Monthly Archives: October 2010

Fourth and final game update

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The text telling the tale of the 4:45 quarter final game was a little late as me and the Boy were making our way to the arena for his game at 6:05. Another game, another one goal decision in the wrong direction as the Devil’s team fell 2-1. The upside, as hockey mom sees it, is that they get to stay up a little later in the hotel tonight and they can sleep in tomorrow morning.  With no hockey tomorrow there is a pretty good chance a few parents will let their hair down and the girls will no doubt spend an inordinate amount of time in the pool.  Just like the boys, this weekend is as much about them having fun and bonding together as teammates as it is about the competition. Of course, it’s fun to win too.

As for the Boy, he and his squad eeked out a tie against a perennial thorn in their side. They gave up a go ahead goal with just under four minutes left in the game, but wree then able to score a tying goal with less than two minutes left. At this level and in this league over the past four years lopsided scores for either side have been few and far between. There are a couple of weaker sisters in the division, but for the most part there is relative parity among the top six or seven teams. It makes for pretty exciting hockey, though it can grind on the nerves after a while.

Now the Boy’s gone to a buddy’s after his game because there is no game tomorrow. The girls are away at the tourney. So it’s me and the poochie left to our own devices.  Guess we’ll watch the hockey game and/or baseball game together before we hit the hay.

#imahockeydad

Fourth and final game update

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The text telling the tale of the 4:45 quarter final game was a little late as me and the Boy were making our way to the arena for his game at 6:05. Another game, another one goal decision in the wrong direction as the Devil’s team fell 2-1. The upside, as hockey mom sees it, is that they get to stay up a little later in the hotel tonight and they can sleep in tomorrow morning.  With no hockey tomorrow there is a pretty good chance a few parents will let their hair down and the girls will no doubt spend an inordinate amount of time in the pool.  Just like the boys, this weekend is as much about them having fun and bonding together as teammates as it is about the competition. Of course, it’s fun to win too.

As for the Boy, he and his squad eeked out a tie against a perennial thorn in their side. They gave up a go ahead goal with just under four minutes left in the game, but wree then able to score a tying goal with less than two minutes left. At this level and in this league over the past four years lopsided scores for either side have been few and far between. There are a couple of weaker sisters in the division, but for the most part there is relative parity among the top six or seven teams. It makes for pretty exciting hockey, though it can grind on the nerves after a while.

Now the Boy’s gone to a buddy’s after his game because there is no game tomorrow. The girls are away at the tourney. So it’s me and the poochie left to our own devices.  Guess we’ll watch the hockey game and/or baseball game together before we hit the hay.

#imahockeydad

Game three update from Windsor

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I know y’all are waiting with bated breath like I have been for the past hour and twenty minutes.  The latest text reads 2-1 Bad guys but they played very well and the goal was hers (the Devil’s that is).  On to the quarter finals at 4:45 with a record of 1-2; with both losses by 1 goal.  Anything can happen in girls hockey. I will have the fingers, toes and several other body parts crossed for a win. I’ll send along all the words of encouragement I can then wait semi-patiently to hear the outcome. Bahhhhhhhhh!

#imahockeydad

I hate missing games

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Hockey mom and the Devil left on a four+ hour trip to Windsor for a tournament this weekend.  I helped load the van with all of the suitcases, bags, coolers, equipment and various other paraphernalia female hockey players (and their mom’s) need to travel.  Unsurprisingly, it was a fair bit more than the Boy and I needed last weekend.  The ladies had companions for the ride, another player and her mother, so the van was loaded to the hilt with female accessories times two.  Hockey mom, seemingly travelling to a foreign land, was equipped with a stack of Google maps to get her from our driveway to the hotel, from the hotel to the rinks, from the rinks to the hotel and from the hotel to dinner and back again (I will no doubt pay for this wee sentence). And off they went on their weekend of fun and competition. 

The Boy and I were left behind because he had a practice two nights ago and has a game tonight here in town.  So far that’s meant Mucho Burrito and Big Chris BBQfor dinner the past two nights.  We are roving bachelors with unlimited options.  Last night I sat on the couch to watch the Rangers knock the Yankees out of the major league baseball playoffs (Yippee!), while the Boy played Call of Duty on Xbox Live with his hockey buddies.  Yup, we really shook it up.  We painted the town red.

