When Gay Guys Go to Straight Roller Hockey
(Or My Evening With Hockey Shaun)

August 11, 2002


One of my Stud Buds drug us way outside the Perimeter under the guise of being able to watch "Hot Sweaty Men" at a place called "The Cooler", a skate park, of sorts, with two ice rinks and one roller rink. Despite the name, it was hotter than hell, and this fair flower was about to melt. But to his credit--they were hot. They were sweaty. And they were men. He just left the smelly part out.

Post-game, I grab his kid, who can't wait to see Daddy, figuring she's my passport to the locker room. Let me tell you, there was no way this pretty thing was going into that hole of a room called a changing room. It stunk so bad, it straightened (so-to-speak) the curls in my hair.

Despite the stench, I did learn a thing or too:

Okay. Oops.

I have always found the Chicken Dance an amazing phenomenon of the straight world.
And when it comes up, I am shocked and appalled. Here, Hockey Shaun demonstrates
the art of Hockey Chicken Dancing.

One of my favorite shots. The sense of motion, the soft light illuminating his masculine
athletic form. You can feel the energy swoosh by as Hockey Shaun creates
The Essence of Jock.

See Shaun lunge. Lunge, Shaun! Lunge.

"So, when did you know you were straight?" he asked. "Was it when you
started using duct tape to hold your ass pads in place?"

 

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