Saturday Afternoon Hockey

Last week, in the middle of a busy day at work, I took in a bantam hockey game. I knew none of the players and none of the parents; I truly had no connection to either team, but it was such a pleasure to watch.

This bantam house game featured the Glenlake Hawks and the Calgary Saints. I sat in the Glenlake section. None of the parents seemed to mind that an unfamiliar twenty-something-year-old sat amongst them. I didn't say a word to anyone, instead I listened to the parents and grandparents tell stories. Shortly after I sat down the puck was dropped. The Saints took an early lead, but Glenlake, the true underdogs in this game, rallied back and were down only 4-3 going into the third period. A series of quick goals gave them the lead that they clung onto until the very end. It was a wonderful game that had both sets of parents cheering. There were big saves, great goals, and best of all, everybody looked like they were enjoying themselves.

I really do love the sport of hockey and I enjoy watching every level of the game, but there's something special to me about minor hockey. Before you ask, no I'm not a paedophile, but it's fun watching the younger players enjoying the game. I've noticed the older they get, the more this game becomes a business. Whenever I watch games like this it makes me wish I could go back and play minor hockey all over again and appreciate it a little more. I pose the question to you do you ever wish you could go back in time and do something over again, appreciating it more this time around than when you first did it as a child?