Mom with Blades

I was never very sporty growing up. No one in my family was. I still loved the outdoors – fishing and camping, riding my bike. I learned how to ride horses while my brother played hockey and baseball. I never remember any of my friends playing sports. In fact, I don’t think I knew any girls who played sports back then – outside of school. Then I grew up and married a sporty guy. When we had kids they turned out to be sporty boys too – especially in hockey.

So in the spirit of if you can’t beat them, join them; I decided to give hockey a try. That summer I signed up for a skills camp and borrowed all the equipment I would need. I didn’t want to make that kind of financial investment in equipment if I didn’t like it, or worse –  if I was awful.

When I finished my camp I signed up for a women’s league with a friend who had the same idea. She was equally as under-skilled as I. The league was a tier system based on level of ability so we could fit in with players of equal skills. To my surprise the league had 6 tiers with over 36 teams. I had no idea that many women played hockey.

The interesting part of starting hockey as an adult is that I understand my skills are limited, so I try to play smart. I learned how all the little things add up – keeping my stick on the ice, keeping two hands on my stick, talking to my teammates and being in position.

I have been playing for a couple of years now and love it. My skills are still limited, but I am trying to get better. I have met some wonderful women of all ages and backgrounds who have come together to join this in great game for many different reasons. We try hard and play competitively without losing the joy of the game.

Now, I watch my boy’s game differently now. I watch how they play their positions and look to see how I can improve. When the kids make a mistake, I can empathize that it looks easier than it is. I know that I’ll never have the skills that my kids have, as they have grown up on skates. But I do think it must be liberating to not have to think about skating or stopping because it is so natural. They can just focus on the game. It must feel like flying.

I am always touched at how positive and constructive my boys are when they cheer me on.

I like that I am a hockey player. I like that people are surprised that maybe I’m a little more rough and tumble than they thought. But really it’s just another way I can connect with my family. Luckily it turned out to be a great idea.

How Can all the Referees Need Glasses?

What is Black and White and needs glasses? Hockey referees.
Or so many seem to think.

In our house, we live hockey. I have two boys in Rep, and both my husband and I play in recreational leagues. We have a rink in the backyard every winter in case we’re not already on the ice enough. Great exercise, team spirit, plus it’s just plain fun.

We discovered that minor hockey is real community volunteer effort. From the board members, to the conveners, managers and coaches – all of these folks give up a ton of time to serve our community and our kids. We’re really thankful. And the parents always make sure their kids get to their games and practices on time. It’s quite a machine.

But I have to say – people are a little rough on the referees. And I don’t think it’s right.

“Watch the #$&@ game!”
“C’mon Stripes! Homer!” More often it’s worse. If there is one thing that people are most vocal about, it’s the referees. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever made it through a game without someone yelling at the refs, whether it was a parent, a coach or a player – and I’ve been to a lot of games! Sometimes I get so uncomfortable that I want to leave the rink.

Just a bad idea
Now, for the game itself, yelling at the ref is not constructive. Referees won’t change the call because the coach or parents yell at them. In fact it can do more harm. Yelling can lead to bench fouls, which lead to penalty kills, which can lead to a goal scored against the team. Even if no bench penalty is called, yelling at the refs distract players from playing the game. It’s just a bad idea!

I understand about passion and competitiveness. And sure, sometimes there may be a bad call, but there is a clear protocol to challenging a referee. Perhaps naively, I believe that referees are trying their best. More importantly, we need to remember that our kids are always watching and learning.

There’s no yelling in T-Ball!
When my son Matt turned twelve last summer, he became a baseball umpire. He has been playing baseball since he was little. He knows and loves the game. He went to umpire clinics, studied his Little League manual and was continuously evaluated.

Conveners place rookies with more experienced umps officiating the younger age players’ games. I’m quite certain that he never tried to throw a game by making poor calls. He got his share of parents yelling – especially in T-Ball.

So where have our manners gone?
How can we teach our kids to take responsibility for themselves when we spend so much time blaming referees? It shouldn’t be ok yell at anyone that way – not your accountant, or your mechanic or your pizza delivery guy. So why is it ok on the ice?

Wouldn’t it be more constructive to show the kids how to challenge respectfully? We could teach them how to take responsibility for what they do have control over – their actions and their attitude. These are all things that they will draw upon throughout life.

We are all doing so much to foster this beautiful Canadian game, but I believe we are falling short on some really important lessons.

And just to note… Matt doesn’t want to ump again this summer. “Too much yelling.”

Spreading the Canadian love

I recently travelled to beautiful Port Huron, Michigan for a hockey tournament with my family. Here, we represented Ancaster along with a couple of other Canadian teams in an international tournament. I always feel it’s important for my family to be good ambassadors when we are out of the country.

 Finally … a glass of wine!
After a long drive and a chilly few hours at the arena, we finally settled the kids into bed at curfew. This gave us parents a chance to relax the in the hallway of our Best Western and enjoy a glass of wine before we did it all again tomorrow.

The unexpected guest
A man came up the stairs by himself looking to go back to his room for the night but had to clamber over our chairs to get through. As we tried to make him feel less uncomfortable we chatted him up a little and found that it was his birthday. We insisted that he join us for a birthday toast and poured him a drink.

Stepping out of Duck Dynasty
Hank was a Vietnam veteran. He sported glasses, a long shaggy beard and a camouflage U.S. Air Force cap and looked like he had just stepped out of Duck Dynasty. He had just turned 65 and talked about retirement and social security woes. When discovering we were Canadian he livened up and told us that he always crossed the border at Sarnia to celebrate Remembrance Day with his fellow Canadian soldiers and how he had the utmost respect for our country.

Zzzzz….
I laughed and talked for a while until I had to get to sleep. It would be another long day tomorrow. I said my goodnights and wished Hank a happy birthday again. When I asked in the morning, I learned that Hank had stayed into the early morning until the last few retired to bed. I smiled and thought that when he was originally heading back to his room, he had no idea that some warm Canadian strangers would bring him into their fold on a snowy Thursday night in Michigan, and help make his birthday a festive one – albeit unexpected.