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Standard reporter skates with the pros at Hockey Night in St. Catharines
[Grant LaFleche, St. Catharines Standard]
It was supposed to be a joke. I swear.
That's why midway through a third period shift that never seemed to end, I could only think, 'Me and my big mouth.'
See, back in May I was assigned to cover a press conference at Jack Gatecliff Arena. Local MP Rick Dykstra and former National Hockey League player Steve Ludzik announced a charity hockey game to support the United Way. Politicians and local businesspeople would lace up skates with current and former NHLers and junior hockey players to raise money.
Hockey Night in St. Catharines, as it was called, would mirror other events in Canada that were big hits.
"Do you still play hockey?," Dykstra asked me after the press conference.
"Nah," says I. "Haven't played in years. Just boxing for me these days."
Then — and here is where my mouth got me in trouble — I said: "But if you need a goon, call me and I'll be your muscle."
I laughed. Rick laughed.
"You're on the team," he said. I laughed again. He didn't.
I didn't think anything of it. I made a joke, and that was it.
Or so I thought.
Two weeks ago, I got a call from Frances Hallworth, executive director of the local United Way, who told me she was so pleased I would be part of the charity event by playing in the game! A quick call to Rick's gal Friday, Karen Moncur, confirmed it. I'd been drafted.
I hadn't played hockey since I was 20. I hadn't even been on skates in more than a decade. The word 'gulp' doesn't cover it.
But since I couldn't say no to the United Way, I hit the ice twice before Friday night's game and hoped for the best.
The first time was rather like watching a baby deer trying to walk. Fell once. Still have the bruises on my elbows.
And my knee. Make that knees. Still, after that I at least felt secure enough to skate for a game.
Besides, I thought, how much ice time would I actually get? People were coming to see the pros, not us Joes.
Turns out hockey was much harder work than I remember. Boxing seems easier. Playing with pros — even retired pros — is a bit like trying to jam with the Beatles.
You're just out of your league. To even claim I could play at anything remotely close to their level be like a brick claiming to be Fred Astaire.
These guys were going, at best, half speed. And no body checking.
Nevertheless, it was like watching a hyperactive pinball game that was going on around you.
Oh, and they are kinda large. Take my teammate Andrew Peters, who played last season with the New Jersey Devils. The boy has hands as big as my head. I'd need a ladder to reach his nose.
I imagine getting corked by him on the ice would be like getting hit by a dump truck dropped on you from orbit. Nice guy. Huge, though. But nice. But also huge.
I held my own for the most part — save for the penalty shot I had to make, armed with a five-inch-long plastic stick and a giant foam puck. Didn't score.
Later, former NHL ref Ron Hoggarth, the man with the whistle Friday night, told me Dykstra suggested I might be prefect for the gag.
Thanks, Rick.
In the end, what's most important is that $103,000 was raised to support the United Way — a big deal in a town still recovering from the recession. So my helmet goes off to you, St. Catharines.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a hot bath waiting with my name on it.
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