On these Retro Re-Posts, I like to tell a little story about how an older post relates to my childhood and then introduce new and old readers to an article they may have missed or a chance to revisit an article they read a while back.
My family has always been into ice hockey. My Dad played growing up on ponds and would eventually play in men's leagues well into his late 40s. His playing came to an abrupt end one night when he broke his foot after getting hit by a slapshot the night before leaving for vacation. After the injury, he stopped playing but moved behind the bench, coaching many of the teams I played for.
When I was growing up, youth sports weren't nearly as organized as they are today. We had "house leagues" where the local rink set up a bunch of teams made up of kids who signed up (either alone or as a team), and my school district loosely organized a team at every age group. There was only one "travel" team in my area growing up, but you had to be not only very good to play on that team but be rich as well, as they were very expensive to cover the travel costs to play all of the out of state teams.
Today, the kid's teams in my old school district may as well be professional teams with matching tracksuits, advertising, dedicated practice facilities, and more. Back then, when I joined my first league in 1990 in first grade, it was a "come as you are" approach with everyone's hand-me-down equipment at the outdoor rink at Bear Mountain. It was only when I played on the Varsity team in high school everyone finally had matching uniforms and organized practice schedules.
As I got older, I played on several teams and switched to playing goalie when I played for my first "school team" in the house league in about 5th grade (which would be '94/'95.)
In the summer of 1997 or '98, all I wanted to do was hang out, watch TV, play computer games, and watch wrestling. That year, the outdoor ice rink at Bear Mountain decided to put together a roller rink and league for the summer by melting the ice and coating the concrete underneath with this gel-like substance made for roller skating. My ice hockey coach, who I had thought I wouldn't see until September, decided this was a great way for us to get in shape for the coming season and stick together as a team. My parents loved the idea, mostly thinking this was a great way for me to get out of the house.
I didn't like the idea to begin with. I didn't want to mess up my good, expensive goalie equipment on the non-ice surface, so I appealed to my parents' cheapness to not make me play. They agreed it would be best not to damage my equipment, so my Dad said I should play left wing again. I wasn't that good at anything besides goalie, and what made it worse, I was afraid to get hit in the full-contact game and spent most of my time ducking other players. The older kids from the high school that I'd known for years at this point made fun of the hand-me-down borrowed equipment I was using to play left wing, and as anyone who lived through the 8th grade knows, the last thing you want is a group of jocks teasing you. Then, they began making fun of me for the way I skated. As a goalie who always wears bulky protective equipment, I had developed a funny way of skating so that I could skate fast without tripping over myself. Without that equipment on, skating this way made me look awkward, which led to more jokes and insults. I wanted out of the whole deal before the first game even started.
It was the end of July and early August, and it was sweltering, with temperatures in the upper 90's with no shade out on the rink. I hated the heat, and between it and the teasing, I was ready to quit. Once, my parents had given me a cold, wet washcloth to wear around my neck on the bench. I got out onto the rink and forgot it was there and dropped it somewhere. The referee came over to the bench and commented about someone leaving this "rag" on the ice and tossed the washcloth on the ground. When I picked it up, the kids all laughed at me. Looking back, I don't know what was so funny about it, but that day I just wanted to die of embarrassment. Nowadays, I'd tell everyone where they could go and stick the "rag," but you know how it was when you're that young, and older kids gang up on you.
Honestly, it was probably an 8 game season, and I can only remember playing in 2 or 3 games. I made excuses and tried to hide the schedule from my parents, but since they paid for me to play on this team, there was no way they'd let me skip a game. I would frequently roll off the bench when nobody was looking and skate around the arena during games, trying to blend into the background so that I wouldn't have to play.
One time, it grew dark and began to thunder off in the distance, and I was scared to be outside (on a mountaintop) during the storm. The game kept going, but I left the rink and told my parents it was time to go.
My Dad just told me it was "heat lightning" and to get myself back on the rink. The game continued, and I kept trying to leave. During an intermission between periods, I had convinced my parents that the game would be called off for the storm (which honestly was still way off in the distance), and we were just starting to leave when my Mom noticed everyone was still skating on the rink. I was *this* close!
While I may have hated playing roller hockey, I indeed loved watching ESPN2's Pro Beach Hockey with my brother during our summer vacation that year.
I don't know why it sticks out to me, but I remember it was raining that day, and we were inside the house alone while my parents were at work. My brother was blasting MTV or VH1, as was his usual routine, and I was in the back on the computer doing something like playing DOOM or Microsoft Flight Simulator. He yelled for me to come look at the TV and I walked out into the living room, expecting some nonsensical music video. He had switched over to ESPN2 and was watching this bright, colorful version of roller hockey with ramps behind the net and everything. And it was on a beach! Cool!
We instantly fell in love with this show and picked our favorite teams and players.
That summer, we spent many hours watching roller hockey together, which was the first time in a long time we had gotten along doing anything together.
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