I'm Canadian, but I despise ice hockey. While I mostly hold my thrifty parents responsible for this sad, but true fact — they refused to register me in "such an expensive sport" — I guess some of the blame has to fall on my weak-ass ankles, too. Yeah, I can't skate worth a shit. I can't turn in skates; I can't stop in skates; hell, I can barely lace up skates. My ankles — and to some extent my soft and supple hands — are absolutely pathetic.
HOWEVA, that doesn't mean I can't handle my own with the ol' stick and puck. (Er, tennis ball.) Yeah, I remember being so good at ball hockey as a kid, that I once scored twelve straight breakaway goals before a car came along and ruined my rhythm. Now, sure, the goalie may have been my next-door neighbor's little sister, and yeah, OK, we never let her use a glove or blocker, but still... I was awesome in boots.
Crazy Ball Hockey Moves [YouTube]