The Good Ol' Hockey Game.

It is with mixed emotions that I write this memory. It is a memory I knew I would someday write, but had hoped I never would. I write this memory about the one thing that has been a constant for almost my entire life. I write this memory about the one thing that has brought me so much joy and happiness along with so many cherished memories. I write this memory about my passion for playing hockey.

If you have read some of my other memories on this blog you’ll already know that hockey is and has been a huge part of my life. From my first ever skate on the outdoor rink at Mitchell Field back in the mid-60’s to playing shinny at Ranee Field during the 70’s. From my first Leaf game back in 1972 to the final game ever played at Maple Leaf Gardens in 1999 and the hundreds of games that I attended in between. From my first ice rentals when I was just twelve years old to the years I spent playing with my NWAA buddies in my twenties at Forest Hill Arena. From the hundreds of hours I spent playing road hockey only to be surpassed by the thousands of hours I spent playing ice hockey.

When I think back and recall my first hockey memory that being a Ron Ellis goal scored on St Louis Blues goalie Glenn Hall back in 1968. I could never have imagined how that one goal would trigger a passion that would consume me for the rest of my life. Forty years later I wrote Mr. Ellis thanking him for scoring the goal that made me a lifelong hockey fan. Mr. Ellis replied that he was happy to have played a part in igniting my passion for our national game.

Yes Mr. Ellis that you did.

It was my passion for playing hockey that provided me the key for my escape from a fanatical religion while growing up in a Toronto housing project and being raised by the most devout Jehovah’s Witness I ever knew, my mother. It was my passion for playing hockey that even to this day my all-time favourite job was working at Collegiate Sports running the hockey department. It was my passion for playing hockey that would finally see me buying my first car at twenty years old and giving me the independence to be able to play five nights a week.

Over the years my passion for playing hockey has given me the solace of having many friendships that helped get me get through two major breakups a decade apart. My passion for playing hockey was a beacon of light through my darkest hours while fighting cancer and that same passion would see me back on the ice playing within a year of my diagnosis. My passion for playing hockey has given me the determination to never quit and always strive to improve to be a better person.

I take great pride that for the most part all of my hockey skills were self-taught. There was no league hockey or coaching growing up and there was absolutely no money for any equipment. I learned how to skate pretty late when I got my first pair of skates at nine years old. They were old hand me down tube skates with rusty blades and they were probably two sizes too small. I spent hours upon hours teaching myself how to skate up at Ranee Field. It was a long tedious process, but I never quit and when I fell down I always got right back up.

After a couple of winters I was skating just as good and just as fast as all the kids who played house league hockey. I was also a pretty fast backward skater and I developed quick stops just like the pros with a nice high snow spray. My feet always ached from my skates being too small, but I persisted and I never gave up. Although I always strived to be the best player at Ranee Field, I never was, but I was never the worst player either.

For me a new hockey stick was a luxury growing up and I usually got just one new stick before every season. Most seasons it was just the .88 cents bare wood, straight blade Hespeler stick from the Kresge store. However there was the one season I do remember that my mother bought my brother and me each a three dollar curved fiberglass wrapped Sher-Wood. All of my new sticks never lasted a full season and I would always have to resort to buying replacement plastic blades until my mother could afford to buy me a new one.

Every year from the early to mid-70’s road hockey was by far what I played the most when I was a kid. I organized weekly neighborhood road hockey games between September and May. I would always try to have at least eight to twelve friends show up on any given Saturday or Sunday afternoon. There was always a Dave Keon, Darryl Sittler, Borje Salming, Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Guy Lafleur, Bobby Hull and a Gordie Howe who showed up to play. It would always be a Ken Dryden, Jacques Plante, Tony Esposito, Gerry Cheevers or Bernie Parent who showed up to tend the goals.

We all had so much fun playing road hockey well into darkness without a care in the world. The innocence of all us kids just being kids and getting along with each other will always be my favourite cherished memory from my childhood.

Thank you hockey.

Over the following years my passion for playing hockey shifted to another level altogether. Gone were the old road hockey days, quickly to be replaced with the new ice hockey days at different arenas with different groups all over the city of Toronto. Once I bought my first car I was now playing hockey all over the place up to five times a week. Sprinkle in morning shinny sessions year round and it would be a safe bet that over the course of a year I had my skates on my feet just as many days as I didn’t.

I remember there was the one year that I would wake up at 5 am on Saturdays for a morning skate out in Scarborough. After a quick breakfast I would work all day at Collegiate Sports and then after work I went home to watch Hockey Night In Canada and the Leaf game. I was back out playing again at midnight for a couple hours and after another breakfast at the Sky Ranch Restaurant it would be close to 4 am before I went to bed. I loved every one of those wonderful Saturdays.

Thank you hockey.