Part of the problem with having two rep hockey players is they are most often going in two different directions. As such, we miss a bunch of games, which can be frustrating.  Last year, the hockey mom had an idea that someone should record and broadcast all games online (like on YouTube or something) so parents and friends who weren’t able to attend for whatever reason, could still see their kids play.  Not sure that anyone would actually pay for that service, but it’s one that I wish was available this weekend.  If I had a little capital and thought the idea might work this would be perfect job for me.  I’ve always said I just need to find a way to get someone to pay me to watch my kids play hockey.  Hell, I’d even watch other kids play hockey.

The Devil’s first game was yesterday at 10:30am so we texted briefly pre-game.  I sent along typical words of encouragement — “Skate hard!” “Have fun!” “Score me a goal!” “Give 110% out there!” “Listen to your coach!” ”Keep your head up!” “Win the battles!” If it were the Boy, I’d add in “Crush somebody!” in a purely positive sense.  So I may overdo it a little.  But I really would rather be there watching and shouting all the same things from the stands or from behind the bench.  Instead, I had to try to focus on my regular job while waiting anxiously for a score to arrive on my cellphone.  Not the optimal way to experience a hockey game. The score did arrive in a text from hockey mom, about 20 mins after when I thought the game should have ended.  This was most likely because most rinks, with their metal and concrete construction, kill mobile reception.  I know this because I’m often challenged with trying to get NHL hockey scores, NFL football scores or work-related emails when the Boy or Devil are playing. What can I say? I multitask even at the arena.

The text I received said “1-0 for the bad guys”.  My heart sunk a little as you want them to win every game. The next text said “They had a good first period, a crappy second period and an ok third period.”  Followed by “She’s a little upset because the goal was scored against her line.”  And my heart sunk a little farther. I fired back with “Ah well..get them in the next one.”

I would have to go through the whole thing again a few hours later around game two, only this time the text read “2-0 for the good guys”. Ahhhh, that’s better. Now the girls have some confidence and momentum to take into the next contest.  The good thing about this tournament is they will go into a quarter-final round regardless of their round robin record. But you do want to go into those quarters with a winning record so you get a lighter opponent in your quest to move on to the next round.

Game three is starting in 10 mins against a very close rival from our league.  Funny how sometimes we will travel great distances to play in tournaments against teams that are based right around the corner from us.  But I digress.  I’ve already texted the Devil a few times this morning with the obligatory words of encouragement.  Her last to me was “Thanks. I’ll text you after the game. Love you. Bye.”  That will have to do, though I’d rather a string of shift-by-shift texts or maybe a live online video stream of the game, complete with play-by-play and colour commentary. I’d even take just an audio feed.  Maybe hockey mom was on to something.

#imahockeydad

Game three update from Windsor

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I know y’all are waiting with bated breath like I have been for the past hour and twenty minutes.  The latest text reads 2-1 Bad guys but they played very well and the goal was hers (the Devil’s that is).  On to the quarter finals at 4:45 with a record of 1-2; with both losses by 1 goal.  Anything can happen in girls hockey. I will have the fingers, toes and several other body parts crossed for a win. I’ll send along all the words of encouragement I can then wait semi-patiently to hear the outcome. Bahhhhhhhhh!

#imahockeydad

I hate missing games

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Hockey mom and the Devil left on a four+ hour trip to Windsor for a tournament this weekend.  I helped load the van with all of the suitcases, bags, coolers, equipment and various other paraphernalia female hockey players (and their mom’s) need to travel.  Unsurprisingly, it was a fair bit more than the Boy and I needed last weekend.  The ladies had companions for the ride, another player and her mother, so the van was loaded to the hilt with female accessories times two.  Hockey mom, seemingly travelling to a foreign land, was equipped with a stack of Google maps to get her from our driveway to the hotel, from the hotel to the rinks, from the rinks to the hotel and from the hotel to dinner and back again (I will no doubt pay for this wee sentence). And off they went on their weekend of fun and competition. 

The Boy and I were left behind because he had a practice two nights ago and has a game tonight here in town.  So far that’s meant Mucho Burrito and Big Chris BBQfor dinner the past two nights.  We are roving bachelors with unlimited options.  Last night I sat on the couch to watch the Rangers knock the Yankees out of the major league baseball playoffs (Yippee!), while the Boy played Call of Duty on Xbox Live with his hockey buddies.  Yup, we really shook it up.  We painted the town red.

