CHRISTMAS IN BRACEBRIDGE - THE WIDE-EYED KID

IT WAS A CAREFREE TIME, WASN'T IT? I MADE THE MOST OF IT - I WAS EVERYWHERE A KID COULD GO - AND IT GOT ME INTO TROUBLE

I WAS A RINK RAT. I'D BE AT THE ARENA AT 7 A.M. ON A SATURDAY MORNING, AND IF I PLAYED MY CARDS RIGHT, I'D BE THERE TO JUST BEFORE SUPPER. TOWN LEAGUE HOCKEY, THIS TIME OF YEAR, OCCUPIED THE EARLY HOURS OF SATURDAY. THEN THERE WAS THE DISTINCT POSSIBILITY I'D BE CALLED TO TRAVEL WITH AN ALLSTAR TEAM, AS THE STARTING, BUT MOSTLY BACK-UP GOALIE. I WAS GOOD WITH THAT. THERE WASN'T MUCH GOING ON AT HOME, AND I LOVED HOCKEY IN ALL ITS SHAPES, SIZES AND CONFIGURATIONS. TRAVELLING WAS NEAT TOO. I COULD GET TWO GAMES ON A SATURDAY, OR MOST OF THE TIME, A GAME AND A PRACTICE. IN BETWEEN, I'D VOLUNTEER TO HELP MANAGER DOUG SMITH WITH ICE SHOVELLING DUTIES, WORKING WITH FRED "BING" CROSBY, WHO RAN THE BIG BARREL ON THE CART, USED FOR WATERING THE ICE…..IN THESE EARLY DAYS BEFORE THE TRACTOR, OUTFITTED FOR WATERING….AND THEN THE MODERN ICE MACHINE THAT SCRAPES AND WATERS IN ONE SMOOTH PASS. GEEZ, COME TO THINK OF IT, IT WAS THE 1960'S, AND WE WERE STILL USING THIS ANTIQUATED WATER-DRUM ON WHEELS. IT TOOK ABOUT FOUR LADS TO MAN THE SHOVELS, IN A ROW, TO CLEAN THE ICE IN A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF TIME. WE GOT A QUARTER TO SPEND AT THE SNACK BAR, ALSO RUN BY THE ARENA. IT BOUGHT US A HOT DOG AND THEN WE'D MOOCH A POP ON TOP OF THAT…..AS WE FOUND DOUG AN EASY TOUCH. GRUFF, LOUD AND SOMETIMES DOWNRIGHT NASTY, BUT HE COULDN'T LOOK A THIRSTY KID IN THE EYE, WITHOUT SLAPPING HIS FACE, JUST UNDER HIS TIPPED-UP FEDORA, AND RELENTING TO THE WEE ONES BEGGING IN FRONT OF THE COUNTER.

IF I PLAYED DODGE AND DART A BIT, HIDING IN THE BLEACHERS, OR IN AN EMPTY DRESSING ROOM, A YOUNG FELLOW COULD GET INTO PUBLIC SKATING FOR FREE, AND THEN WITH CLEVER POSITIONING, WIND UP STAYING FOR THE AFTERNOON ALLSTAR GAMES. THERE MIGHT BE THREE BACK TO BACK IF I WAS ON A REAL WINNING SPREE. AND I'D NEVER BE OUT A DIME…..UNLESS OF COURSE, MY MOTHER HAD SPOTTED ME MY WEEKLY ALLOWANCE. I WOULD HAVE BLOWN THOSE TWO BUCKS ON "THRILLS" GUM, A SWEET MARIE BAR, LICORICE, ANOTHER HOT DOG, AND A COLD POP OR FOUR. IN TOTAL I DID PRETTY GOOD ON THESE DAYS, BECAUSE WITH WHAT DOUG GAVE US OVER THE DAY FOR SHOVELLING, AND THE MONEY I FOUND ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR BENEATH THE SEATS IN THE ARENA, I'D PROBABLY BLOW ABOUT FIVE BUCKS ON PERSONAL TREATS. AS WELL, I'D COME HOME WITH AN ARMFUL OF BROKEN STICKS, PUCKS, TOQUES AND MITTS I FOUND, AND A LOT OF OTHER SALVAGE LEFT OVER AFTER HOCKEY GAMES.

I think there was more fun attached to being a rink rat, than a hockey player back then. I was always a reluctant goalie. I loved street hockey, and playing net was fun. In a real game, where my teammates called me "sieve" after every goal, there wasn't a lot of enjoyment being wet, cold, and usually on the losing team. This did improve a tad over the years, and I actually got to be pretty good at guarding the net. I was even selected to attend the Red Wing Hockey School, operated by NHL'ers Ron Ingram and hometown boy, Roger Crozier, by the mid 1960's, already an all-star goaltender in that golden six team league. Roger told me, shortly before he died (I worked for his youth charity, the Crozier Foundation), that coaches at that time, figured I was on the way to being the next NHL prospect. When he told me, I inhaled part of a bun, and nearly choked to death. I couldn't believe that I would have ever been considered worthy of this extra attention, because of my good play. I was always led to believe, it was an act of charity, for us poor kids that particular summer. And by all accounts we were poor. At least that's what the other Bracebridge players at the camp told me, and the other poor blokes that had also been invited….."Yea Currie, they wanted to help some poor kids out…..and here you are." Hey, I was good with that, because I never once, faced even a smidgeon of denial that my family didn't have the proverbial "pot" to pee in. I was just glad to get out of the heat and enjoy the summer ice. I had to re-write my biography when I found out that Roger actually thought I had some talent.

Point is, the arena was my second home. My home away from home. At Christmas, it was a place to celebrate and "fascinate", and I'll tell you how, in future blogs.