Learning How to “Dad” from the Best in the Business

Fatherhood is hard. Yeah, there, I said it. Trumped only marginally by motherhood because of a nine-month gestation period and several agonizing hours of labour pain, we admittedly ill-equipped male halves of the species are charged by the Universe with helping procreate, nurture, protect and raise complex bundles of life from conception through the terrible twos, the teen years and ultimately into adulthood.

So where, we plead, is the operating manual for this Herculean task? Where might we find the cosmic instruction sheet or YouTube video on how to do all of this correctly; if there even is such a thing? If these paternal tomes exist, I certainly haven’t been privy to them, nor have I spoken with anyone who has. Rather, each of us is left to our own devices, our often questionable masculine intuition and what we can pick up from our own fathers, forefathers, friends, peers and otherwise experienced dads. For instance, my dad instilled an appreciation for all things sport in me. He’s also, no doubt, largely responsible for my competitive nature. He drove me to countless arenas both near and far for hockey practices and games when I was but a wee lad (insert short joke of your choice here for comic relief.) I’ve obviously followed quite closely in his footsteps.

Super Dad

            Sun’s Out, Guns Out!

However, the Dad Gods have also blessed me with a superb role model whose fatherly instincts are beyond reproach. You see, I have this friend who I can confidently say qualifies as a bona fide Super Dad. A man whose devotion, commitment and pride in his Boys is, in my estimation, equaled by few (present company excluded). And yes, I know lots of dads go above and beyond for their kids (present company now included), but this guy has consistently set the bar ridiculously high for the rest of us. From the moment each of his sons were born, he has sacrificed time and time again to bring his kids up properly, to steadfastly teach them right from wrong, to ensure they grew up to be fine upstanding young men. In this he has succeeded in spades and his pride shines through whenever he speaks about them or their personal accomplishments to date.

This Dad's the BestIf you look up “dedication” in the dictionary, I’m positive you’ll find my buddy’s smiling mug. Some sports parents feverishly throw together pre or post-game snacks for their kids as they head out the door to the next field or arena. This guy literally spends hours filling coolers to the brim with homemade epicurean wonders; like 48 char-broiled, chicken souvlakis, a few dozen individually prepared spinach and pepper frittatas or mangos slices pared just so in order to maximize their tropical sweetness. His Boys, along with their no doubt salivating teammates, needed to eat and eat well they did.

Lots of dads take a little time off work to cheer at most of their kids’ games. My buddy has been known to drive five hours in one direction then back again to make sure he didn’t miss a minute of either Boy’s competition. All, of course, regardless the cost of food, gas, his time or anything else which might otherwise be a deterrent. On more than one occasion, I’ve tried to see if he slipped up, so I could catch a glimpse of the red cape I suspect he’s been tucking under his collar.

And never mind his own kids, this dude is everyone’s favourite uncle. Each child naturally drawn in by his larger-than-life spirit and genuine caring nature. Or perhaps it was the sincerely appreciated, albeit unnecessary Christmas presents he delivered every year without fail or the $5 he’d leave under their pillows for the gracious loans of their beds to save him a late-night drive home. On several occasions he’d show up at a rink to watch the Boy or Devil play as he’d also done more than once for other friends’ kids. Post game he was their biggest fan (present company excluded for a second time.) Unca Poobs is quite simply the best!

The only real blemish on this gentleman’s sparkling resume is the time he ruined the Holidays by tackling a certain family’s Christmas tree and in so doing crushing several cherished ornaments. In his defence, the Scotch Pine had been needling him the entire evening and the host of the yuletide event was eggnogging him on. This transgression was quickly forgotten.

In the fatherly helper category, he’s also come in handy. For instance, on one occasion he deftly suggested the Devil consider substituting her somewhat provocative teenage apparel choice for a burlap bag and some binder twine, so an not to attract any pre-pubescent admirers. What father wouldn’t appreciate this kind of sensible fashion advice?

Right now, my dear friend is going though a pretty rough time (#fuckcancer), yet even in this, his ability to inspire only grows. His current circumstances are hardly keeping him from cheering on the sidelines of blustery November rugby matches. Whatever he’s feeling on the inside is tucked bravely away as he stoically roots his lads and their teams on. An opportunity to teach lesson in courage and perseverance is not lost on him

Dad Done Good

       This Dad Done Good!

Overall, I think I’ve been a pretty decent dad, an accomplishment I owe in no small part to the example set by my fellow father. Thanks for helping me figure out how to do a fair chunk of this Brother. Methinks we done did good.

#imahockeydad

p.s. A GoFundMe campaign has been established here https://www.gofundme.com/eh96uwz8 for my friend to help cover some of his medical expenses. Please check it out and consider donating if you’re so inclined.

p.s.s. On a broader, related note, if you have another extra sec and can spare an extra shekel or two, bounce over to my #Movember page at https://mobro.co/imahockeydad to me help kick cancer’s ass and support men’s health. All us men-folk would be ever so grateful.

Lessons Learned – Part Deux

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

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