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The good 'ol hockey game

Ok so I'm not a sports fan.  Never was, ever.  Never will be. Except when my son plays.  Then I'm in.  :-) He plays house league hockey, and though he's tried out for the Select team every year and hasn't made it, he loves it, loves it, loves it...and that's all that matters to me.  I'm definitely not that die-hard, push 'em/work 'em/kick-their-ass, shouting mother in the stands (as you may have guessed after reading the first line in this entry), but I try to make sure I'm there for every game and I have genuinely enjoyed watching him improve and hone his skills over the years.  Between the tournaments and skills competitions over the years, he's got quite the collection of trophies and medals now that he's the ripe old age of ten.  Some are at my house and some at his dad's, so he marvelled to me after the recent Christmas tournament, "imagine how many I'd have if I kept them all at one house!"  Indeed. His dad has always coached or been assistant coach for Ryan's team, which is great because it's definitely something they can share together.  I cannot believe how much hockey trivia Ryan already has stored and filed away in his brain, and how much he knows and can intelligently talk about the game and all the players.  As much as he likes the game, he just never watches hockey when he's here at my house; only at his dad's.  Maybe it's the camaraderie he likes most, the sitting-down-with-his-dad-watching-the-game-together feeling.  And I'm sure the animation is appealing too.  Watching his dad, that is.  No offense and I say this good-naturedly, but one of the main things I am SO relieved not to have to live with anymore since we divorced eons ago, is watching that guy lose his MIND watching a hockey game on TV.  I'm talking jumping out of the chair, yelling at the players or the refs when the mood struck him.  Definitely also not my "thing".  But I'm sure it's more entertaining to watch a hockey game with him than it is with me.  I've tried, for Ryan's sake, to sit down and watch a game with him on TV, but I'm so completely disinterested I can only fake it for about twenty minutes, tops, before I have to crack out a magazine or book or watch paint dry to entertain myself. But alas, if Ryan is on the ice, that's a different story.  I bring my blanket and have no shame in bundling up like I'm going out to shovel during a blazing blizzard, and I do my proud motherly duty.  It's truly fantastic to watch Ryan make a great play, or score a great goal...not because I'm the least bit concerned with the outcome of the game, but because I know how great it makes him feel.  And that's what confidence is made of; a bunch of little (and sometimes big) successes, over and over.  It's also what life is made of:  fun.  Whatever that means to you. I'll tell you what's NOT fun.  Setting my alarm clock for 6am on a Saturday morning for tomorrow's 7am practice.  Bah humbug.   But it's a practice, not a game, so lucky for me that my ex is the coach; he HAS to go, so when he picks Ryan up on the way to the arena and I see him safely out the door, guess where I'm going back to?  :-) Oh, the good 'ol hockey game....

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©2023 by Kelly Wagner

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