Just the other day, my dad and I made our normal trip out to Pure Hockey's annual summer sale: 25 percent off everything in the store. For those who don't know, 25 percent off hockey equipment is a steal. At any rate, the sale is a great opportunity to go through your hockey bag and check out what you need for the upcoming season, for this sale only happens once a year.
In my case, I needed new skates.
When we got to Pure Hockey, I was fitted for new skates. I got the new CCM Tacks 6092s: $450 of speed, protection and comfort (after the 25 percent-off win, they went down to $337). While waiting in-line to pay, my dad looked at me and laughed.
"Well, Evan, it's crazy to think about it like this, but these will be the last pair of skates I ever buy you.” I'm 17-years-old, and am going into my senior year of High School. After this final year of varsity hockey, I'm out on my own and done with competitive, organized hockey in my town. I'll play club for whatever college I go to, but that will be nothing like playing in youth or high school hockey.
So when he said that, it really dawned on me just how big of a journey Youth Hockey has been and how far I've come since pushing chairs back in '04.
Youth Hockey has four main "age-groups": Mites, Squirts, Pee-Wees, and Bantams. Yes, I know, the names are funny. Altogether, those four groups last at least eight years.
To say those eight years taught me a lot would be an understatement.
I think one of the biggest lessons I learned from Youth Hockey is that the process is never easy. Back then, the goal was just to play hockey -- my teammates and I loved the game, and nothing could get in our way of it. To achieve that goal, though, was not so easy. Going to a game out in Hyde Park -- basically an outdoor rink with a tent pitched over it -- at 6:00 AM in the dead of winter is not what most would describe as "fun.”
I distinctly remember a game back when I was a "Mite A" (third grade). The game was at 7:00 AM on a Saturday morning in South Boston: that's a good 30-40 minutes away from my house in Framingham. The temperatures were well-below zero and inside the rink, they were even lower.
It also didn't help that comparing the size of the locker room to that of a shoe box wasn't so far-fetched -- and that was the case for most rinks.
During the actual game, we passed around hand-warmers just so we'd be able to grip our sticks, let alone feel our hands. Kids wore mittens under their gloves and they were still cold. Kids cried because of the cold.
That game was a microcosm for what Youth Hockey would be for me and my teammates. No matter the conditions, we wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. While sports like little league baseball, travel basketball, and football had set, convenient schedules in at least "okay" conditions, we were given the hard road to our goal of playing hockey.
By being given the hard road, it went a long way in the grand scheme of life. It taught us that to achieve our dreams, we had to work for them no matter the circumstances. It taught me to be as competitive as I could possibly be in everything that I do and have a desire to win that is unmatched. Effort was everything and not having any regrets was key. This helps lead me to my next point about learning to be tough.
I could go on-and-on about how in today's America, people are becoming more and more sensitive and less and less tough. To play Youth Hockey, you had to be tough. From the spontaneous schedule, to the temperature conditions, to the rink conditions: it toughened you up.
I know it's cliché to say hockey players are the toughest around, but it's so true. I played with casts, sprains and contusions (a cool name for "bruises"). On the ice, nothing was off the table -- the referees couldn't see the whole ice. Even though there was no checking until Bantams, we found our ways to get back at the other team. Once those doors closed at each end of the ice, anything could happen.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me" -- that phrase always stood true throughout youth hockey. If we were winning, we could throw the classic "scoreboard" chirp at the other team. When we were losing, we had to be a bit more creative.
With every circumstance we faced in Youth Hockey, it always made us tougher. It didn't matter what town you were from. Whether that be Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin, or Dorchester, or Ashland: if you wanted to be on the ice, you had to be tough. And if you weren't already tough, the sub-zero temperatures you skated in got you to be.
One of the biggest lessons I learned from Youth Hockey was to appreciate my parents. Obviously no kid in Youth Hockey has their license (although some of those huge kids from Southie always seemed like there was a little something "extra" in their water). So the people who drove us to our games were our parents.
No one likes driving to a rink 40 minutes away in the middle of a blizzard. However for some reason, hockey parents seemed to love it. I couldn't help but gain respect for my parents for driving me to every single game. They would have rather died than make me ride to a game with different parents -- not because they didn't trust them, but because they wanted to be there. Because of that, I can't help but appreciate my parents even more.
In Youth Hockey, we were brothers, and even the girls were integrated right in. The thought of sexism didn't even exist. If you were a girl on our team, you weren't treated any differently. They had the same goal we did, and that was to win. So long as you wanted to win, we accepted you on our team. Yes, we had our share of beefs with each other, but I came to learn that that's just life and in the end, those guys and girls were family. As much as the idea of familiarity breeding contempt was evident, we were brothers (and sisters) who just were out doing what we loved.
And don't be mistaken -- we had each other's backs. That was definitely a lesson that I took from Youth Hockey. If you want to succeed in life and build true connections with others, you have to have their backs.
Looking back, I wouldn't have rather grown up in any other sport; I wouldn't have wanted to grow up anywhere but Loring Arena. A lot of my good friends now are ones I met through Youth Hockey. I got the privilege to meet some incredible people who truly cared about sharing this great game with countless generations. I had the privilege to play alongside some great players and people -- some of whom I share the ice with for my High School Varsity Team, and I couldn't be more thankful for that.
I was blessed with the opportunity of playing Youth Hockey and am grateful for all of the lessons I've learned from it. Those lessons and experiences are ones I will always carry with me. I've realized that it's the little moments I had in Youth Hockey that meant the most.
I can't wait to give the gift of Youth Hockey to my kids someday.
