I've got this really weird dream. I'm playing in some big hockey tournament (Stanley Cup, World Cup, Olympics... something like that) and I'm the left wing. I spend most of my time banging in front of the goal, and then that golden moment comes.

The puck drops to my feet. The goal is open. All I've got to do is flick the puck five feet. I take a swing. I miss. I take another. Whiff again. Finally, though, I get stick to rubber and I score the game-winning goal.

You thought this was going to be some pathetic dream like the one Britney Spears has about being able to actually sing. Hey, I won't allow crises of personal confidence, even in my sleep.

The reason I bring all this up is that the past month I've been playing floor hockey. Basically, it's teams of four people equipped with sticks running up and down a basketball court. No skates, just tennis shoes. Lots of whiffing. And even the most marginally-skilled players make me look like a fool.

See I get the ball (it's got a lot of holes in it, not unlike a generic wiffle ball) at my stick and I... whiff.

The first time I did this, I missed with such a vengeance that I moved the ball a few feet. A "phantom swing," you might say. But since then, my misses have become much more pedestrian. I see an open net, I draw my stick back and I miss by a good foot. The opposing players have taken to waiting on my backswing, watching me miss and then swiping the ball from right in front of my feet.

I'd get disheartened, but I've watched some hockey on TV (just the Stanley Cup playoffs, thank you, and then only if the Penguins or Red Wings are involved) and I know that even guys who make millions of bucks a year miss the puck every now and then.

They do a bit better than the Mendoza line, but hell, I've only been playing for three weeks. I've got time to improve. The real problem is the running.

Basically, the sport involves wind sprints up and down the gym court until you pass out. The first night, I lasted about 30 seconds. Good thing there are subs.

Last night, there were no subs for a good portion of the first hour. After about five minutes, everyone on the floor was about to die. Usually the goals are scored fairly close to the goal. I hit a shot from about 20 feet out. Me. Twenty feet. And I still haven't quite figured out how to get any muscle into my shots. The ball just about gave out before it reached the net, but it went in.

When the first subs finally arrived, everyone wanted out at once. Being a gentleman and all, I elbowed my way to the bench, where I sat for a whole 15 seconds before a teammate leapt over the boards (actually, an aluminum bench turned on its side) and promptly expired. I had to get back out on the floor.

What is usually an intense workout turned into a grueling death match. We played two hours straight with few subs. Sticks went high and hard, and there was a lot more body checking than usual. The sportsmanlike atmosphere I had experienced my first two weeks went right out the window. There were no fights, but I got run straight into the wall twice and I've got a real nice bruise which covers the index finger and a good chunk of my left hand. Also, I lost a little blood.

Thing is, that's why I joined the games in the first place. The agony. Ecstasy? I really don't enjoy scoring goals. Most of the time the person who scores the goal just redirects a nice pass. Oh, that 20-footer was nice. But I prefer the banging and the absolute loss of breath.

Reminds me of how I played baseball. I got exactly one hit in two years of little league, and that puppy barely trickled into center field. But I was crazy enough to take shots off all parts of my body (in the name of defense), and in fact, I liked the bruises much better than standing in the batters box.

This isn't the same thing, of course. The game is fluid, there are few real rules (the ones I know are: no goalies, no standing in the crease, no high sticking and don't pick on the new people too much) and you run all the damned time.

Of course, you get to swing (and miss) at a ball. Some things don't change.

Jon Worley has scored a goal in every floor hockey game he's played. Doesn't mean much, though, as he's well behind on the plus/minus.