05/03/2024
“Cushions, Curbs and Stanley Cups: A Tribute to Road Hockey Memories"
Ah, the timeless rivalry between Toronto and Boston always brings back a flood of memories. Let me take you on a nostalgic journey back to the streets of Whitby, Ontario, where road hockey reigned supreme.
As winter bid farewell and the ice melted away, signaling the end of our skating escapades, the arrival of spring heralded a new chapter: road hockey season. Every neighborhood street transformed into hallowed grounds—Maple Leaf Gardens or Le Forum de Montréal reincarnated. Kids poured out from every corner, sticks clutched eagerly, ready to partake in the age-old tradition.
With a toss of sticks into a haphazard pile and blindfolded eyes, teams were chosen amid laughter and banter. And then, the magic commenced. Curbs became makeshift boards, and our adoring siblings or crushes became the spirited spectators, cheering us on from the sidelines.
Dressed in our cherished jerseys, we emulated our hockey heroes with fervor. Bob Cole's voice echoed in our minds as we orchestrated plays reminiscent of the greats. Hawerchuk to Lemieux, Lemieux to Gretzky, Gretzky back to Lemieux… the thrill of the game pulsed through our veins as we maneuvered and weaved, aiming for the elusive top shelf of a net riddled with holes. And when a car came around the corner, interrupting our game, we'd all yell… "Car!", only to resume with a triumphant shout of "Game ON!" once it passed.
I recall a particular moment when my sister and I decided to up the ante. Determined to protect her from my ruthless shots, I fashioned makeshift goalie pads out of my mum’s sofa cushions fashioning them into protective gear with makeshift straps (laces from our shoes). It was a stroke of genius—until Mum came home...
But road hockey was more than just a game; it was a tapestry of connections, imagination, camaraderie, competition, and love woven together on the asphalt, mere steps from our homes. Though perhaps I'm a tad disillusioned now, I hold onto the hope that the younger generation and parents alike will reclaim the streets, forging their own golden memories and unforgettable moments.
And always remember, somewhere out there, a cushion is waiting to be transformed into a goalie pad, ready to protect dreams and memories yet to be made. And in the words of our late Bob Cole on the eve of yet another game 7 between Toronto and Boston… OHHH BABY!
.... again
