Hockey, and the memory of a lifetime

I volunteer - a lot. It drives my wife mad sometimes, wondering why I give so much of my time (for free) to organizations (who don't pay), when I could be spending all of that extra time at home. One of things I am donating my time for is the IIHF World Junior Hockey Tournament, happening right here in my home town of Ottawa. It's, as I described to my lovely wife, a chance of a lifetime. I'll be working (for free) on the media communications team, a great opportunity to enhance my skills, build my network of contacts, and be part of a holiday tradition that starts on Dec. 26 every year. Ask most, if not all, hockey enthusiasts in Canada, and they all have fond memories of the World Juniors.

The kids on the ice, afterall, are the stars of tomorrow.

And so, that is my long segue into last night. As an incentive for being a volunteer, you receive certain freebies. On this occasion, it was two tickets to the Team Canada intrasquad game, played at Scotiabank Place. My son, Aiden, who is five, is really beginning to appreciate the game of hockey, and so I saw this as my opportunity to spend some real quality time with him, and to see some of the best teenagers in the country hammer it out for a chance to represent their country on an international stage.

We started off like most boys do - go to Marshy's Restaurant for a beer (and chocolate milk) and some pub grub before the game. Then, it was off to our seats.

Since it was Team Red vs. Team White, it was unclear who the 'good guys' and 'bad guys' were, so Aiden came up with a brilliant plan - whoever scores first, that's who we'll cheer for. And so it was Team White for the rest of the game, and god love 'em, they won both the game and the shootout.

But all of that is not what's really important.

The look on his face when the players took to the ice, the unabashed dancing in the aisle when the music blared during the stoppage of play (dance like no one is watching, right?), the unsolicited hugs and 'I love you's' throughout the evening. As I switched between looking at my little boy and the game, I realized how special this moment in time was. I had become my father, watching me take my first steps, skiing on my own for the first time, staying up late watching the Habs on CBC - all of those precious moments that form the bond between father and son.

Of course, I felt compelled to take Aiden to the Sens store after the game, and so it was there that I became fully aware that his favourite player is Dany Heatley, and that Aiden wants to be a goalie. Hey, you can't have enough famous Plante goalies!

And as we drove home on a very cold December night, with the full moon closer to Earth than at any other time, a tired, sleeping boy dozing in the back seat, and me replaying the evening in my head, I know that Aiden will come away remembering the sights and sounds of the rink, and that I was right there with him. I will come away with the memory that I was right there, with him.