My Favorite Hockey Goalie: My Son

I remember the day, back when he was 5 years old, I knelt before him, pulling the laces of his roller blades tight, walking him to the door that opened onto the rink, giving him a slight shove and watching him glide onto the hardwood floor. Hesitant steps gave way to graceful glides and then more forceful strides. I had no image in my mind of him being the next Bobby Orr or long before that the great "Rocket" Richard. He wanted to try this game called hockey. I just wanted him to have fun. But the game is never just a game; it becomes part and parcel of your life. I often hear that golf is addicting, but most golfers have never played hockey. They have never taken a "biscuit to the noggin."

He was good at the game, the leading scorer on the team. There were no goalies in the regular season, just three orange highway cones placed in front of the net. But he found ways to put the biscuit in the basket. His team advanced to the championship game and the rule was then that each team had to place a player in goal - a goalie without the protection of suitable padding. He could have stayed in the limelight playing "out" as we called it, skating across the floor, scoring goals, rallying his team onto victory. But that just wasn't his style. He volunteered to be placed in the net without the protection of suitable protective padding and despite the fact that the opposing team had a sniper who had been on skates, working on his slap shot in his basement since he was three. He brought home a trophy after the game- 1st place.

He joined a few leagues along the way. Under/6, Under/8 and played center, wing or defense until one day at the end of season hockey party his team played a little scrimmage game and a goalie was needed to make things even. He put on the pads for the first time. He played with the intensity of a beaver gnawing at a giant oak tree. I looked at him after the end of the session and as our eyes met he knew and I knew, he was hooked.

I never pushed him as some fathers do trying to live their lives over again in their son's accomplishments. I never thought to force him to give up all else to make it to the NHL or some prestigious college with a first-rate hockey program. That would be for him to decide if he wanted it bad enough. But I did offer him support, encouragement, and a few pointers on playing the position. I had played goalie on the ice covered ball fields of the neighborhood park in my younger days in Chicago without the protection of suitable padding and took a few "biscuits to the noggin" along the way. But I wanted him to play for him and not for me.

Was he good along the way? Was he ever. In one house he played he held the record for most shutouts by a goalie 8/under. Coaches would line up on Saturday morning begging him to play for their team when their own goalies couldn't make it. I watched him play back to back to back to back games. Teams would take him along to tournaments to play goal for them relegating their own goalie to another position. House managers often called him when a team of novices were going to enter a league for the season entreating him to play with the beginners to even the odds. Oh yes, I have witnessed blood baths and slaughters in these cases. 10-0, 12-0 games where he took 50-60 shots on goal as the defense watched helplessly as the opponents skated around or through them.

But he never lost his composure. He dealt with the adversity and let it pass.

He recently took to the natural form of hockey - ice - at the age of 19. The first game ended in disaster as if a platoon of hungry U.S. Marines ambushed a pack of Cub Scouts on a field trip to the park. He pushed the loss aside and returned tenaciously in the next game to dazzle and delight the crowd with such prowess that I would have to rate this as his most superb performance ever. EVER.

He has grown into a remarkable, responsible young man. Even when I was lacing up his skates, way back when, he had to look up at me. Now I look up to him in more ways than one. While he may never reach the level of Jacques Plante or Glenn Hall of my era or Dominik Hasek and Patrick Roy of his, he is the #1 star of the game in my program. Donald, you have made me proud of you.