How loving hockey has made me a better parent and a happier person
I used to think hockey was for other people: jocks, joiners or people who enjoy flags on their car windows. I never thought our national pastime could include…me.
But leaning against a snowbank this past January, watching as a pile of hockey sticks began to grow at the centre of the outdoor rink, a new thought dawned on my. My son, Casey, then 9, tossed his stick on top. His younger brother, Quinn, then 7, did the same. The mess of skaters out there had been pushing their pucks under the clear blue sky, whacking them against the boards and hitting the net?s posts with loud tings. The multi-sized herd had an unspoken shared plan: The pile was divided in two, teammates nodded to each other and the game was on.
First, a faceoff. A tall, gangly teenager passed to Casey, who continued a push to the net. Quinn, helped by a twentysomething bearded guy, tried to hold them off. A dude in mirrored yellow sunglasses intercepted the puck, zipped back the other way and took a?gentle?shot on a net guarded by the littlest kid on the ice. Goal! This post is part of The Canada Project. You can find out more by clicking the image above.
As I looked on from the rink?s edge, a few happy tears crept out from behind my sunglasses. It had been nearly four years since I?d signed on to a life of hauling my kids to house-league games, but something was different. This sport was making me feel something. Although I ran with hockey fan boys in high school, dabbled in road hockey after university...
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