Although it was only a regular season game, that February day in 1979, I played one of my most memorable hockey games. I was fifteen years old. Number fourteen, the centreman for the Muskrat Mauradiers, marked the game sheet under the assists and goals columns that day in Eganville, ON., as I did on many other days that season. I was in love with hockey! Evidence to show, forty-four years later, I still can see/recall that game—the puck leaving the ref’s hand and me placing the puck right on the tap of my left winger, Lenny’s stick for a one-timer blast. Lenny beat the goalie twice that game on faceoff draw one-timers. However, that 1978-79 season also was the beginning of me leaving hockey.
Wix Media Image
Playing sports invites us into a special world—a unique world of challenge, growth, fun and relationships. We commit to practicing to develop our skills, strength, speed, and endurance. The game repeatedly welcomes us—clear the score and start anew. I was sad about leaving hockey; I was sure I would miss the speed, skill, atmosphere, and teamwork required to be a successful team. I played hockey with the same club from age seven to age 15. In the first couple of years, our team was terrible. Seriously! We lost all our games in the first year—one team beat us 18 to one! But we practiced and kept returning to the game. And we got better, a lot better. In that 1978-79 season, we beat that team who had pummelled us when I was seven years old.
In my 1978-79 hockey season, the violence in our league escalated. (Recall that our club team’s name was the Mauradiers, reflecting the violent culture of the sport.) As a fast and skilled player, I became a target for much bigger players on opposing teams. The fun began to drain away, and by 1980, I left hockey.
After leaving hockey, I threw myself into running, and it has been my lifelong sport. There was—and nearly five decades on—a lot to explore in the sport and learn about myself. In contrast to the “head-hunting” I left behind at the hockey arena, running friendships with competitors were frequent. Running presented an expanding universe of new challenges, travel, teams, new friendships and being supported by caring coaches. Running surely has had its hard times and setbacks, but there has always been a door left open and a place to feel I belonged and have worth. That is the mark of a kind sports culture. Thanks to all the coaches and officials whose kindness allows us all to play.
(Oh. That game in Eganville, I remember so clearly, my faceoff winning percentage was 100%. I was like Bobby Clarke!)
Me on club photo night 1978
END
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Kevin Shields
Master of Coaching, University of Alberta
BEd, Nipissing University
BSc (Kinesiology), University of Waterloo
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