BOYHOOD REVISTED

It was surrounded on three sides by fence, at the back of our yard.  In the summer it served as a vegetable garden and in the winter my father would flood it.  Memory tells me it was huge but reality would probably show that it was a small patch of ice, the perfect size for a little boy.  I have no way of knowing though because we left there when I was 7 and I have never been back.  I prefer the memory, it’s more special.  This little patch of heaven is where I learned to skate and fall in love with the game of hockey.  It must have been bloody cold out there most of the time, it was Northern Alberta after all, but I don’t recall, I just remember the darkness, the snow and the hot chocolate afterwards.  I also remember an empty lot a few doors down that the neighborhood dads would flood so that all of us kids could go skate.  The game, in it’s purest form, was seared into me early.

It’s been 25 years since I last played a real, competitive game of hockey, 10 years since I played a game of any kind and 11 since I last stood behind the bench as a coach.  I am not sure I have any interest in ever strapping on the full gear ever again.  That time has passed.  But there is something special about a clean sheet of ice, isn’t there?  If I ever spot an outdoor rink of any kind while on my travels, I get excited, I blurt out expletives, I stare.  Why?  Because it’s special, it awakens the little boy inside who used his stick to help stay on his feet and couldn’t wait for hot chocolate when he was done.  

I live out of town on an acreage as many of you know.  On this acreage we have a pond.  It’s not just a pond, it’s The Pond at Hurricane Abbey.  In the summer, right at dusk, one can often hear the ducks flutter in and out and red winged blackbirds sing from morning till night and if you get too close to their nests on the edge while cutting the grass, they dive bomb you.  I love the pond.  By mid-November it’s frozen over and yes, it becomes a skating rink.  

I haven’t skated on it in a couple of years.  Cleaning it off with a shovel is not a lot of fun.  Flooding also presents a challenge in that you have to string out a couple hundred feet of hose to reach the ice.  Laying down a nice flood can be a very tranquil experience but tranquility can turn to pure panic if your tap has some ice in it and you flood half your basement.  Don’t do this, especially at Christmas, as it could create tension in the household and get you banned from further flooding that calendar year.  I might have done that once.

Yesterday I was bored.  It was snowing lightly but not enough to actually have to plow the driveway.  I had to do something so I walked over to the pond my old Sherwood PMP walking stick and tested the ice.  Solid!!!  John could run on here.  I’m doing this!  I fired John up, wheeled him out, smashed through the cattails and got busy.  I was done in 15 minutes.  Wow!!  This is awesome.  I love John, he’s my tractor.  He saves me hours of work.

Today, I went back out to check.  There was a bit more snow that had accumulated but that’s why I have John.  In another 15 minutes, the new snow was gone.  Oh yeah, you know it Pilgrim, I am going out there!  I have no small children here, I am far from childhood myself (at least in size – there, beat you to it) but I simply cannot resist going for a skate and if you are going to skate, you gotta have pucks and if you have pucks of course you need a net.  Let’s not get into the debate as to why a grown man has a regulation ice hockey net, I have one so deal with it.  I have one and it’s on my rink right now.  

This is what winter should look like!

I skated for close to an hour.  I could hear coyotes down by the river, cayaying at the sound of the coming train.  A car drove by and one can only imagine what they were thinking.  I didn’t want to go in but I knew I probably should.  I gathered up the pucks and put them in a pail and went for a last skate around, checking for any stragglers.  I was startled to look up and see a man standing there.  He was here to paint the cabinets but couldn’t get into the house.  I knew he was coming but during the hour that I was out there, I got lost, lost to another time, a time when all that mattered was a stick, a puck, skates and a sheet of ice!