arena: Browse The Strips
Tuesday, February 21, 1995
Saturday, July 15, 1995
Tuesday, March 26, 2002
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Sunday, February 4, 2007
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Lynn's Comments: Watching junior hockey was fun. These little players went as fast as they could with as much determination and energy as an NHL champ, undeterred by their wobbly legs and restricting gear. Close to the ice, they fell and landed in furious heaps, unscathed and ready to go for a goal. All around us, parents who were bent on winning shouted advice and admonishments in a roar that would wake the dead. The rink was a frigid metal building. The small row of heating elements above the bleachers did little more than keep us from freezing to our seats, but the energy kept us cheering for all the kids. Being a team would have to wait until they could manage to get from one end of the rink to the other without falling or forgetting what position they were meant to play. This is when hockey was fun and the kids came home exhausted and filled with pride for having done their very best.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Lynn's Comments: The boys' locker room at the arena was always a frenzy of small, eager players trying to do as much as they could by themselves. Someone, however, always needed help with something! It was "sissy" to have Mom there, tying laces and securing helmets. One perhaps was cool enough to be part of the process, but in general, it was a "no-mom zone".
The men who coached junior hockey were such patient, caring and hard working guys. Even the ones who were not fathers yet had what it takes to be great role models to a busy group of small boys all needing approval, security and support. When the coach tied laces he did it in a way that said "Anything you need, man, just let me know!" There was nothing to be ashamed of in needing help with something, no matter how small. These kind gestures made a big impression and I'm grateful to this day for the people who take on the challenge of coaching junior hockey!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Lynn's Comments: The parents who screamed at their kids (as if, by merely making noise, they could influence a shot or even the outcome of a game) made our lives miserable. Some of these folks we knew. They were shopkeepers, community leaders, patients and acquaintances in town - so it was impossible to say anything harsh to them for fear of starting an incident in front of everyone else. These people became entirely different when they watched a game. It was as if this was their own private event onto which they projected everything from personal prowess to family pride. They shouted insults at their children, at other people's' children, at the coaches and at each other. And, for what?! I could never figure it out. In the end, the result was a sad and demoralized child and many frustrated parents. Rules of good sportsmanship aren't just for the players. They're for the audience as well!
Friday, March 4, 2011
Lynn's Comments: No matter how fast he was skating or how complex the play, Aaron knew where I was in the stands. He knew I'd be there watching everything he did - at least I tried to watch it all. I was one of a tight knit group of hockey moms who always sat in the same place. We always wore the same parkas; a huddled little throng, trying to keep warm with blankets, body heat and bad arena coffee. In Lynn Lake, your parka was a sort of signature. Like waddling mounds of fabric huffing wads of steam out the top, we were part of the northern landscape. My parka was blue with a wolf fur hood and a decorative band of green around the bottom. My friend Nancy had a green parka; June's was magenta. You could tell who was who by the way they walked and what they wore. Those parkas kept us from freezing to the bleachers as we dutifully watched our boys skate their hearts out - for the team and for us. I never looked forward to the 6 am practices, but I'll always be glad I was there.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Lynn's Comments: Nobody likes to lose. On the days when Aaron and his mates were smarting from a lost game, we'd commiserate with hot chocolate and a talk about "next time". There was always another game to look forward to and more reason to put your heart into practice. "After all," we'd say, "if you won every time, it wouldn't be fun anymore! The great thing about competition is the fact that only one team can win and the other must congratulate them honestly. Then, you work hard to see if you can outsmart and out skate them the next time. Losing is an opportunity! You get to learn about generosity, good sportsmanship and honor."
The lecture about winning and losing is pretty much the same everywhere and it applies to every sport and if you're lucky, your child will listen, understand and be comforted. Then, once the hugs and the words of consolation are done... you'll tuck them into bed with a hug and tell them you're proud of them for doing their very best. As you kiss them good night, you know that you've said the right thing at the right time....even though they cry out miserably as you leave them: "But, Mom!!! IT'S NO FAIR!!!"
Monday, January 9, 2012
Lynn's Comments: The worst thing about having a kid in hockey is the gear. The odd hours of practice, the driving and the butt-numbing seats in the stands were a pleasure compared to the fitting, loading, dressing and stench of the required gear. Hockey moms go unappreciated until a kid grows up and becomes a hockey parent themselves!
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Lynn's Comments: After all the hockey I've watched, after all of the news clips and interviews and hockey related trivia I've had to endure ...I still don't really understand the rules. A pile up like this, to me, might just as well be part of the game. How un-Canadian!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Lynn's Comments: Being part of a team meant a lot to Aaron. He loved the camaraderie, the excitement and getting together with all the participants after a game. The kids felt a real kinship. Being in "uniform" gave them status and worth. It was important, therefore, to teach them that no matter how padded and colourful, the uniform does not make the man!
