

I tried, "Joe, you can't blame yourself because you couldn't find a gunbarrel that was 1000 yards away. You just can't."

"It's my job, sir. I have to keep my guys safe."

Holy shit, this kid was in a lot of pain. "Joe, you need to talk to somebody about this. You can't just bottle it all up, and hope it gets easier. You have to talk to somebody."

"I can't, sir. I'm afraid they won't let me be a Marine anymore. It's all I know. I drink a lot, sir. It helps me forget for awhile sometimes."

I found myself thinking, how many of these kids have the same stories, and the same memories? I grew up watching war movies, and the soldiers were all like John Wayne, or Henry Fonda. They were all in their 30's or 40's, and tougher than hell. The movies made it look like it was almost romantic, going to war.

But it's not like that at all, is it? The majority of today's soldiers are children, most just a year or two out of high school. They've had their friggin' driver's license for two or three years. And I know the Army needs them to be young because they're in their physical prime, and can be easily molded to do what they're told.

But what happens to these kids when they get back from battle? How do they reconcile what they've seen, and what they've done? There has to be thousands of young men and women like Joe, that will be seeing enemies die by their hands, and watching their friends die over and over in their minds for the rest of their lives. How is it possible to ever live a normal life after that horror?

I'm sure this problem has existed as long as there have been soldiers going to war. But it never really hit home for me until my conversation with Joe. These kids don't stop being soldiers when their service ends, and they come back to the real world. They're soldiers for the rest of their lives, and I'll never be able to repay the sacrifice they've made to keep all of us safe.

I've thought a lot about Joe since that Saturday night at Red Rocks. The last thing I did was shook his hand again, put my hand on his shoulder, and thanked him a last time for so bravely serving his country. I wish we would have exchanged phone numbers, so that I could have called and checked on him every once in awhile. Or he could have called me if he needed someone to talk to again, since he was so far from home in Atlanta. I really regret that. I wish there was a way I could find him, but I never even got his last name. But I'll never forget that night, and that Marine.

And one thought keeps going through my mind over and over again.

God, please make sure my kids never have to go to war.