This was written in early 2005 but it still one of my favourites:
Monday night hockey? Yes, it was suppose to be the last night of the season so I excitedly pulled into the parking lot (a little late as usual) only to see 22 women standing around looking anxious.
“Great; I’m not really that late,” was my first thought, followed by, “What the heck is happening?”
Turns out that the sign in front of the arena for the past month so announcing “Ice on until the 25th” was not so. What a disappointment. For months the routine of Monday night hockey was something that I looked forward to, craved even.
Ice hockey you say? You bet.
It’s one of the fastest growing female sports in Canada and I’m hooked. It is hard to believe that before October of 2002 I had never really played ice hockey. I still snicker at the reactions I get as I dash from meetings with a quick apology: “Got to go. I have to be on the ice in 30 minutes”.
The best was going to trade-in a helmet that didn’t quite fit. I stood at the counter explaining to the salesperson that it was too narrow and that I wanted to trade it for a slightly wider model.
He listened carefully, nodded, looked around and said “so where is the young fellow?”
At first I was confused, but quickly responded “that’ll be me”.
So, what’s this all about; the idea of a women at my age and particular point in life picking up the game of hockey.
Not a simple question to answer but I am certain it is not for the beer drinking in the dressing room afterward. (Sorry guys we don’t get that)
We all rush to the stadiums and, once the game is done, rush to our frantic lives. Maybe that is part of the answer; for about 50 minutes we’re free on the ice. Free to chase that silly black disk around and around; racing up and down the ice and occasionally getting that incredible opportunity to score a goal. There just isn’t a better feeling than seeing that puck pass the goal line and know that it came off the end of your stick. I know because I can proudly say that I have had that experience twice — once for my team and once for the other team.
Does the game get rough? Anytime you have 12 people on the ice all wanting the same thing — control of the puck — anything can happen.
The recreational league is non-contact, that is, if you don’t count the times when a player just can’t stop. I love the pick up games we play for fun outside the league where we spice it up a little and friendly rivalry gives way to the odd bit of one-upmanship.
There the moves of some of the more skillful player are to be admired and, for a novice like me, envied. Most of us don’t shy away from the corners and an easy turnover is the last thing on anyone’s mind. It’s all in good fun and so far the only injury I have received is the mild bruising of my pride from time to time.
And we have referees. Some people think women playing recreational hockey don’t need referees; not so. We take our hockey seriously and are just as frustrated when the off-sides don’t get called or the icing call that we desperately want gets waved off. I do know that since I have started to play the game I have an increased respect for the role of the referee. Can you imagine having 12 women telling you all at once what they think the call should have been?
Today, I can’t picture my life without hockey although it will July before the summer games start so until then I have hung up my skates. I don’t know if the almost over night craze for women’s hockey some how changes the game but I would like to think that I have discover something truly special. Whether it is the friendships that develop naturally through playing any team sports or whether it is the fact that I feel great when I get off the ice I know that hockey is now a part of me. I’m not a great player, I’m not even a good player but by golly I have heart and an helmet the fits properly so I’m playing and I invite you give it a shot - oops no pun intended.
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