Braveheart on Ice

I was an athlete. The burning in my quads last night tells me I'm not so much any more. I met my wife and son last night for his first skate on ice...ever. During my drive to the rink I had the nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach I used to get before basketball games, the sinking feeling of organized sport.

I am enormously proud of my son today. He did something last night I know for a fact I would never have done at his age. And to think, it almost wasn't...

When I met my wife and son in the parking lot he was all smiles. He had a brand new black Braun helmet. He was going to be the "guy in the goal who wears the boots." We entered the building and got his nametag. No problem. We walked through the doors to the rink he would be skating on. It was cold outside, but it was colder still near that enormous sheet of ice. I played sports on hardwood, asphalt, dirt and grass. Except for the occasional, seasonal, recreational skate I've never really spent much time on ice. Lake Erie hardened my bones for the element but I never played hockey. My son stepped up onto one of the benches and looked through the glass. He says "I just want to watch." Pretty soon he was a heap beside a pillar in the corner of the building. A concerned mom heading for the door asked me, "Is he yours?" No. I just generally corner weeping children in crowded places. All I said was "Yes." I got down on a knee. All right Dad, Go! He cowered and inched away from me as if he'd been in isolation. Several questions and speeches later we were heading out the door. I remember getting darn near perfect grades in Oral Communications so it had nothing to do with my oratory I swear.  

We buckled him into the seat of my wife's car. Wife's orders, I walked back into the building to see if we could get a refund. I stood in line. I wasn't the least bit upset. I figured at the very least I could get the money transferred and I could get some lessons. I was trying to do the same thing with ice that you're supposed to do with lemons. Yes, I have strong desire to learn how to do a hockey stop! Why? Because how cool is that! Still standing in line I'm trying to not hang my head too doggedly. It had nothing to do with my son changing his mind. I'm just an awkward person sometimes and I was going over the script in my mind. I was next with one last person behind me. I turned around and told the guy to go ahead in front of me. I had "kind of an extended question." I stepped back and who steps in the door? None other than Liii---aaaaaa----mmmm King! My wife just shrugged her shoulders with a smile.

He was ready. He was ready to try. "Sir, can I help you?" "Oh, could I get on the ice with my son? At least for today?" "Yeah, sure, no problem." We laced up our skates and headed to our instruction area. Liam looked a little like a giraffe that has just been born, but soon we had walked half way around the rink and his steps grew surer. Those of you who read yesterday's post will be as heartened as I was when the instructor says "Okay, the first thing we are going to do is learn how to fall." Brilliant! And, boy, were the kids good at it. "The second thing we are going to learn is how to get back up." Kids not so good at it, at least not at first. Liam was falling and smiling (and eating the shavings). By the end of the instruction time he was standing back up on ice all on his own. He was taking steps on ice and moving forward without falling. At the very end there was time for free skate. The Mites on Ice are one of my favorite things about being at a Flyers game so this was great. They are so stinkin' small and cute and blazing! Liam would not leave the ice. He was one of the last kids off. He wore his helmet the rest of the night and I had to pry it off his head before he went to school today. He wanted to go back tonight. Forget tonight. He wanted to go back this morning. I told his teacher "He had his first skating lesson so he might mention something about hockey." My son hears everything. He says "At first I was a little bit scared, but then I grew brave." I kissed his head and walked out the door. My son had taught me something about walking through doors. It's okay to be a little bit scared at first because then you grow brave just by turning around.