We had to make sure the kids maintained their good manners, even though they imagined themselves hitting the big leagues, then hitting the bars, and hitting each other! The contrast between the confident team player and the immature little boy was enormous--it was hard not to "parent" a youngster who was trying so hard to be a man.
We had to make sure the kids maintained their good manners, even though they imagined themselves hitting the big leagues, then hitting the bars, and hitting each other! The contrast between the confident team player and the immature little boy was enormous--it was hard not to "parent" a youngster who was trying so hard to be a man.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Lynn's Comments: The Lynn Lake arena had a row of heat lamps along the ceiling, but the warmth dissipated long before it reached the bleachers. Parents who sat through hours of practice and many games shivered miserably despite blankets, parkas and warm winter gloves. We were grateful for rotgut coffee and the occasional shouting match, which kept us pliable.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Boys really can smell terrible. A girls' locker room might have its ambient whiff, but a room full of young male hockey players can be downright asphyxiating. When it was decided that moms were no longer required for skate tie-ups and supportive hugs, women rejoiced all over town. The news made rink-side hot dogs and all-day coffee taste fine. It was, let me put it this way, "A breath of fresh air!"
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Lynn's Comments: One of the best ideas ever was the annual hockey exchange. As our kids grew out of their skates and uniforms, we gladly exchanged them for larger gear--used and still useable. Parents came to the Anglican United Church basement with everything that didn't fit and the bargaining began. This event made it possible for many of our kids to remain in the game. For a lot of families, hockey was just unaffordable.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Lynn's Comments: The strips I did on skating and hockey moms always struck a chord. Parents who spend a good part of their time sitting on hard benches in cold arenas while their offspring scramble over the ice should be given their own special place in heaven. It will be warm, have comfortable seating and the coffee will not taste like socks.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Lynn's Comments: This was another home truth I shared with my skate-mom audience. After hours of watching from the bleachers, you really do think you have good advice to give. Sadly, if you don't skate, your offspring will not be listening to anything you say--even though they OWE you the courtesy of a nod and a thank-you.
Friday, November 7, 2014
Lynn's Comments: In North Bay, we had access to some great sports facilities, so the kids were soon skating, swimming, and playing hockey. My car was on the road constantly--ferrying them to the rink or the "Y," or wherever the game was to be, and I had a rule: four trips only. I would only drive into town four times in a day. This was met with some confusion, as I had counted each way, there and back, as separate trips! The rule was then changed to eight trips. AAAUGH!
Friday February 17, 2017
Lynn's Comments: As a hockey mom, I saw some interesting stuff. Parents who dropped off their kids and left never knew how important it was for those young players to see supporters in the stands. Some of the parents who did attend were so determined to see their kid be a star that they also ruined a great game. Kids were shouted at and bullied from the stands, and volunteer coaches were criticized. I'm hoping things have changed since I was a hockey mom.
Saturday February 18, 2017
Sunday February 19, 2017
Lynn's Comments: I didn't learn to skate until I was over 35! What gave me the courage to try was a really good pair of skates and the lure of a rink made by the neighbours on Trout Lake outside of North Bay, Ontario. It was one of those perfect days. The ice was thick and the snow was fresh. Just a few passes of the snow blower and a small private rink was cleared. The kids both had skates that still fit, and my mom-in-law had borrowed skates for the rest of us. She’d made hot chocolate in a big thermos and the Harrisons, whose house we were visiting, had built a fire in the pit down by the dock.
For the first time since I was a kid, I strapped on skates (dull rentals) and shoved off from the snow bank. To my surprise, I discovered the bite of a sharp blade and was actually scraping my way forward. That’s it. I never went again, past those surprising few turns around the ice, but it was enough to let me know how it’s done and why some people become champion skaters. You just have to experience this exhilaration when you're young!
For the first time since I was a kid, I strapped on skates (dull rentals) and shoved off from the snow bank. To my surprise, I discovered the bite of a sharp blade and was actually scraping my way forward. That’s it. I never went again, past those surprising few turns around the ice, but it was enough to let me know how it’s done and why some people become champion skaters. You just have to experience this exhilaration when you're young!
Monday February 20, 2017
Sunday March 5, 2017
Lynn's Comments: Man, I was happy with this punch line. Now and then a great one comes along, and when it does, you kinda look around to thank the spirit that handed it to you. I rather think the line came from a famous player–someone who played hard but played fair. I wonder who it was.
Wednesday March 29, 2017
Thursday March 30, 2017
Lynn's Comments: Yeah, I can still feel my cheeks sting with embarrassment.
Friday March 31, 2017
