Today is "Hockey Day In Canada"!!
So, not too long ago I was invited to join NHL Bloggers, which I will admit is a little bit mystifying, seeing as how I 've only ever blogged about hockey one or two times before, in this space.
Plus, my knowledge base of modern hockey is essentially mourning the demise of the Winnipeg Jets... Seriously!! I don't even know where Phil Esposito is playing these days!!
I let them know that, and they still extended their invitation, so assuming I can set this up, today I'll join their network.
In honour of this association, I'll post one of the only hockey columns I've ever written, in my weekly humour column. I think it's a good fit for Hockey Day In Canada.
Then (and I apologize in advance to NHL Bloggers), it will be back to the same nonsensical drivel that has been the hallmark of this space for the past year!
Here's the column, from last year:
Street Hockey Memories
Many, many years ago, my buddies and I found infinite hours of pleasure, out in the coldest winters of Winnipeg. We played street hockey…
I’m not sure if it was just that we were that young and eager, but there really didn’t seem to be a thermometer reading cold enough to prevent the gang of us from hitting the back lane on any given day after school. We’d play until it was too dark to see the frozen tennis ball we used as a puck, or one of our parents hollered, insisting that it was time to come into the house and do our homework.
For some reason, I never did get to play proper organized hockey, with ice skates and real hockey equipment. My skating skills still to this day are entirely un-Canadian. Queen Elizabeth probably skates better than I do. But in heavy winter boots, we could be surprisingly nimble when it came to deking out a defender, and scoring that game-winning goal.
Back in those early 70’s days, there were no big-box sporting goods stores offering a wide selection of Wayne Gretzky-approved street hockey apparel. You either had to buy official hockey equipment, or you had to improvise. I was Ken Dryden, leaning on my broken goal stick, tending net in an oversized green parka – and wearing a back-catcher’s mask, with a regular baseball mitt over my heavy woolen glove.
One buddy was Bobby Orr, in a pair of ski pants, a heavy suede winter jacket, and thick horn-rimmed glasses. The neighbor kid from two doors down at least had a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey, stretched over his heavy coat. For us Canadiens fans, that was just a blue target…
Why we used tennis balls back then was anybody’s guess. You could buy fake pucks, made from much softer rubber than the real ones. Maybe it was easier to stickhandle over the snowy ruts in the back lane that filled in for Madison Square Garden, who knows? But man, could you get one of those things whistling with a proper windup!! It’s a wonder any of us grew up to have families after so many tennis balls found a way to say hello, even through ski pants, briefs, and a pair of long underwear. One proper piece of equipment we ALL eventually owned was a protective cup…
We also learned hasty surgical procedures, as safety features like face visors or helmets were entirely ignored, aside from whoever was a goalie. Welts were a symbol of young adulthood. Sprains were bragging rights for days. And the same freckled little kid that cried whenever somebody stole his lunch at school got a huge kick out of picking a couple of his teeth out of the snow. One thing about ice, it really does slow down blood flow!
Like the professional hockey players of today, even as kids back then we had aspirations to win the Stanley Cup. Although in our case, the Cup looked an awful lot like one of my Dad’s mag wheel rims.
And again like those very same professional hockey players, we even got locked out one year.
The latch to my backyard gate froze shut…
*****************************************************************************
Enjoy Hockey Day In Canada!!Many, many years ago, my buddies and I found infinite hours of pleasure, out in the coldest winters of Winnipeg. We played street hockey…
I’m not sure if it was just that we were that young and eager, but there really didn’t seem to be a thermometer reading cold enough to prevent the gang of us from hitting the back lane on any given day after school. We’d play until it was too dark to see the frozen tennis ball we used as a puck, or one of our parents hollered, insisting that it was time to come into the house and do our homework.
For some reason, I never did get to play proper organized hockey, with ice skates and real hockey equipment. My skating skills still to this day are entirely un-Canadian. Queen Elizabeth probably skates better than I do. But in heavy winter boots, we could be surprisingly nimble when it came to deking out a defender, and scoring that game-winning goal.
Back in those early 70’s days, there were no big-box sporting goods stores offering a wide selection of Wayne Gretzky-approved street hockey apparel. You either had to buy official hockey equipment, or you had to improvise. I was Ken Dryden, leaning on my broken goal stick, tending net in an oversized green parka – and wearing a back-catcher’s mask, with a regular baseball mitt over my heavy woolen glove.
One buddy was Bobby Orr, in a pair of ski pants, a heavy suede winter jacket, and thick horn-rimmed glasses. The neighbor kid from two doors down at least had a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey, stretched over his heavy coat. For us Canadiens fans, that was just a blue target…
Why we used tennis balls back then was anybody’s guess. You could buy fake pucks, made from much softer rubber than the real ones. Maybe it was easier to stickhandle over the snowy ruts in the back lane that filled in for Madison Square Garden, who knows? But man, could you get one of those things whistling with a proper windup!! It’s a wonder any of us grew up to have families after so many tennis balls found a way to say hello, even through ski pants, briefs, and a pair of long underwear. One proper piece of equipment we ALL eventually owned was a protective cup…
We also learned hasty surgical procedures, as safety features like face visors or helmets were entirely ignored, aside from whoever was a goalie. Welts were a symbol of young adulthood. Sprains were bragging rights for days. And the same freckled little kid that cried whenever somebody stole his lunch at school got a huge kick out of picking a couple of his teeth out of the snow. One thing about ice, it really does slow down blood flow!
Like the professional hockey players of today, even as kids back then we had aspirations to win the Stanley Cup. Although in our case, the Cup looked an awful lot like one of my Dad’s mag wheel rims.
And again like those very same professional hockey players, we even got locked out one year.
The latch to my backyard gate froze shut…
*****************************************************************************
Chow for now!!
No comments:
Post a Comment