Melissa Hoffmans Blog
I thought Melissa Hoffmans Blog was a pretty intrsting read so for those that havent seen it im gonna post them here
Confessions of a Rugby League Wife
14/12/2011
Hi All
My name is Mel Hoffman, Ryan Hoffman’s wife and number one fan (okay, maybe equal number one along with the rest of the Hoffman family).
Thank you to everyone that followed our travels around the US of A via my blog, Hoffy and Mel: Coming to America. We had an amazing time and loved sharing our shenanigans with you all. For those of you that missed it, you can still check it out at: Melbourne Storm.
Life with the Melbourne Storm is something that I’ve shared with Ryan since 2003, excepting one (very chilly) year spent in the UK Super League at Wigan Warriors. Since then I have shared with him countless highs, a few (thankfully sparing) lows and made an army of friends and memories in the process, some of which I’m delighted to now be sharing via melbournestorm.com.au on a regular basis.
If you are looking for player statistics, match reviews or an in-depth technical match analysis – you are absolutely in the wrong place and frankly, I am ill equipped. This is a stat-free zone. Confessions of a Rugby League Wife is simply that, a little look at what it’s like to be part of this big, sometimes crazy, ever-purple family.
So the big question is this: is my life with Ryan really interesting and exciting enough to provide fodder for an ongoing and engaging blog? I humbly suggest that it is not. But never fear, I will be using all of my inside access (and covert access to Ryan’s iPhone contacts) to dig a little deeper into the lives of the everyone here at the club, through their families, colleagues, and of course my partners-in-crime: the other Melbourne Storm wives and girlfriends.
I hope you enjoy my observations, musings and (let’s be honest) general ramblings. If you have any questions, comments or suggestions, I have recently joined the land of Twitter, you can follow me @Hoffman_Melissa
So here’s to an exciting and successful 2012 for the mighty Melbourne Storm – looking forward to sharing it with you all!
Confessions of a Rugby League Wife
14/12/2011
Hi All
My name is Mel Hoffman, Ryan Hoffman’s wife and number one fan (okay, maybe equal number one along with the rest of the Hoffman family).
Thank you to everyone that followed our travels around the US of A via my blog, Hoffy and Mel: Coming to America. We had an amazing time and loved sharing our shenanigans with you all. For those of you that missed it, you can still check it out at: Melbourne Storm.
Life with the Melbourne Storm is something that I’ve shared with Ryan since 2003, excepting one (very chilly) year spent in the UK Super League at Wigan Warriors. Since then I have shared with him countless highs, a few (thankfully sparing) lows and made an army of friends and memories in the process, some of which I’m delighted to now be sharing via melbournestorm.com.au on a regular basis.
If you are looking for player statistics, match reviews or an in-depth technical match analysis – you are absolutely in the wrong place and frankly, I am ill equipped. This is a stat-free zone. Confessions of a Rugby League Wife is simply that, a little look at what it’s like to be part of this big, sometimes crazy, ever-purple family.
So the big question is this: is my life with Ryan really interesting and exciting enough to provide fodder for an ongoing and engaging blog? I humbly suggest that it is not. But never fear, I will be using all of my inside access (and covert access to Ryan’s iPhone contacts) to dig a little deeper into the lives of the everyone here at the club, through their families, colleagues, and of course my partners-in-crime: the other Melbourne Storm wives and girlfriends.
I hope you enjoy my observations, musings and (let’s be honest) general ramblings. If you have any questions, comments or suggestions, I have recently joined the land of Twitter, you can follow me @Hoffman_Melissa
So here’s to an exciting and successful 2012 for the mighty Melbourne Storm – looking forward to sharing it with you all!
Tis the (pre) season
23/12/2011
Although it was never explicitly stated in our wedding vows, when I married Ryan, I agreed to accept him for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health and in season and in pre-season. It is quite possibly the latter that presents the most significant matrimonial challenge.
Pre-season is perhaps the most physically demanding period of the year. Although a game of course requires unparalleled physical commitment and mental preparation, it is over in 80 minutes. Pre-season runs all day, nearly every day, for three and a half months. And it turns my usually jovial husband into a dozing, carbohydrate-craving, Gatorade-swilling, occasionally-incoherent-with-fatigue mass of (ever-expanding) muscles.
