Old Time Hockey

In December of 2001 a fateful event took place at the Peaks Ice Arena in Provo Utah. Symantec had a family event where all the employees and their families could skate. My family and I were not there. Near the end of the event, from what I am told, some sticks and pucks were brought out and some courageous souls gave them a try. A seed had been planted on the fertile ice that day.

By this time I had been skating on the river trail and then the Provo skate park for a while. Some time in 1999 or 2000 I bought some cheap plastic in line skates from Walmart so I could go around the block with my girls who were on their own skates. I was just a tad overweight at the time and thought I could shed a few pounds, spend time with my girls and skate into a size 32. I didn't know how painful this desperately needed exercise could be. I eventually figured out I could loose all the weight I wanted just from skin and blood loss. I persevered and eventually got a bit less comical on the skates and upgraded to some decent roller blades. One fateful day, as we were skating on the river trail, I took a daring spin through the Provo skate park on Geneva road. This moment marked the official beginning of my mid-life crisis. I was hooked! For the next several years I spent as much time as possible with wheels or blades under my feet.

Fast forward to February of 2002. The Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City were in full swing. My co-workers and I became interested in the progress of the US Olympic hockey team. The company event the previous December had given us an idea of what a stick and puck are. My own experience had given me an appreciation for skating. The skill of passing, puck handling and shooting were amazing enough, but to see all that skill on top of the incredibly fast, powerful yet graceful skating that rivaled Brian Boytano yet retained, nay, defined masculinity, was amazing to watch. When the US played Canada for the gold medal, several awkward middle aged (and some young guns as well) fell in love with a whole new and previously unknown sport. Hockey was our new obsession.

As February turned into March, we eyed an empty parking lot two buildings over from our own in the American Fork business park. The empty Intel building, next to the freeway, had a perfect spot for street hockey. Some of us bought sticks and a ball and took our varied collection of comical skates and, without having a clue what we were doing, played hockey for the first time. I had my already famous "Purple Rocees" (as made famous by Marie Osmond) inline aggressive skates I used in skate parks. Lynn Spencer had his classic 4 wheeler leather boot skates circa 1954 with the rubber stopper on the front. Various Walmart specials graced the asphalt and we loved every minute of our lunch breaks. It wasn't long till some loose teeth made us realize we needed real hockey equipment.

As our enthusiasm for the game grew, we started to gear up. First came the safety gear. Shielded helmets, shin guards, gloves, elbow pads. I bought my first Stanley Cup. Then real roller hockey skates. Bauer lace-up skates with rocker chassis. We needed durable outdoor wheels. Faster bearings. Then came the graphite composite sticks and rubber pucks with teflon tabs for outdoor use. We made some goals from PVC and netting. We became obsessed and 6 to 10 of us played during our lunch break as often as we could. At one point I was playing 8 times a week. Back then classic skating had a drop in on Monday nights. We played 3-4 times a week during lunch at work. We had our league game once a week. The Peaks Ice Arena had two late night drop ins a week. We rented the arena at Dek hockey on Saturday mornings for team practice. Life was bliss, at least for me. My family was wondering what happened to me. Yes, I did have a mistress in mid-life and she smelled like and, indeed, was hockey. I was even shedding skinless, bloodless (mostly) pounds!

All of our gear was shiny and new and we all anticipated the UPS truck stopping by with some new toy for someone almost every day. I remember seeing an old Bauer skate with no wheels and a broken chassis tucked behind a ramp at the indoor skate park I frequented in Pleasant Grove. A relic abandoned by a guy we called 'Hockey Scott' from Philly who worked there. I wondered what it would be like to have played hockey long enough to have well used, old and broken gear laying around. As I was working around the house the other day if hit me that now,8 years later, my yard was a veritable hockey grave yard. I saw old hockey stuff all over the place. An old helmet in the driveway. Worn down and broken sticks on the Jeep top. 4 pair of old spider web filled skates in the shed. My first pair of padded red hockey pants lay buried under other neglected items. I play ice hockey exclusively now and it's been a long while since I've played any street hockey. As a result my street hockey gear, once shiny and new, obtained from the highly anticipated UPS truck, lies dusty, neglected, broken and unused. My current hockey equipment sat on the driveway in its gianormous goalie bag gracing the area with the fresh smell of hockey as it sat in the sun festering in the previous night's soaking of sweat. I honestly do love that smell, the smell of hockey.

Some old Bauer street hockey skates, my 'Purple Rocees' and you can barely see my old red hockey pants buried in there.

The current gear bag. I play goalie now and this has to be the biggest gear bag in all of sports

In the Fall of 2002 we created a Symantec roller hockey team and registered at Dek Hockey in Salt Lake. Since none of us had played an organized game before, we signed up for the lowest level league. We actually won the championship that season. Mostly because the other teams in the league were comprised of women and children. I scored my first goal against a 10 year old kid who couldn't see out of his smothering pads, but that's beside the point. We had all become rabid hockey fans in our middle age. We played several years together until Dek Hockey closed down. You may see, to this day, Stanley's Cup on the roof of the warehouse behind the 'City of South Salt Lake' water tank right next to I-15. I hurled it onto the roof as we left our last game in that venue. A token of my affection for several years of supporting my mid-life crisis and giving me some boyish memories late(er) in life. Seriously, I think it's still there.

This artful shot is like those iSpy books. See what hockey items you can find in this mess!

My non-goalie gear bag. This is ice hockey gear for when I', not playing goalie. Even it is pathetically neglected.

Another iSpy shot. I see 4 old hockey sticks in there.

I bought this helmet at Dek Hockey for a game. I had forgotten my own helmet that day.

Ah those times in the parking lot. Now this field of dreams is filled with... cars.

They called me 'Big Red'

Yeah, I dressed up for Halloween. Imagine the horror of those witches and goblins when the rain forced the party into the packed cultural hall. (See 'the smell of hockey' above... The horror, the horror)

The Orem Skate Park. Some very fun times there. I don't do skate parks anymore. A vertical ramp at 'The Tank' in San Antonio and a few run-ins with the concrete in Orem turned my knees into rice crispy treats. (Snap Crackle Pop) I never did do the big spine. It will taunt me as I drive by for the rest of my life.