Watching hockey

For the past few weeks, my job has been taking a lot out of me. Last night, after dinner, homework and dishes, I collapsed onto the couch.

I told my son there was a hockey game on TV and waited for the groan and the begging to watch one of his shows instead. But, to my surprise, he seemed excited to watch the game and plunked himself down on the couch, tucked right under my arm, snug up against me.

He realized he had forgotten to bring snacks to the couch and ran to the kitchen, returning with a bag of something that he wanted to share with me. After a few minutes, he asked, “Daddy, when can we go to a hockey game, just you and me?” He said he wanted to buy a “little dude,” like the one I have, motioning toward a miniature Toronto Maple Leaf figurine holding the Stanley Cup. I’ve owned the little dude for a few years, but can’t remember where it came from. My son must assume that I bought it at a hockey game.

He asked me if they sell nachos at hockey games because he really loves nachos. His eyes lit up when I told him that they did and again, he repeated his love for nachos.

Sitting there with my son reminded me so much of growing up and looking forward to Saturday nights when my whole family would sit on the couch and watch hockey games.

During the game, my mom would sneak away to make big bowls of butter popcorn with her noisy air popper that barely filled the first bowl, but produced so much by the third and fourth that no bowl could contain it.

We didn’t have a lot of sugar growing up, but my mom allowed us to have soft drinks while we watched hockey, usually ginger ale and sometimes we even had scoops of ice cream in our cup to make “floats.”

We asked my dad if he could take us to games and some of my favourite childhood memories are of Friday nights spent at the old arena with my family, watching our junior hockey stars.

Our Saturday night game always involved the Toronto Maple Leafs, teams that were never very good, sometimes even among the worst teams in the league. But, to have a bowl of hot popcorn, a ginger ale, and to lie on the couch, surrounded by my family while we watched the game, it was impossible not to become a fan of Saturday nights and the Maple Leafs.

With my son beside me, I realized that taking him to a hockey game is one of those special moments for us both that simply has to come true. I’m going to look into Kitchener Rangers tickets for a Friday night, sometime soon. We’ll share an order of nachos and see if they sell little dudes holding the Stanley Cup.

Moments and memories like this are part of my 500 words.