Don’t mistake me: I’m not suggesting that he has a split personality – one for pre-season and one for the remainder of the year. I’m suggesting that pre-season leaves him with no energy left to have one at all.
Not to be confused with off-season, preseason is that period between November and March that is dedicated to (a) preparing for the season ahead, and (b) for undoing any damage done in the aforementioned off-season. From what I understand, it basically comprises many weights sessions, many fitness sessions, and if the strength and conditioning staff are feeling generous, they’ll substitute the usual two laps of the Tan with several runs up a steep hill in forty degree heat, just to break the monotony. How thoughtful.
To give the uninitiated some sense of perspective, I cite the following: when queried on the longevity of his career Ryan will generally remark that it’s not how many seasons you believe you have left in you, it’s how many pre-seasons.
The first couple of weeks are the hardest. This is the period where the body adjusts from a reasonable, human level of intermittent physical activity to an onslaught of epic exertion on a daily basis. It is during these weeks that the sound-scape of our home is punctuated by Ryan groaning, grunting and sighing. Bend over to put training clothes in the washing machine, groan. Sit down on the couch, grunt. Lift up the remote, groan. Pass the salt and pepper, grunt. Is it really time to blink again? Sigh.
Still, for all the heartache (and back ache, and leg ache, and arm ache), there are no complaints. I know that for Ryan, and I can only guess the other boys, the completion of a pre-season is the source of an immeasurable amount of pride. It holds them in good stead for the season ahead and at the end of the day, is it inevitable.
For me, I do what I can to help – stock up the pantry with carbs, keep evening conversation to topics requiring only minimum mental engagement, and along with all the other girls, look forward to that glorious day in late-Feb when our partners morph back into the fun-loving, easy-going, stay-up-later than 8pm, men we know and love
23/12/2011
Although it was never explicitly stated in our wedding vows, when I married Ryan, I agreed to accept him for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health and in season and in pre-season. It is quite possibly the latter that presents the most significant matrimonial challenge.
Pre-season is perhaps the most physically demanding period of the year. Although a game of course requires unparalleled physical commitment and mental preparation, it is over in 80 minutes. Pre-season runs all day, nearly every day, for three and a half months. And it turns my usually jovial husband into a dozing, carbohydrate-craving, Gatorade-swilling, occasionally-incoherent-with-fatigue mass of (ever-expanding) muscles.
Don’t mistake me: I’m not suggesting that he has a split personality – one for pre-season and one for the remainder of the year. I’m suggesting that pre-season leaves him with no energy left to have one at all.
Not to be confused with off-season, preseason is that period between November and March that is dedicated to (a) preparing for the season ahead, and (b) for undoing any damage done in the aforementioned off-season. From what I understand, it basically comprises many weights sessions, many fitness sessions, and if the strength and conditioning staff are feeling generous, they’ll substitute the usual two laps of the Tan with several runs up a steep hill in forty degree heat, just to break the monotony. How thoughtful.
To give the uninitiated some sense of perspective, I cite the following: when queried on the longevity of his career Ryan will generally remark that it’s not how many seasons you believe you have left in you, it’s how many pre-seasons.
The first couple of weeks are the hardest. This is the period where the body adjusts from a reasonable, human level of intermittent physical activity to an onslaught of epic exertion on a daily basis. It is during these weeks that the sound-scape of our home is punctuated by Ryan groaning, grunting and sighing. Bend over to put training clothes in the washing machine, groan. Sit down on the couch, grunt. Lift up the remote, groan. Pass the salt and pepper, grunt. Is it really time to blink again? Sigh.
Still, for all the heartache (and back ache, and leg ache, and arm ache), there are no complaints. I know that for Ryan, and I can only guess the other boys, the completion of a pre-season is the source of an immeasurable amount of pride. It holds them in good stead for the season ahead and at the end of the day, is it inevitable.
For me, I do what I can to help – stock up the pantry with carbs, keep evening conversation to topics requiring only minimum mental engagement, and along with all the other girls, look forward to that glorious day in late-Feb when our partners morph back into the fun-loving, easy-going, stay-up-later than 8pm, men we know and love
Around the world in 42 days (that is, a Melbourne Storm off-season)
Mel Hoffman
6/01/2012
To be honest, I was a little bit chuffed with the amount of travel Hoff and I fit into the 2011 off-season. We had a lovely time gallivanting across the US – and make no mistake, we did gallivant – and we enjoyed the other travel we did throughout 2011 as well.
