Hockey is a commitment. Wait, that’s an understatement.
Hockey is a how-much-do-I-really-love-my-kids kind of commitment.
When Izzy came to me and told me she wanted to play hockey,
I did what all good moms are supposed to do. I gave her the “that sounds fun”
pep talk and waited two minutes for her to forget.
You can imagine my boot-shakin’ angst when she didn’t.
Izzy: There’s a hockey meeting today at 7 o’clock.
Katie: Wow. That’s pushing my bedtime. I’ll tell you what.
Let’s spend the next year really mulling this over and if you still want to
play, I’ll call and see when the meeting’s going to be for the year after that.
Izzy: This year’s meeting is tonight and it’s at Skyline
High School.
Katie: Hmmmm. Skyline High School. I’m not sure where that
is.
Izzy: I told Mrs. Deede you would say that. She’s said to
tell you it’s the one on Pancheri.
Katie: Pancheri. Pancheri. It’s not ringing a bell.
Izzy: Mom.
Much like the U.S. Government, I don’t negotiate with
terrorists.
Unlike our government, I just do exactly what they tell
me.
The short version of this is I ended up with not one but two
hockey players’ as the little sister of this house is very impressionable.
On the very first day of practice, we showed up with all the
gear, ready to go.
I nearly passed out.
The ice was full of mini-future Olympians, flying around at
breakneck speeds.
My nine-year-old had never even skated sans one disastrous
attempt involving rollerblades and a little too much birthday cake.
Katie: Isabelle, we seriously cannot do this. I could be
arrested for child abuse if I let you out onto that ice with absolutely zero
skills.
Izzy: It will be fine.
The Deede twins do it. Maddie does it.
Katie: Those girls came down the birth canal with ice skates
on, chanting ‘defense’ through baby-sized mouth guards. You and I need to have a long
discussion regarding the term ‘natural athlete.’
Izzy: I can do this.
Peeps, let me tell you. The first few practices were so
painful, I couldn’t even watch. When I did muster the courage to step back in,
my jaw dropped. In less than a month, the coaches had morphed my
never-been-on-skates child into a hockey player.
As we drove to the first game, Izzy asked me about the rules.
Since I had no idea, I told her to watch the other kids. After the game, I
definitely had a few pointers for her.
Katie: Rule #1. If Damien, NoMo or David has the puck, do
your best to stay out of their way.
Izzy: Okay.
Katie: Rule #2. If you do happen to get the puck, get it
back to Damien, NoMo, David or anyone else on the Travel team. Do not attempt
to do anything else at this point in your hockey career.
Izzy: That makes sense.
Katie: Rule #3. I was so impressed when you skated into the
splits. It really made me feel good about all those years in dance. But I
noticed the other kids just keep their hands on their sticks, like ready to
play hockey all the time.
Izzy: I can do that.
Katie: Rule #4. I don’t care if your mouth guard is rubbing
so hard, it’s exposing a nerve, never again skate over to your coach and drop
it in his hand.
Izzy: But he’s so nice…
Katie: Oh he’s the nicest guy in the world for not taking
one look at that and pushing you out of his way to wash his hands. I was dry
heaving on his behalf.
Izzy: Okay. I won’t do that again.
Katie: Rule #5. It seems to me that when a parent says ‘off
sides’ the game stops two seconds later. I’ve decided it’s a secret code word
between moms and the umpire. When you see the child you’ve loved, fed and
nurtured for the last nine to ten years getting roughed up, you say ‘off sides’
so they stop the game and rescue your child.
Izzy: I’ll have
to ask Coach Mahoney about that…
Katie: Okay, touch base and let me know. I’m only 90% sure.
Now that hockey season is drawing to an end, can I tell you
what I think about the Idaho Falls Youth Hockey Association?
You won’t find a better program in this town. The leadership
pours countless hours investing into the
young people of our community. Some of
the coaches don’t even have kids on the team, yet give so much of their time
mentoring the next generation. My kid plays just as much as the best player on
the team and afterwards, everyone is focused on progress instead of
shortcomings. The mere fact my epileptic child can skate is a testament to the
skill of the amazing people who throw their lives into this sport. Since no one
is getting paid, this isn’t about money but for the greater good of our little
ones.