Part of the problem with having two rep hockey players is they are most often going in two different directions. As such, we miss a bunch of games, which can be frustrating.  Last year, the hockey mom had an idea that someone should record and broadcast all games online (like on YouTube or something) so parents and friends who weren’t able to attend for whatever reason, could still see their kids play.  Not sure that anyone would actually pay for that service, but it’s one that I wish was available this weekend.  If I had a little capital and thought the idea might work this would be perfect job for me.  I’ve always said I just need to find a way to get someone to pay me to watch my kids play hockey.  Hell, I’d even watch other kids play hockey.

The Devil’s first game was yesterday at 10:30am so we texted briefly pre-game.  I sent along typical words of encouragement — “Skate hard!” “Have fun!” “Score me a goal!” “Give 110% out there!” “Listen to your coach!” ”Keep your head up!” “Win the battles!” If it were the Boy, I’d add in “Crush somebody!” in a purely positive sense.  So I may overdo it a little.  But I really would rather be there watching and shouting all the same things from the stands or from behind the bench.  Instead, I had to try to focus on my regular job while waiting anxiously for a score to arrive on my cellphone.  Not the optimal way to experience a hockey game. The score did arrive in a text from hockey mom, about 20 mins after when I thought the game should have ended.  This was most likely because most rinks, with their metal and concrete construction, kill mobile reception.  I know this because I’m often challenged with trying to get NHL hockey scores, NFL football scores or work-related emails when the Boy or Devil are playing. What can I say? I multitask even at the arena.

The text I received said “1-0 for the bad guys”.  My heart sunk a little as you want them to win every game. The next text said “They had a good first period, a crappy second period and an ok third period.”  Followed by “She’s a little upset because the goal was scored against her line.”  And my heart sunk a little farther. I fired back with “Ah well..get them in the next one.”

I would have to go through the whole thing again a few hours later around game two, only this time the text read “2-0 for the good guys”. Ahhhh, that’s better. Now the girls have some confidence and momentum to take into the next contest.  The good thing about this tournament is they will go into a quarter-final round regardless of their round robin record. But you do want to go into those quarters with a winning record so you get a lighter opponent in your quest to move on to the next round.

Game three is starting in 10 mins against a very close rival from our league.  Funny how sometimes we will travel great distances to play in tournaments against teams that are based right around the corner from us.  But I digress.  I’ve already texted the Devil a few times this morning with the obligatory words of encouragement.  Her last to me was “Thanks. I’ll text you after the game. Love you. Bye.”  That will have to do, though I’d rather a string of shift-by-shift texts or maybe a live online video stream of the game, complete with play-by-play and colour commentary. I’d even take just an audio feed.  Maybe hockey mom was on to something.

#imahockeydad

Lessons Learned – Part Deux

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We were able to all sleep in some on Saturday morning; if you consider 7:30am after hitting the hay at 2:00am sleeping in. Some fathers simply did not apply the lessons they had learned the previous mornings.

Following the now traditional breakfast buffet, the boys had a quick team meeting before loading their gear back into the bus, which would take us all to their first of two games against local counterparts in Oswego.

When we arrived at the arena, which we were warned would be a cold old barn, a couple of fathers astutely noticed a few things.

First off, the blackboard announcing the dressing room assignments indicated Oswego was in Room 1 and Canada..not a town, city or province, but representatives of the entire country, was in Room 2. Our coaches were told to let the team know the hopes and dreams of the nation’s hockey fans were resting on their shoulders.  And so the stereotypical notion that Americans lack basic geographical knowledge continued in tact.  If this team are ever to visit us back home we will be sure to label their room, “The Contiguous United States of America”. But I digress.

We then noticed that at least two of the players on the opposing team drove themselves to the game in what were apparently their own vehicles. Note – our Minor Midget team still has some players who have yet to celebrate their 15th birthday.  We all started wondering about the make-up of the “under 16” team our boys had been scheduled to play.  Some wondered if the local laws allowed 15 year old drivers or if there were indeed some 16 year olds on the team; there were certainly some large players…who drove their own vehicles to the rink.

Once the boys hit the ice the trepidation subsided as there was an ample mix of big and small players on the home side. We had obviously only paid attention to the former group on their way into the arena.  The boys and we would then find out that player size did not translate into player skill or speed.   The visiting Canadians came out quick and dominated the play for the most part, scoring first but then giving up a goal to finish the first period knotted at ones.  The second and third periods were similar in tone, though signs of frustration started to show on the home side as they took a few unnecessary penalties.