The best thing about travelling with Hoff, apart from the witty conversation and stellar company (of course) is that he carries my bags. Contrary to popular opinion, chivalry is not dead, it’s just hiding out in the Hoffman household.
The worst thing about travelling with Hoff is the frequency with which the man needs to eat. Highly impractical. Whereas I can load up at the breakfast buffet then snack on whatever local delights I happen to come across until dinner, Hoff (being rather large) requires a full, sit-down meal at semi-regular intervals. So inconvenient.
Nevertheless we had a wonderful time, and as noted, were frankly quite pleased with ourselves for straying somewhat off the traveller-beaten track. Then we arrived back to Melbourne Storm. It seems that by club standards, our American adventures rate as a little tame, compared to the travels of some of our purple kin.
Cooper Cronk and his lovely partner Eli headed for South America, more specifically Chile, Peru, Brazil and Argentina. After completing the famous (and infamously arduous) Inca Trail, Cooper may well be the first footballer in history to come back from off-season fitter than he was when he left. Never fear though, it wasn’t all 9 hour up-hill walking days and altitude sickness, the pair also passed their days visiting giant stone deities, checking out waterfalls and picking up a boatload of Spanish along the way (the language, not tapas…necessarily).
When pressed on the motivation for choosing South America, Eli cited long-held fascination with all things Incan, and specifically, Machu Picchu. Apparently this fascination either stems from a spiritual affinity she has long felt with South America, or the fact that her Mum had a picture of Machu Picchu on her screensaver on her computer when Eli was growing up. Either/or. It hardly matters, screensaver memories aside, the pair now have ticked a pretty impressive box on their respective bucket lists.
And so to the Slaters. Hoff and I were avidly following the Four Nations whilst we were away and as sympathetic as I was for Billy and his horrific shoulder injury, my first thought was actually of Nicole - fresh off the plane to the UK, sans children for the first time in four years, battling the Tube (for 2.5 hours) planning on seeing her beloved play on the International stage. Instead she arrives to find him in pieces, requiring surgery and frankly, ready to jump back on the plane (presumably the same one Nicole just got off) and go home. I am pleased to report, however, that they overcame this disappointing turn of events by travelling around Europe for the first time together – taking in the sights of London, Paris, Barcelona…and Leeds. There’s a prize if you can spot the odd-one-out there.
So Cooper, Eli, Billy, Nicole, Hoff and I might be forgiven for some collective feelings of traveller pride. Between us we covered Europe, South America and North America – how do you top that?
Enter Ryan Hinchcliffe and his fiancé, Brooke. Over the course of the 2011 season, Brooke (who comes from a long line of intrepid travellers) managed to convince Hinchy to pack up and head west for three weeks of camping in Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda. So whilst the rest of us were tucking ourselves into hotel room beds on most nights of our travels, Brooke and Hinchy were rattling around in the back of what can only be described as a truck/bus hybrid (evidently driven by a local who had infinite issues spotting speed bumps before it was too late to slow down) and pitching their own tent on the banks of sometimes-hippo-infested waters.
And whilst Hinchy may have required more than a little coaxing on Brooke’s behalf to get there, in the end it seems that getting up close and personal with gorillas in Rwanda (for example), made the trip absolutely worthwhile. And on the subject of gorillas, apparently Hinchy’s most annoying holiday habit is to imitate the gorilla noises that the (highly-gorilla-experienced) local guides made to soothe the beasts, despite being specifically (and repeatedly) warned against such copycat behaviour.
(Sidenote: Hinchy now claims to be fluent in Swahili. I’m sceptical, but as I don’t know anyone who is fluent in Swahili and my own knowledge is limited to two words from a certain 1994 Disney animation, I am in no position to judge).
So there you have it. Whereas travel during the year tends to be limited to any destination lucky enough to host an opposing NRL team, the off-season presents a literal world of opportunity. And I’m pleased to report that all here at the Melbourne Storm have done our best to take full advantage.
