As a nine-year-old immigrant to Canada, I wanted to become as Canadian as possible, as quickly as possible. It started with hockey. I learned to skate on the outdoor rink down the street, and joined organized hockey at the age of ten. I was huge for my age and my lack of skating ability meant that I stood out like a sore thumb on the ice.
At first, hockey was not kind to me. I remember the humiliation of being picked last out of about 300 kids when the coaches selected their teams for the mosquito division of Sept Iles minor hockey. But I persevered and played the game for 50 years until Covid hit in the winter of 2019-20.
I’ve never been the greatest player, but the game has given me some great fun, great experiences and great friendships.
The. night we played with the Habs.
Here’s a CBC story I wrote several years ago about my love of the game and how it kickstarted my career in journalism.
Where the game began
For many of us, hockey began outside. There’s nothing like a game of shinny on a pond or an outdoor rink. For several years, I painstakingly maintained a rink in my backyard in central St. John’s. No mean feat in the erratic east coast winter.
A boy and his dad
Last winter I came upon this scene near Conception Harbour, a boy and his dad playing hockey on the pond outside their house. I asked him if he’d mind me snapping a few photos.
As the Crowe flies 
Look forward to your continued tales…..remember well and fondly the backyard rink. Many visits as you pondered the slope, the weather, the back and forth misting technique, the lost pucks all great memories for our family. I miss our visits bud….Happy New year!
Tony
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Thanks Tony.
Would love to catch up, once the Covid madness is done.
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