Remember Aerobics? Well, forget it: the next big sports boom might come from anaerobic sports. Athletic performance is always a little edgier while holding your breath and Underwater  Hockey has been steadily carving out a niche in the United States.
Once you get over the "underwater basketweaving" chuckles, Underwater Hockey (we might end up calling it "UWH" further down) doesn't seem like all that peculiar of an idea. Especially if you are a free diver: in which case it's like a hackey-sacker suddenly finding out there's a American Hacking League. The sport has been big in Australia and Europe for years, but slower to catch on in the U.S. for some reason. Maybe because it will never make it as a spectator sport--only one part of its unique charm.
Unlike water polo, in which players might THINK they're spending the whole game on the bottom of the pool, UWH is played entirely on the bottom. The puck, either brass or weighted polycarbonate, slides on a pool bottom, propelled towards small creases at each end. The sticks are a little over a foot long, shaped to allow pushing the puck shuffleboard style, hooking it in like a croupier, or spinning it out in a shot or pass. Players wear masks, fins and snorkles (often bobbed off for quicker recovery gulping). Some clubs claim that trunks are optional, but ear protectors are required in all tournaments and most clubs in order to keep the thrust from a fin from popping an eardrum during a melee.
That got you attention, didn't it? Yes, imagine a three-dimensional swarm of divers going after a puck, struggling to control it, fighting the need to leave the fray to breathe. Now picture this: you're lying on the surface, recovering your breath while watching a player working towards your goal with the puck. Timing is everything. You wait, you shift, then you blast downwards, twisting like an P-38 peeling off for a strafing run, dropping in like a Stuka. You arrive at the puck in a slash of speed and impact, pounding in like a swordfish. You sweep in low, raking under the aggressor's sheltering body, to pop the puck out where you can pounce on it, and head back towards the goal. Defenders swoop in as you weigh the possibilities of a smashing drive toward the goal or a sudden, sneaky pass to the team-mate you see plunging into position. You've been down under a minute, so there's still time for finesse. Suddenly a mass of defenders scrum around the puck. All you can see are flashing fins and sticks, the only way you know your team is that they have the white sticks, the bad guys have black. Shifting the puck back under your navel, you tremble into a powerful dolphin kick, skimming the bottom with the puck tucked away. The goal is right there, but there's a flying circus in front of it. You still have air, still have options. You pound your fins, make your move.
The thing about UWH is that it essentially involves flying. You move like a shark, like a raptor, like a warplane. There is a three dimensionality that doesn't exist in any other sport. If basketball players could soar up and fly around the hoop for a couple of minutes, that would be getting there. There is no sport that involves the constant motion and contortions of the body: as if soccer was being scored as gymnastic free exercise. It's a range of motion and movement that is unique in scoring games.
And it's fabulous conditioning exercise. The game can be played at any level of conditioning, skill, and age. Although tournaments have categories for men and women, coed participation has always been welcomed by clubs and women do not have the disadvantage over men that they might experience in land sports. But at upper levels, it is one of the most grueling conditioning activities every played. You end up sticking with the puck out of sheer competitiveness or orneriness, even when your lungs are starting to rebel and you would have long since headed up while pleasure diving. Your breath-hold is not "static" by any means, you are often pouring on the energy, sprinting and straining, even while feeling the need to breathe. You rush recovery in order to get back to the play. At first you find yourself hanging on the pool edge, gasping after every point, but that changes in time. Your calves harden up under use that no other diving demands. Your heart, lungs and burn rate start to curve upward. You find new ways to twist and turn, learn how to launch an object ten feet underwater, become as comfortable swimming on your back or dolphin style as in the missionary position. When you go back out to the sea, you find yourself an improved form of fauna: faster, stronger, deeper, longer, wilier. This is, in many ways, the ultimate free-diving, and excellent training for any other kind.
It used to be difficult to find a game, and it's still not something you can just go down to the corner and play. But if your town is on the list of locations at the bottom of this page (or on the UWH Tourist Page, below) you should get your buns and lungs down there right away. If not, contact existing clubs about starting one. And it might be coming to you. Ten years ago there were hardly a dozen clubs in the U.S. and Canada. Now they are popping up all over. Which is making North American clubs more competitive in international play, but they still have a long way to go to catch traditionally strong areas like Australia, New Zealand and South Africa. It is even getting possible to buy gear (see lists below).
But, beyond the training and competition aspects, UWH is just a hell of a lot of fun. There is a sort of golden era in any sport before it gets popular and UWH is still at a great stage, the era before ruling bodies start forming to promote and protect the sport and ruin everything. Most people make a lot of their own gear, you don't hear many brand names mentioned. Lots of pick-up games, same guys on different teams next week. No spectators, no ticket sales, no press, no stars: you can't watch UWH from the sidelines: all you see is fins and whitewater. It's still just for the players, still just for the hell of it. This is consistent with the type of activity snorkling is--non-goal, very essentially solitary, scoreless, winless. On the other hand, UWH is a very convivial bunch of people, and competition can be intense, especially at nationals and tournaments.
The lack of a "public" and stars means that players don't have Wheaties box icons to inspire and aspire to. But players are never far from the sea, at least in their hearts, and have role models of their own devising. In my play at the San Diego club, I quickly saw that Kevin was a dolphin type: surging powerfully and joyously towards the crease. Big Bob was an obvious Orca, blasting through on sheer weight and force. John developed his impactive, hammerhead style while playing with the notoriously brutal Chicago club, Mark had the stealth cruise of a Marlin, Shawn was an octopus slithering around the goal and snaking out an arm to glom onto the puck.
Underwater Hockey might sound peculiar, but it's the real thing, and you can get involved easier than you think. Clubs are often associated with dive shops, although the play is obviously totally beyond the scope of anybody wearing bulky SCUBA gear. Any local rec pool program can be hijacked into a weekly UWH game. Below are links to the sport's governing bodies, and to lots of clubs around the world, not to mention personal websites by individuals who are happy to help people get into the play.
Underwater Hockey Page is by the official body of the sport (and an outfit of great interest to wetheads--the Underwater Society. A great personal page by Harrry Hsiung has mounds of info. And for those are bumming around the world with a snorkel (or just want to find a game in their area) here's an international locating site, the Underwater Hockey Tourist page. The San Diego club is at this website.
|