In 1982 I got married and for a brief time my passion for playing hockey took a backseat to my passion for playing with my new wife, but I was still on the ice a couple times a week. Within a year of being married I organized my first men’s rec team up at Doublerink Arenas in the fall of 1983. I was twenty-three years old playing organized hockey for the first time in my life. It was fun times at the start, but eventually our win at all cost attitude caused dissention and hurt the team and I pulled the plug after just nine seasons.

I can remember every group and every team that I ever played with. I stopped playing rec league hockey in my thirties after the registration fees began to soar. It just wasn’t worth the money anymore playing three fifteen minute running time periods. If everyone showed up on any given night I was lucky if I played ten minutes of actual hockey. Weekly rotating game times always ran behind schedule with the last game not ending until well after midnight. The early games were always tough to get to after work while sitting in rush hour traffic.

Instead I now focused on playing a couple times a week with groups that were playing at a higher calibre and always had two good reliable goalies. We didn’t waste our time arguing with referees, fighting or penalties. After organizing ourselves into teams we dropped the puck and we just kept playing till the buzzer sounded. I have played with so many groups over the past forty years, but there is no doubt that my all-time favourite group was the Shanahan group on Saturday mornings.

I started playing with the group back in 2000 while going through a divorce. My teacher friend Al Rose who I was already playing with on Friday afternoons invited me out to play. It was exactly what I needed during the most difficult period up to that point in my life. I played with the Shanahan group for twenty years right up to when the COVID epidemic started and the rinks were all shut down. The very competitive group was always an even mix of both younger and older guys and everyone could play. As much fun as it was to play it was just as much fun sharing the pre and post-game dressing room banter with the guys.

When I moved up to Bracebridge back in 2004 I assumed that I would no longer be playing with the group. At first when I made the move I honestly didn’t know if it was going to be permanent. Afterall, I had been a city boy my whole life and moving to a small town would be a drastic change in itself. I didn’t want to give up my spot knowing that it might not be available should I ever return back to the city someday. So I decided to just keep playing with the Shanahan group for as long as I could.

Every Saturday during hockey season for the next fifteen years I would leave my house at 8:30 am and drive down to Toronto for our late morning skate. After the game I would then drive over to the dumpy diner and my usual clubhouse sandwich for lunch. I would then complete the 400 km round trip with a two hour drive back up to Bracebridge and I would always be home in time to watch the Leaf game on Hockey Night In Canada. I loved every one of those wonderful Saturdays.

Thank you hockey.

Even as I write this memory it still amazes me that I had the best attendance out of the whole group during the two decades I played. I would always play at least twenty of the twenty-four weekly skates each and every season. Even when I was fighting cancer back in 2014, getting back on the ice with the Shanahan group within a year is what got me through the most difficult period of my life. Seriously, I honestly believe that my passion for playing hockey was a huge factor in me beating cancer and being able to write this memory ten years later.

Thank you hockey.

I always promised myself that once the time came when my skills diminished to the point where I could no longer keep up I would quit the game. I never wanted to be that player who all the other guys wished would just quit. I have played with a few of those guys over the years who would not accept that they could no longer compete and their time to quit the game had come. Every player who no longer plays with the Shanahan group left on their own terms and no player that I can recall was ever not invited back. For many guys who lost the desire to compete it just wasn’t fun anymore. For others it was injuries or other family commitments like they were now taking their own sons to Saturday morning hockey practice. Once they all gave up their spots it was usually given to a younger, faster player who was waiting for his opportunity.

For me after the COVID epidemic shut the rinks down for two years I knew my time had come. Even before COVID father time had slowly crept up on me and my skating legs were so much heavier. The neuropathy from all my cancer treatments began to accelerate affecting my skating exactly like I was told by my oncologist that it eventually would. When the rinks all opened back up in the fall of 2021 I was no longer a part of the Shanahan group. Sadly I knew my time had come and I was replaced with a much younger, faster player. And just like the circle of life, the circle of hockey will continue with the Shanahan group like it always has and like it always will. I was happy to have been part of the circle for twenty years and I left with no regrets.

I do miss my passion for playing hockey, but even more I miss the dressing room banter every week with my hockey buddies. I miss taping my stick, blocking shots, keeping stats and my lunches at the dumpy diner with my friend Craigie Y. What I don’t miss are those 400 km winter weather, white knuckle round trip drives down to the city.

I do still have my skates and my hockey bag is always packed should I ever decide to play with a group up in Muskoka. I doubt that I ever will but you just never know and we do have a brand new arena opening up in Bracebridge in 2024. Maybe there will be a group in need of an aging Shanahan group alumni defenceman who blocks shots and perhaps my passion for playing hockey will be reignited again. What I do know for sure and without a shadow of doubt I can truly say that my passion for playing hockey has probably been one of the best if not the best part of my life.

Thank you hockey.