One thing our boys did have to get used to was an automatic offside call, which was reinstated in the U.S. some time ago. They were caught a couple of times trying to simply dump the puck over the blue line as they are accustomed to doing north of the 49th parallel; but soon adapted. I recall the Boy’s team encountering the same at a tournament in New York last year and taking quite a bit longer to adjust. 

At the end of the first cross border clash the scoreboard read Visitors (i.e. Canada) 5 – Home (Oswego) 1.

Victorious the team bus pointed itself towards nearby fast food joints where fathers and sons alike loaded up on meals, combos and super-sized sodas (that American for pop).  Back at the hotel the boys were given some free time to swim or find other distractions before we headed to the SUNY Oswego hockey game that night. Several fathers used this time to catch up on their poker.

The hockey game we were going to at the University was billed as an exhibition between the SUNY Osewego Lakers and an “All Star” team from an “Outlaw Tier 3 Junior A League” from our region up in Canada.

The Oswego team had a couple of cuts to make in their pre-season which had only begun the night before. The NCAA has some stringent rules on when you are allowed to practice and the team had literally started at midnight before we arrived then practiced again at 5am that same early morning.

We would quickly find out that an all-star Tier 3 Junior A team is no match for a perennial NCAA Division 3 finalist.  When we walked into the rink, a couple of minutes into the game, it was already 1-0 and the fans were raucous to say the least.  Perhaps the most memorable part of the whole weekend for me was the atmosphere in that building and the antics of the fans who were among the most passionate hockey fans I have ever seen.  I suppose mixing university student pride with hockey can have that affect.  The fan pointed and chanted emphatically “It’s All Your Fault!” and “Die Die Die…You Suck!” at the beleaguered opposition goaltender every time a goal was scored by their beloved Lakers. If a penalty was taken by a player on the visiting team he would be escorted to the sin bin with the chant “Ahhhhh, sit your ass down bitch!” On this night, the fans would have plenty to chant about as the Lakers skated to an almost embarrassing 17-0 win. Shots on goal favoured the Lakers 76?-14, with 12 of the “all stars” shots coming from outside the blue line. In short, this was no contest.  

You couldn’t blame the Oswego players for running up the score as some of them were fighting for one of a couple of spots on the team.  And you couldn’t blame the fans who were attending their first game of the year. They had no doubt pent up an off-season’s worth of anticipation just waiting to burst forth.

From a hockey perspective, it wasn’t much of contest, but for pure atmosphere and entertainment value it was well worth the $7 ticket price.  Having attended this game, I would love to have been at any of the playoff games that have been played in that rink over the last several years; and particularly for a 4-3 overtime win in the championship final back in 2007. It must have been pure bedlam. The players on the ice must draw pure adrenalin from a crowd like that. The experience has stuck with our boys too; who were heard chanting “Ahhhh, sit your ass down bitch!” at one of their opponents in their first regular season game back in Canada.

The post-game trip back to the hotel was relatively quiet as was the night in the hotel as it seemed the previous nights finally caught up with us. There were some pizzas ordered, cuz boys are forever hungry and arena food just didn’t cut it, but most hit the hay in preparation for the rematch with the “under 16” team.

Game two, against who we eventually found out was actually a midget team comprised of players aged 14-17, was similar to game one. The boys dominated. They built a 5-1 lead by the end of the second period. Team Canada was the recipient of several powerplay opportunities cued by Oswego frustration in the third period. The coaches reported the referees actually asked them if they wanted to work on 5 on 4 or 5 on 3 situations. The invaders from the north finished with a 9-1 win over the home team. They had represented Canada well.

It was time to pack up, pick up 17 pre-ordered Little Caesar pizzas and start the six hour journey back to anxiously waiting moms. It was a quiet ride home.  Bleary eyed they had left and now bleary eyed they would return.  

A well organized four days provided our young men with many solid life/sport lessons and memories, which for some, may last a lifetime. Many of those memories may have nothing to do with hockey. That’s just fine. As always, hockey simply provides the backdrop upon which these lessons can be laid, interpreted and applied to the benefit of the learners. Commitment, dedication, team work, loyalty, perseverance, education and respect were prevalent themes of the weekend.  The members of this team should certainly be thankful for the opportunity they were given.  I’m quite certain they increasingly will be as they encounter new situations in their evolving student careers and lives where the lessons learned can be brought to bear.

