Minor Hockey Week a celebration of the game
For me, the most exciting part of a minor hockey game doesn’t take place on the ice.
It happens in the arena lobby, where parents, siblings, friends and hockey fans gather minutes after the final buzzer sounds.
The smell of stale popcorn often swirls around the cement walls and the wooden floors. If it’s cold, like it has been lately in Edmonton, frigid air sneaks inside the doors leading to the parking lot.
Some folks leave the arena to warm up their vehicles. But they hurry back inside because they don’t want to miss that moment when their favourite player comes out from the dressing room.
That scene will play out in 23 local arenas starting Friday as the 51st edition of Quikcard Minor Hockey Week takes over for 10 days, with 771 games being played by 8,500 players on 539 teams.
It’s a friendly tournament in which playing the game is more important than winning.
Celebrating the game and the fun it provides is front and centre. But that doesn’t take away the magic minutes after the games.
Some players are quick to change and the first to meet their fans.
For others, the sanctuary of the dressing room and being with their teammates is just too good to give up. So they take their time removing their equipment and rehashing the game, often with regaled laughter.
When they leave their dressing rooms, players walk to meet their family and friends — the support they have radiates.
Some carry their equipment bags over their shoulders while others drag them on small wheels. First things first, though. If a player had a minor injury, everyone gathers around them to make sure everything is OK.
And then some of the greatest conversations in hockey begin.
How did you score that goal?
How did you make that pass?
How did you make that save?
How did you make that play?
How did you …?
Answers from players seem to resonate and have more profound meaning in arena lobbies.
Their excitement overflows from the game. Very often, they are told to wrap up their story because the rest of the family is waiting to get home.
Winners are congratulated, while members of the losing team are encouraged for the effort they put in.
Then the most important part of the post-game ritual begins.
Just as the Zamboni is driven out to clean the ice for the next game, players and their families make their way out to the parking lot.
They are still talking about the game they played. Perhaps by doing that, they are teaching themselves subconsciously about the game itself.
But they all have endless hope for their next game.
For many of the players aged seven to 17, that game is Friday evening.
Maybe the anticipation of it is half the fun.