The first thing you notice is how the participants don’t really move like athletes in any other sport. The scramble for the puck happens amid a clutter of bodies right side up, upside down and all combinations in between. They twist and turn and slam their sticks on the floor, a sound one can hear if the act is violent enough.
Few have heard of underwater hockey. Fewer play it. But for Lakewood resident Tyera Eulberg, 23, and her teammates, their love of the unconventional game will take them to Sheffield, England, from Thursday, Aug. 10, to Saturday, Aug. 26, for the world championships.
“It’s taken more seriously in other countries,” Eulberg said. “In Australia there’s actually a pool just for this sport. That’s what we need. That would help with the spectators.”
Eulberg began playing underwater hockey four years ago, when her boyfriend introduced her to the sport. In the games, two teams of six face off against each other in a pool 6 to 10 feet deep. Dipping above and below the water line using snorkels, the players wield short, handheld plastic sticks and try to knock a 13-pound puck through the goal.
The problem is, not only do Eulberg and her teammates face the stigma of playing a sport virtually unknown in their homeland, but they face deep difficulties securing funding, donations and sponsorship.
Maybe it’s because it’s hard to think of a sport less spectator-friendly. One basically must be underwater with the team, a few feet away, to appreciate what’s happening.
“It’s a struggle we’ve had from the very beginning,” Eulberg said. “With no spectators, there’s no sponsorship, and there’s no money.
“I’ve had a couple family members sponsor me, but it’s a very small amount,” she said.
What to do? Eulberg’s U.S.A. Women’s Elite Team — one of only two women’s underwater hockey teams in the country, have considered and tried multiple options. A women-of-underwater-hockey calendar was considered, but they worried about the got-there-first Canadian team would call them copycats.
In lieu of a cheesecake calendar, the women and their male counterparts have put together a DVD to give potential sponsors a visual, an imperative when selling a sport that’s never been broadcast on television. They hope soon to reverse their refusal trend, such as the one they received from Balance Bar.
“They sent us something that said, ‘We appreciate the enthusiasm with which you described your sport, but’ – ha, ha – no,” she said.
Eulberg’s boyfriend, Phil Hickey, took up the sport when his roommates invited him to play. He was hooked from his first game.
He rues the obscurity of the sport in social situations.
“I describe it as a fast-paced, aerobic, underwater sport,” said Hickey, who will also compete in Sheffield. “When I start to give details some people just walk away. They’re not into it.”
As Eulberg, Hickey and their fellow enthusiasts continue in their struggle to bring legitimacy, money and more players to their sport, they’re also staying focused on the formidable task of doing the United States proud overseas.
“About half of us have never been to a world competition before,” she said. “We really want to go out there and do well for our country.”
What’s more, Hickey touted a certain scandal’s absence in his sport – doping.
“I keep hearing rumors that they test for it at worlds,” he laughed. “But I’ve never heard of anything like that happening.”