#imahockeydad

Lessons Learned – Part Deux

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We were able to all sleep in some on Saturday morning; if you consider 7:30am after hitting the hay at 2:00am sleeping in. Some fathers simply did not apply the lessons they had learned the previous mornings.

Following the now traditional breakfast buffet, the boys had a quick team meeting before loading their gear back into the bus, which would take us all to their first of two games against local counterparts in Oswego.

When we arrived at the arena, which we were warned would be a cold old barn, a couple of fathers astutely noticed a few things.

First off, the blackboard announcing the dressing room assignments indicated Oswego was in Room 1 and Canada..not a town, city or province, but representatives of the entire country, was in Room 2. Our coaches were told to let the team know the hopes and dreams of the nation’s hockey fans were resting on their shoulders.  And so the stereotypical notion that Americans lack basic geographical knowledge continued in tact.  If this team are ever to visit us back home we will be sure to label their room, “The Contiguous United States of America”. But I digress.

We then noticed that at least two of the players on the opposing team drove themselves to the game in what were apparently their own vehicles. Note – our Minor Midget team still has some players who have yet to celebrate their 15th birthday.  We all started wondering about the make-up of the “under 16” team our boys had been scheduled to play.  Some wondered if the local laws allowed 15 year old drivers or if there were indeed some 16 year olds on the team; there were certainly some large players…who drove their own vehicles to the rink.

Once the boys hit the ice the trepidation subsided as there was an ample mix of big and small players on the home side. We had obviously only paid attention to the former group on their way into the arena.  The boys and we would then find out that player size did not translate into player skill or speed.   The visiting Canadians came out quick and dominated the play for the most part, scoring first but then giving up a goal to finish the first period knotted at ones.  The second and third periods were similar in tone, though signs of frustration started to show on the home side as they took a few unnecessary penalties.

One thing our boys did have to get used to was an automatic offside call, which was reinstated in the U.S. some time ago. They were caught a couple of times trying to simply dump the puck over the blue line as they are accustomed to doing north of the 49th parallel; but soon adapted. I recall the Boy’s team encountering the same at a tournament in New York last year and taking quite a bit longer to adjust. 

At the end of the first cross border clash the scoreboard read Visitors (i.e. Canada) 5 – Home (Oswego) 1.

Victorious the team bus pointed itself towards nearby fast food joints where fathers and sons alike loaded up on meals, combos and super-sized sodas (that American for pop).  Back at the hotel the boys were given some free time to swim or find other distractions before we headed to the SUNY Oswego hockey game that night. Several fathers used this time to catch up on their poker.

The hockey game we were going to at the University was billed as an exhibition between the SUNY Osewego Lakers and an “All Star” team from an “Outlaw Tier 3 Junior A League” from our region up in Canada.

The Oswego team had a couple of cuts to make in their pre-season which had only begun the night before. The NCAA has some stringent rules on when you are allowed to practice and the team had literally started at midnight before we arrived then practiced again at 5am that same early morning.

We would quickly find out that an all-star Tier 3 Junior A team is no match for a perennial NCAA Division 3 finalist.  When we walked into the rink, a couple of minutes into the game, it was already 1-0 and the fans were raucous to say the least.  Perhaps the most memorable part of the whole weekend for me was the atmosphere in that building and the antics of the fans who were among the most passionate hockey fans I have ever seen.  I suppose mixing university student pride with hockey can have that affect.  The fan pointed and chanted emphatically “It’s All Your Fault!” and “Die Die Die…You Suck!” at the beleaguered opposition goaltender every time a goal was scored by their beloved Lakers. If a penalty was taken by a player on the visiting team he would be escorted to the sin bin with the chant “Ahhhhh, sit your ass down bitch!” On this night, the fans would have plenty to chant about as the Lakers skated to an almost embarrassing 17-0 win. Shots on goal favoured the Lakers 76?-14, with 12 of the “all stars” shots coming from outside the blue line. In short, this was no contest.  

You couldn’t blame the Oswego players for running up the score as some of them were fighting for one of a couple of spots on the team.  And you couldn’t blame the fans who were attending their first game of the year. They had no doubt pent up an off-season’s worth of anticipation just waiting to burst forth.

From a hockey perspective, it wasn’t much of contest, but for pure atmosphere and entertainment value it was well worth the $7 ticket price.  Having attended this game, I would love to have been at any of the playoff games that have been played in that rink over the last several years; and particularly for a 4-3 overtime win in the championship final back in 2007. It must have been pure bedlam. The players on the ice must draw pure adrenalin from a crowd like that. The experience has stuck with our boys too; who were heard chanting “Ahhhh, sit your ass down bitch!” at one of their opponents in their first regular season game back in Canada.

