The End of a Hockey Dream

I now know how it feels when a parent comes to the realization that their child does not have what it takes to make it all the way. When it's blatantly apparent that time has run out. I can't blame my son, he's doing his best. And I know it's not healthy to live your dreams through your child but everything was going so well. From the moment he could crawl I had a mini stick in his hand. As soon as he could stand I had him on bob skates. Then came formal skating lessons and finally the key element that was going to put him over the top....that's right, the backyard rink! Backbreaking nights shovelling that rink. Remember the winter of 2008? It was all worth it with the dream so close to becoming reality. But it all ended tonight, right there in the bleachers of Mlacak arena. Mlacak! I don't even know how to pronounce it, but that's where it all came crashing down...at the Kanata Minor Hockey Association 5 year old initiation sort-outs.

I knew we were in trouble during warmups. While the other children were skating around the ice, some struggling to stand, others motoring around impressively, my son was in the center ice circle, practicing what he and I have come to call "the move".  It's this thing he does where he takes a few strides then starts gliding while slaloming from side to side like a skier. I have no idea where he got "the move" but I knew I was in trouble when he pulled it out during warmups. Then the drills started and things went from bad to worse. He had met up with one of his favorite kindergarten mates in the dressing room and the two of them were goofing off while the coaches were giving the instructions. Imagine that, on the most important night of his life there's my 5 year old playing the fool with his buddy while the coach walked through the drill. From station to station he went, with no idea which cone to skate to or when to switch from forward to backward crossovers.

My wife arrived a third of the way through and she could tell something was wrong. She tried to console me but there was no use. We watched together as he pulled "the move" time after time, even as the coaches were imploring him to skate hard. Did he not understand the magnitude of the situation? This was sort-outs! Then as he moved to the station right in front of us he did the unforgiveable. He looked up at us with a huge smile on his face and started waving. I was furious! What did he think he was supposed to be doing out there? Having fun?

By the time the practice had come to an end I had given up all hope. But as I made my way down to meet my boy and walk him to the dressing room I knew I had to be strong; that it was my job to give him support in this time of need. I'll give the kid credit though, he put on a brave face, giggling and horsing around with his school buddy as I got him undressed like nothing had happened. His buddy's father asked me if this was my son's first year? When I said yes he commented on how well he was skating. Nice guy I thought, rubbing it in! Then I did what any self respecting hockey dad would do, I quickly got him out of his gear and stormed out of that place.

On the quiet drive home I thought about whether my reaction was appropriate. Was I making too much of one bad night? He's only 5 after all. Did he still have a future in hockey? Years of early morning practices together, tournaments, road trips, mini sticks in hotel hallways? Is it possible that minor hockey is really all about having fun, goofing around with your buddies in the dressing room?

Nah!

Then a second thought came to my mind that lifted my spirits. Kanata Basketball Association "Small Ball" sort-outs are only three weeks away! Three weeks to work on that left hand move to the basket. Look out baby, here we come!