WHAT THE RINK RATS REALLY MEANT, ABOVE AND BEYOND THE RECREATIONAL OPPORTUNITY, AND PLAYING FOR MEDIA ATTENTION
IN THE EARLY GOING, WE BECAME BEST FRIENDS - BUT WE CERTAINLY DIDN'T HAVE MUCH IN COMMON EXCEPT THE NEED FOR WEEKLY SHINNY
The best hockey mentor I ever had, was a minor league coach, and by heritage, and oldtime Muskoka, who used to march us out of the dressing room, onto the ice for our weekly practice session, and then, before setting his skate blade on the ice, would toss out a puck, and watch a game of shinny suddenly break out. We wound up picking sides while chasing the puck. It's hard to imagine this today, where I'm sure practices are much more strictly organized, with emphasis on skill development. Elroy Terry figured that we would soon develop skills, if that is, we wanted to move on in hockey. He created an enjoyable on-ice relationship with all us kids, who so greatly enjoyed the opportunity to chase a puck up and down the ice, without a coach constantly blowing the whistle, and yelling at players about their performance shortfalls. The only time Elroy ever yelled at us, was to get us off the ice at the end of the hour practice. Some of those kids went on to play at much higher levels of hockey, and all of them I've talked with, had the same praise for Elroy's old fashioned coaching strategy, that came at no serious consequence of skill development. I think we played harder for him than any of our other coaches, who insisted on drills and speed skating instruction before we got to play shinny. It was, believe it or not, a philosophy that carried over to my years with the Rink Rat hockey club, and onward to the establishment of the Lovable Losers Hockey Tournament. I knew how having fun, and freedom in hockey, could inspire a hell of a fine team, if only in attitude. In other words, it didn't make us the best team, but we never got mad about losing. We just wanted to play, and like Elroy Terry's coaching philosophy, skills can just as easily come from chasing the puck, and trying to put it into the opponent's net, as being exhausted by repetitive drills screamed out over the ice by a humorless coach. Elroy gave us the basics of good hockey play, without any hacking, cross-checking, tripping, or spearing, and then gave us the puck to make it all come together. Elroy Terry, although few would know this, was embedded in our Rink Rat constitution, as loose and thin as it was. I know so, because I drafted up the constitution with fellow Herald-Gazette staffer, Brant Scott. We knew what we wanted long before we hit the ice, and brought in players who, we believed, felt and played in this old-time tradition, of fundamental, no frills "have a good time boys," shinny. We only got mildly serious, when we were playing an exhibition game at home, or on the road.
After our rental hour, if you can believe it, we would hit the Albion Hotel on Main Street, for a few cool pops before bed, and to unwind from the big game. I was a big drinker back in those days, but I only lived a block up Manitoba Street, so I could always walk home after consuming several beers, and pick up my car the next morning. We just gathered there because it was, back then, a happening sort of place, and a lot of other of our hockey mates would be down there ahead of us, filling the air with stories of big plays and winning games. It was a hockey friendly kind of place. I think about all the hot stove league get-togethers we had there, from October to April, bragging about our hockey prowess. I'm especially nostalgic when I drive along Main Street today, in Bracebridge, and see the tarp covering the brick, that was once the facing of the old watering hole, the Albion Hotel.
There were many more post hockey-hour get-togethers up at my apartment, above the Cheese Emporium, across from Memorial Park, on Manitoba Street, in the former home of former Muskoka M.P., and Muskoka 122nd Battalion Captain, Dr. Peter McGibbon. It was a small one bedroom apartment, but we could fit most of the Rink Rat team inside, and did on numerous occasions, keeping my neighbor up half the night with our loud hockey talks. We liked to replay hockey history, but the topics up for discussion, were wildly diverse every time we met; and sometimes the conversation got a little off-track, due to the celebratory liquid being consumed. I woke up one morning, to find that my Christmas present, which was a nice Otter Tail paddle, made specially for me by Dave Mahon Jr., of Grassmere Paddles, was in two pieces, protruding from the still illuminated evergreen in the corner of the room. I couldn't remember going canoeing that night, but something wild happened to break that sturdy paddle in two. The Rink Rats could get rowdy under certain circumstances, such as when attending the annual Balsam Chutes Invitational Golf Tournament, run by Rink Rat team-mate Alistair Taylor, and held at Al Pratt's Bracebridge Golf Club. We were all like Happy Gilmores out there, except Harold Wright, another Rink Rat, who had, at one time, been a junior golf pro in Manitoba. To even out the skill level, we used to play practical jokes on him, so he'd flub shots, and be more like the rest of us.