The post-game trip back to the hotel was relatively quiet as was the night in the hotel as it seemed the previous nights finally caught up with us. There were some pizzas ordered, cuz boys are forever hungry and arena food just didn’t cut it, but most hit the hay in preparation for the rematch with the “under 16” team.

Game two, against who we eventually found out was actually a midget team comprised of players aged 14-17, was similar to game one. The boys dominated. They built a 5-1 lead by the end of the second period. Team Canada was the recipient of several powerplay opportunities cued by Oswego frustration in the third period. The coaches reported the referees actually asked them if they wanted to work on 5 on 4 or 5 on 3 situations. The invaders from the north finished with a 9-1 win over the home team. They had represented Canada well.

It was time to pack up, pick up 17 pre-ordered Little Caesar pizzas and start the six hour journey back to anxiously waiting moms. It was a quiet ride home.  Bleary eyed they had left and now bleary eyed they would return.  

A well organized four days provided our young men with many solid life/sport lessons and memories, which for some, may last a lifetime. Many of those memories may have nothing to do with hockey. That’s just fine. As always, hockey simply provides the backdrop upon which these lessons can be laid, interpreted and applied to the benefit of the learners. Commitment, dedication, team work, loyalty, perseverance, education and respect were prevalent themes of the weekend.  The members of this team should certainly be thankful for the opportunity they were given.  I’m quite certain they increasingly will be as they encounter new situations in their evolving student careers and lives where the lessons learned can be brought to bear.

#imahockeydad

Lessons Learned – Part 1

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The Boy’s team (and fathers, which was a bit of a touchy subject for some mothers) were treated to a unique hockey experience over the weekend that started with all boarding a charter coach bus bound for Oswego, New York on Thursday morning at 6am.  Bleary eyed boys and dads loaded suitcases, sticks, equipment bags, coolers, a few boxes of Tim Horton’s coffee and a few more boxes of Timbits into the waiting underside and overhead compartments of the idling vehicle. The coach and manager had prepared a very detailed itinerary, which included a practice at the SUNY Oswego campus hockey rink, a campus tour, two games against a local under 16 team, two team dinners, a SUNY Oswego university exhibition hockey game and several team-building exercises. The latter activities were a primary focus of the trip. The importance of being a part of a team and putting the team first were underlying themes for the entire weekend.

The bus ride was about six hours in total so some hunkered down to catch a snooze on the way to the border.  Some seats were faintly lit by iPods or cell phones screens.  Not an hour into the trip I was alerted by the Boy’s mom that he had left his hockey stick in the van in his early morning haze.  I’d already planned on maybe looking for a deal on a stick south of the border, but it seemed that was now a certainty.  Ah well, at least we didn’t forget his skates (see a few posts back covering another trip to New York about a year ago – ohhh, yes we did).

First stop before the border was the duty free where some boys hit the Tim Horton’s and many fathers took advantage of discounted alcohol and tobacco products as an intended means to pass the time while the boys took part in their team-building functions.

At the border, all bus riders were required to disembark to vouch for their citizenship and attest to their father-son relationships.  Mom’s had, of course, already signed affidavits granting permission for their sons to travel into the U.S. with just one parent.  After a few juvenile snickers about who should have been interrogated more vigorously, we jumped back on the bus to continue our journey.

We arrived at the hotel just north of Syracuse after a quick stop for lunch.  Team roommates were assigned and father’s partnered up to share accommodations and room costs for the weekend. Boys being boys dispersed to check out their rooms, declare dibs or wrestle for the most comfortable beds and find out what trouble they could get into without getting caught.  But this was short lived as there would be an initial team meeting before dinner at Dinosaur BBQ. Dinner was generally regarded as awesome. I, for my part, made relatively short work of Tres Hombres; an array of bbq’d pork parts, mashed potatoes, baked beans and corn bread to die for.  The Boy thought his meal left a little to be desired, which left me wondering where I went wrong in his upbringing; though he is more of a beef guy by nature.

Post-dinner we headed back to the hotel where the boys and some fathers caught a movie; while other fathers broke out the cards, poker chips and duty free purchases. The team had a curfew as there was a practice early the next morning. The 7am wake-up call came a little too early for some of us fathers. But awaken we did; trudging down to the breakfast buffet before re-boarding the bus on our way to the university.

