So last night, while dreaming, I was arguing with someone that "I didn't used to be this bad at hockey", and they didn't believe me. So I pulled up my NHL stats. Between age 35 and 40 I was the Jets 7th Dman, played 42 games, and had 20 points. They still didn't believe, so they pulled up YouTube looking for video clips. The first hit was "Unrau's defensive blunder costs Jets game 6 and the series."
I had a dream where my wife's long lost uncle in the Philippines passed away and left his youth hockey team to his closest Canadian relative, which was her. We moved to his small town to coach the team, who were a ragtag bunch of screw-ups.
I discovered that there was a little-known rule that you could substitute any player on your roster with a number of feral cats equal to the player's weight, so we went and recruited the heaviest kid in town. We ended up winning the championship that season.