Hockey

There are very few things I love more than Hockey. My body can’t play it the way I want to anymore, but I’ll never forget the thrill of playing the game.

I can’t tell you exactly when my love for hockey began, but I do remember watching the Islanders beat the Canucks in the Stanley cup final in 82, and the Oilers in 83, and then the Oilers exact their revenge in 84. Surprisingly I was an Islander fan in 83, and have been an Oiler fan since 84.

My dad was a speed skating coach, and my older brother and 2 sisters were very competitive racers. I grew up on skates. I do not think I ever speed skated. My love was always hockey. We didn’t have the time so I never was able to play on a community team. But boy did I ever play. We had a backyard rink that myself and my neighbour played on nightly. My older brother would take me with him to the outdoor rinks and I’d play with the “big” boys.

In the summers I’d play road hockey as often as I could. Often I was alone, imagining teammates and games. It was always game 7, I always scored the winning goal.

After a move to Stettler Ab, I’d find slews and ponds to play on. After another move to Linden Ab, together with a friend we built an outdoor rink. Every Saturday we’d play hockey.

We were immersed in a Mennonite community. In fact my family had become Mennonite for a while. It’s a religious group, with strict values and one of those was their children couldn’t play competitive sports. In a way, it was a perfect fit for me.

Once again the same older brother, Austin, took me to the big boy games. I’d play with my age group and his. He was a beautiful skater, always one of the best if not the best player.

Mennonite hockey was the purest hockey I have ever played. No pads, no gear, no rules. I have scars all over my legs, my elbows, my face. We would play from the AM till the sun went down. I loved it.

If anyone ever has an interest, I would take you to Linden on a Sat AM. They wear pads now, but it’s still the same. Sticks in the middle, teams are formed, lines are made, puck is dropped and then the battle begins.

I left the Mennonite community behind me, chasing work. I married. For the first time in my life I joined a Team. My younger brother Nathan invited me on to a team called the “Flatliners”

For the first time I had to stay onside, refrain from hacking people. I couldn’t trip, slash, or hit. It wasn’t as much fun but it was great to play on a line with my brother. I think he won the scoring title for our league that year.

The next phase of my hockey adventure came with the birth of my son. He loved the game, and was more skilled than I ever was. I coached him for years. I made a lot of terrible mistakes coaching him. Fathers shouldn’t coach sons, but we still had amazing memories.

I played on teams at the same time. I’d frame all day, coach in the evening, and then go play a game at night. I’d try to watch every Oiler game I could in between. Hockey was my life. On the weekends I didn’t coach, I’d take coaching clinics and even joined the Hockey Ab coach mentoring program. I took all their specialty skill clinics.

For a few years we formed a team called the Hammerheads/Hosers. This was a team I founded with my brothers. It was so much fun. We took a LOT of penalties. We were basically a bunch of Vikings on skates. We won some, we lost some, but we created some amazing memories. Jason, Chris, Nathan, Myself. Friends of mine, Kevin, Guy, Ryan, Grant, Mark, many many more. We even had a couple guys who went on to play in the NHL suit up for us. We became really good at playing 3vs5 in those years, and I always enjoyed the company in the penalty box.

I’m 44. I am too old and too slow now. I can’t play the way I want to play anymore. I will go out and shinny once or twice a year but it’s not the same. I’ll usually trip someone just to relive the “old” days.

No one likes to play with a beer leaguer who plays the way that I do, They say things like…

“Hey man, we all have to work tomorrow!”

My first thought is always,

“well don’t play hockey then. Go find a sport that fits your gentlemanly disposition.”

My son, who has excellent grades and wants to go to university has chosen to focus on school. He was an amazing player for 11 years. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I loved to watch him play those last few years.

So from a small backyard rink in Red Deer, to the ponds in Stettler, Mennonite hockey on the prairies, scoring goals and taking penalties with my brothers, teaching tyke kids how to skate, laughing in locker rooms with friends, to watching my son play his final minor hockey game, my hockey story ends.

Go Oilers.

If you read this far, thank you.

Tris