Side note – it had not yet stopped raining since we left Canada over 24 hours earlier and would not stop for another 24; which was one of the only negatives of the weekend.  

SUNY Oswego is a very well regarded Division 3 NCAA hockey school and the facilities we entered for practice were quite impressive.  We were told later that they were an upgrade from an old airport hangar, which served as the home rink only a few years ago. The team practiced for about an hour and a half; looking like they had woken up early following a 6 hour bus trip, a visit to a BBQ restaurant and a night in a hotel.  Father’s hoped the spaghetti legs and stiff arms would leave prior to their date with the under-16 team.

After practice, the boys were treated to a guided tour of the part of the campus from the Assistant Coach of the university hockey team (rain and wind cut short any possibility of a fuller tour to the relief of many dads). The tour began with a brief speech on how Division 3 university hockey works. In short, there are no athletic scholarships and all players were there as students first and hockey players second.  Some would have opportunities to pursue semi-pro or pro hockey careers, but academics were of utmost importance; a good message for impressionable 15 year-old boys to hear methinks.

The tour ended in the university team locker room; replete with its history, symbolism and messages about hard work and teamwork.  The Assistant Coach reinforced the prominent themes and gave several real-world examples of how SUNY Oswego measured and realized success. Though they are 15 years old boys, with the intermittent attention spans of 5 year olds, I don’t believe the message was lost on this group. Evidence of that fact has since been seen on and off the ice.

Back on the bus and off to a nearby Subway to quell the hunger of our growing young men and a few starving fathers; before heading to a hockey store which was reportedly just on the way back to our hotel.  Just on the way back was definitely a relative phrase as we drove a fair bit farther than expected to find the fabled location. In the U.S., unlike in Canada, you cannot just go into any sports store to find hockey gear; you have to go to a hockey-specific store.  As our bus load of eager Canadian hockey shoppers pulled up, the store owners most assuredly must have said a brief prayer of thanks for their impending windfall. Most every player left with some new piece of equipment, the Boy a new stick of course, and fathers left with lighter wallets.

The unplanned stop-off at the hockey store meant only a short hotel visit as formal dinner plans were made at Delmonico’s Italian Steakhouse.  The boys were required to wear a dress shirt and tie; to look the part of an organized and respectable team.  Dinner again was awesome; enhanced by the general atmosphere of the steakhouse and a talented roving magician who captured the nearly undivided attention of the team. His crowning feat saw a card, inscribed with the words “Barrie Colts OMHA Champs”, magically attach itself to the ceiling of the restaurant; a trick which will not soon be forgotten by any of the witnesses, young or old.

With bellies and brains full we ventured back to the hotel where the boys curfew and the dads’ poker chips awaited.  We fathers apparently forgot how early the wake-up call seemed only 18 hours earlier as our games of chance and duty free chasers took us well into the night.

The next two days would provide the actual competition the team had traveled down for along with an introduction to the spectacle that is U.S. university hockey. More to follow…

#imahockeydad

Lessons Learned – Part 1

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The Boy’s team (and fathers, which was a bit of a touchy subject for some mothers) were treated to a unique hockey experience over the weekend that started with all boarding a charter coach bus bound for Oswego, New York on Thursday morning at 6am.  Bleary eyed boys and dads loaded suitcases, sticks, equipment bags, coolers, a few boxes of Tim Horton’s coffee and a few more boxes of Timbits into the waiting underside and overhead compartments of the idling vehicle. The coach and manager had prepared a very detailed itinerary, which included a practice at the SUNY Oswego campus hockey rink, a campus tour, two games against a local under 16 team, two team dinners, a SUNY Oswego university exhibition hockey game and several team-building exercises. The latter activities were a primary focus of the trip. The importance of being a part of a team and putting the team first were underlying themes for the entire weekend.

The bus ride was about six hours in total so some hunkered down to catch a snooze on the way to the border.  Some seats were faintly lit by iPods or cell phones screens.  Not an hour into the trip I was alerted by the Boy’s mom that he had left his hockey stick in the van in his early morning haze.  I’d already planned on maybe looking for a deal on a stick south of the border, but it seemed that was now a certainty.  Ah well, at least we didn’t forget his skates (see a few posts back covering another trip to New York about a year ago – ohhh, yes we did).