Then there was the time, when we went north to fish, near Parry Sound, as pretty much a Rink Rat squad, and became one of the first groups in the lodge's history, to be barred for life (as a group). It seems we were better behaved with skates, a stick and a puck, more so than a boat and fishing gear. Oh yes, and the role beverages played in the unfortunate incident. The only thing I remember, was waking up early in that first morning in camp, and seeing Al Taylor and Gary Ford fishing from their little boat, about fifty feet off shore. I watched Gary catch the first fish of the trip, take it off his hook, holding it up for us on shore to admire, and then tossed it back into the lake. Unfortunately, Al Taylor's face was in the way, and what a terrible slapping sound that made in the quiet of early morning, on a misty northern lake. Al had that fish imprint, vividly red on his cheek, for the rest of the trip. So he thought he'd get even by letting off a fire extinguisher in the cabin, missing his target, but getting Brant Scott's father, Bob, right in the face with the fire retardant. He wasn't mad about the fact it had got into his eyes, but rather that it had ruined a perfectly excellent glass of scotch, steadied in his hand. Yup, there's more to the story than puck chasing for a good cause. But we won't delve beyond this revelation. There were other fishing trips, and golf tournaments that became just as storied and legendary in club history. Point is, we played together on the ice, in the winter, and relaxed in the off season, travelling to many other parts of the region, with either fishing rods or golf clubs in tow.
I hope the hobby historian(s) with the club at present, will be able to fill in the chronicle of the Rink Rats and the Lovable Losers Hockey Tournament from the early 1990's onward to the present, because I suspect there is a great story to be captured for posterity. As I mentioned earlier this week, the history of the Rink Rat Hockey Team will likely never become a chapter in any future town history that might be written, in the near or distant future. In the tradition of local histories, there is a pre-occupation with politics, economic development, and major events, and only a dusting over of micro-histories, such as the chronicles of service clubs, sports associations and teams, if of course, there is something important attached. Seeing as I have always been a folk historian, more interested in social / cultural / recreational history, I have a soft spot for these micro-realities of our past.
The Rink Rats from the beginning, had a strong commitment to the home community, and like other clubs in the town, charitable causes were actively supported from inception. The Rink Rats began their club history with huge media prominence, and from hockey start-up of play, every October, until the ice was taken out in early April, The Herald-Gazette would carry hundreds of references to our exploits, even during the regular shinny nights. We made sure the Rink Rat brand was out there, boldly and loudly in the public domain. The people of Bracebridge knew who the Rink Rats were, by name, and by action, and we kept it all very positive. This tradition, as far as this historian is concerned, has carried on with great distinction for all these years, and in my biased opinion, deserves a chapter in any town historical over-view. Of course I have a personal interest. I'm just determined that this small segment of our heritage, won't be lost in contemporary times, or hopefully in the future, which is afterall, somewhat the purpose of writing this stuff down before it is forgotten or simply iced-over by benevolent hockey clubs in the future. The Rink Rats didn't have prominence because our team members were celebrities, the social elite, or amongst the richest citizens of our town. They were just everyday folks, quite a few blue collar workers, who became prominent as a result of benevolence as a group. The Rink Rats became known as an approachable group of semi-athletes, who would consider funding requests, and exhibition game proposals, and that might have been the simple request of the Santa Claus Parade Committee, asking if our club would be interested in putting together a float. And we still had time to chase the puck and occasionally flip it into the mesh behind big Eddy Kowalsky or the stalwart, Ed Renton. So I hope there will be some infilling of the years I missed, such that it can be a complete club history, even if its just for the posterity of Rink Rat players then and now, to feel satisfied about the work they have done, to make Bracebridge a more prosperous, ambitious, and charitable home town.
No comments:
Post a Comment