Lost the battle, won the game
As young parents, we suffered from the illusion of control. We knew with absolute certainty what paths our children would take, what sports they would play, what their personalities would be. Lord, we were foolish. But we knew … we knew our children would love whole grains and vegetables, our children would be readers, but most of all our children would NOT be rink rats.
In second grade, Chloe chipped away at our resolution through lots of begging. And, because no one can change a father’s mind like a daughter, Bill gave in. After all, Chloe liked a lot of other activities, so chances were she’d lose interest. She didn’t.
Quin watched his friend Zach play in a Mini-Mite game. Afterward, there was open ice. Quin, who had shown no interest in skating before, ran on skates for an hour. This tiny kid with a Marvin Martian helmet sprinted with a hilarious choppy stride, completely lacking any glide. Pure determination unfettered by skill propelled him around the ice. He was hooked; there was no avoiding it.
Then came the hat trick which led to our total defeat. When, at age 3, Phoebe insisted on playing hockey, we let her put on the equipment and placed her on the ice. We were playing along, confident that she would hate the pads and go to Learn to Skate where she belonged. Once again, we were wrong.
This 3-0 shut-out was the best loss we ever experienced. Did we spend a lot of time at the rink? Yes, but I met so many people and always looked forward to social time. Did we drive a bit? Sure, but the car rides were where our family had some of the best conversations. Were there disappointments? Of course, but working through them built grit and perspective. Besides, there are few childhood heartbreaks that a quick meal with teammates can’t solve. And the stories … It has been six years since I’ve had someone in PeeWee hockey, but hockey stories still make us chuckle.
As players aged up, the season culminated in Sectionals, then States. Quin and Chloe had made it to the State Championships, so Phoebe was hopeful. The week before Sectionals the boys on the team began discussing playoff hair. Would it be mullets, mohawks or jersey numbers shaved into their scalps? Phoebe and the other girl on the team looked at each other aghast. They wanted no part of any of these options. Finally, they decided to do their own thing: dye their hair bright red.
A friend shared a bottle of temporary dye, but it was a busy week, so we forgot. Bleary-eyed, at five am on the first game day, we glopped the red paste on Phoebe’s hair as she ate breakfast. Then Phoebe ran up to the bathroom for a quick shower. After throwing a winter cap on her still-wet hair, we drove to the tournament.
The first game was a victory. Bag slung over her shoulder, cap pulled over her hair, Phoebe looked happy and tired as she left the locker room. After buying the obligatory raffle tickets, we checked into the hotel room. As she showered, I aired out her hockey equipment. The dye had transferred to the inside of her helmet, and the foam padding was now red.
A muffled voice came from the bathroom. “Ah, mom. I think we have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Look!” Even though I could hear the tears in her voice before the door opened, I was in no way prepared for what was next.
Think of the infamous bathroom scene from Psycho, now imagine the aftermath in full color. The glaring light made the explosion of red dye seem more violent, more blood-like. And the scarlet rivulets everywhere: tub, shower walls, floor, and sink. I did not doubt that the hotel staff would think this was a crime scene.
“Didn’t you wash your hair before we left the house?”
“Not really, I just sort of rinsed it.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to be late for my game.”
Well, that explained the red helmet.
And so we cleaned the hotel bathroom, more successfully than I thought possible. Frustration changed to laughter as the murder scene disappeared.
The results? Her two-week temporary hair color was still visible six months later. Despite playing hard and winning most of their games, the team lost Sectionals. Phoebe’s disappointment was tempered when she won a 32-inch television in the raffle. And another hockey memory was made.
Sara-Placid Lakers’ Try Hockey for Free will be held from 10 a.m. to noon Saturday, Oct. 5 at the Saranac Lake Civic Center. Take your kid; they may love it. But here’s the bigger secret: You may love it, too.