First stop before the border was the duty free where some boys hit the Tim Horton’s and many fathers took advantage of discounted alcohol and tobacco products as an intended means to pass the time while the boys took part in their team-building functions.

At the border, all bus riders were required to disembark to vouch for their citizenship and attest to their father-son relationships.  Mom’s had, of course, already signed affidavits granting permission for their sons to travel into the U.S. with just one parent.  After a few juvenile snickers about who should have been interrogated more vigorously, we jumped back on the bus to continue our journey.

We arrived at the hotel just north of Syracuse after a quick stop for lunch.  Team roommates were assigned and father’s partnered up to share accommodations and room costs for the weekend. Boys being boys dispersed to check out their rooms, declare dibs or wrestle for the most comfortable beds and find out what trouble they could get into without getting caught.  But this was short lived as there would be an initial team meeting before dinner at Dinosaur BBQ. Dinner was generally regarded as awesome. I, for my part, made relatively short work of Tres Hombres; an array of bbq’d pork parts, mashed potatoes, baked beans and corn bread to die for.  The Boy thought his meal left a little to be desired, which left me wondering where I went wrong in his upbringing; though he is more of a beef guy by nature.

Post-dinner we headed back to the hotel where the boys and some fathers caught a movie; while other fathers broke out the cards, poker chips and duty free purchases. The team had a curfew as there was a practice early the next morning. The 7am wake-up call came a little too early for some of us fathers. But awaken we did; trudging down to the breakfast buffet before re-boarding the bus on our way to the university.

Side note – it had not yet stopped raining since we left Canada over 24 hours earlier and would not stop for another 24; which was one of the only negatives of the weekend.  

SUNY Oswego is a very well regarded Division 3 NCAA hockey school and the facilities we entered for practice were quite impressive.  We were told later that they were an upgrade from an old airport hangar, which served as the home rink only a few years ago. The team practiced for about an hour and a half; looking like they had woken up early following a 6 hour bus trip, a visit to a BBQ restaurant and a night in a hotel.  Father’s hoped the spaghetti legs and stiff arms would leave prior to their date with the under-16 team.

After practice, the boys were treated to a guided tour of the part of the campus from the Assistant Coach of the university hockey team (rain and wind cut short any possibility of a fuller tour to the relief of many dads). The tour began with a brief speech on how Division 3 university hockey works. In short, there are no athletic scholarships and all players were there as students first and hockey players second.  Some would have opportunities to pursue semi-pro or pro hockey careers, but academics were of utmost importance; a good message for impressionable 15 year-old boys to hear methinks.

The tour ended in the university team locker room; replete with its history, symbolism and messages about hard work and teamwork.  The Assistant Coach reinforced the prominent themes and gave several real-world examples of how SUNY Oswego measured and realized success. Though they are 15 years old boys, with the intermittent attention spans of 5 year olds, I don’t believe the message was lost on this group. Evidence of that fact has since been seen on and off the ice.

Back on the bus and off to a nearby Subway to quell the hunger of our growing young men and a few starving fathers; before heading to a hockey store which was reportedly just on the way back to our hotel.  Just on the way back was definitely a relative phrase as we drove a fair bit farther than expected to find the fabled location. In the U.S., unlike in Canada, you cannot just go into any sports store to find hockey gear; you have to go to a hockey-specific store.  As our bus load of eager Canadian hockey shoppers pulled up, the store owners most assuredly must have said a brief prayer of thanks for their impending windfall. Most every player left with some new piece of equipment, the Boy a new stick of course, and fathers left with lighter wallets.

The unplanned stop-off at the hockey store meant only a short hotel visit as formal dinner plans were made at Delmonico’s Italian Steakhouse.  The boys were required to wear a dress shirt and tie; to look the part of an organized and respectable team.  Dinner again was awesome; enhanced by the general atmosphere of the steakhouse and a talented roving magician who captured the nearly undivided attention of the team. His crowning feat saw a card, inscribed with the words “Barrie Colts OMHA Champs”, magically attach itself to the ceiling of the restaurant; a trick which will not soon be forgotten by any of the witnesses, young or old.

With bellies and brains full we ventured back to the hotel where the boys curfew and the dads’ poker chips awaited.  We fathers apparently forgot how early the wake-up call seemed only 18 hours earlier as our games of chance and duty free chasers took us well into the night.

The next two days would provide the actual competition the team had traveled down for along with an introduction to the spectacle that is U.S. university hockey. More to follow…

#imahockeydad