Mel Hoffman
6/01/2012
To be honest, I was a little bit chuffed with the amount of travel Hoff and I fit into the 2011 off-season. We had a lovely time gallivanting across the US – and make no mistake, we did gallivant – and we enjoyed the other travel we did throughout 2011 as well.
The best thing about travelling with Hoff, apart from the witty conversation and stellar company (of course) is that he carries my bags. Contrary to popular opinion, chivalry is not dead, it’s just hiding out in the Hoffman household.
The worst thing about travelling with Hoff is the frequency with which the man needs to eat. Highly impractical. Whereas I can load up at the breakfast buffet then snack on whatever local delights I happen to come across until dinner, Hoff (being rather large) requires a full, sit-down meal at semi-regular intervals. So inconvenient.
Nevertheless we had a wonderful time, and as noted, were frankly quite pleased with ourselves for straying somewhat off the traveller-beaten track. Then we arrived back to Melbourne Storm. It seems that by club standards, our American adventures rate as a little tame, compared to the travels of some of our purple kin.
Cooper Cronk and his lovely partner Eli headed for South America, more specifically Chile, Peru, Brazil and Argentina. After completing the famous (and infamously arduous) Inca Trail, Cooper may well be the first footballer in history to come back from off-season fitter than he was when he left. Never fear though, it wasn’t all 9 hour up-hill walking days and altitude sickness, the pair also passed their days visiting giant stone deities, checking out waterfalls and picking up a boatload of Spanish along the way (the language, not tapas…necessarily).
When pressed on the motivation for choosing South America, Eli cited long-held fascination with all things Incan, and specifically, Machu Picchu. Apparently this fascination either stems from a spiritual affinity she has long felt with South America, or the fact that her Mum had a picture of Machu Picchu on her screensaver on her computer when Eli was growing up. Either/or. It hardly matters, screensaver memories aside, the pair now have ticked a pretty impressive box on their respective bucket lists.
And so to the Slaters. Hoff and I were avidly following the Four Nations whilst we were away and as sympathetic as I was for Billy and his horrific shoulder injury, my first thought was actually of Nicole - fresh off the plane to the UK, sans children for the first time in four years, battling the Tube (for 2.5 hours) planning on seeing her beloved play on the International stage. Instead she arrives to find him in pieces, requiring surgery and frankly, ready to jump back on the plane (presumably the same one Nicole just got off) and go home. I am pleased to report, however, that they overcame this disappointing turn of events by travelling around Europe for the first time together – taking in the sights of London, Paris, Barcelona…and Leeds. There’s a prize if you can spot the odd-one-out there.
So Cooper, Eli, Billy, Nicole, Hoff and I might be forgiven for some collective feelings of traveller pride. Between us we covered Europe, South America and North America – how do you top that?
Enter Ryan Hinchcliffe and his fiancé, Brooke. Over the course of the 2011 season, Brooke (who comes from a long line of intrepid travellers) managed to convince Hinchy to pack up and head west for three weeks of camping in Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda. So whilst the rest of us were tucking ourselves into hotel room beds on most nights of our travels, Brooke and Hinchy were rattling around in the back of what can only be described as a truck/bus hybrid (evidently driven by a local who had infinite issues spotting speed bumps before it was too late to slow down) and pitching their own tent on the banks of sometimes-hippo-infested waters.
And whilst Hinchy may have required more than a little coaxing on Brooke’s behalf to get there, in the end it seems that getting up close and personal with gorillas in Rwanda (for example), made the trip absolutely worthwhile. And on the subject of gorillas, apparently Hinchy’s most annoying holiday habit is to imitate the gorilla noises that the (highly-gorilla-experienced) local guides made to soothe the beasts, despite being specifically (and repeatedly) warned against such copycat behaviour.
(Sidenote: Hinchy now claims to be fluent in Swahili. I’m sceptical, but as I don’t know anyone who is fluent in Swahili and my own knowledge is limited to two words from a certain 1994 Disney animation, I am in no position to judge).
So there you have it. Whereas travel during the year tends to be limited to any destination lucky enough to host an opposing NRL team, the off-season presents a literal world of opportunity. And I’m pleased to report that all here at the Melbourne Storm have done our best to take full advantage.
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sliat_1981
- Hail Storm
- Posts: 320
- Joined: Wed May 09, 2007 6:34 pm
Anyone know if she will be doing it again now shes back?
