Friday 3 May 2013

In the Nic of Time: Chapter One — Tears in the stands

OUR GRANDSON, NICHOLAS
There would come a time, I kept telling myself, when I would write the incredible story I saw unfold on the morning of March 3. I just didn’t when that time would surface.When I looked at the calendar and realized this marks the two-month mark of since it happened, I knew it was time.Winter had a solid bite on Edmonton March 3 — a Sunday. Our family gathered for an early morning hockey game at Kenilworth Arena to watch our grandson Nicholas play. 
Number  seven. Centre. Goal scorer. On the way to Kenilworth Arena — an old community barn, oozing with character nestled in southeast Edmonton — Nicholas told his father Darren he was going to score a goal that day for his mom. We had some concerns if Nic would even play that morning. But when he went to bed the night before and tucked his hockey stick and puck under his blanket, we knew he would be in the line-up.
It could have been easy for Nic not to play. Understandable, too: on March 2 his mother passed  away after a six-year cancer battle. Nic, 10, was at her hospital side when she died.
NICHOLAS AND HIS MOM ANNA MAI IN DECEMBER
He said he wanted to play the very next day.
Nic had many family vmembers in the Kennilworth stands cheering him on.      
Midway through the second period he had the puck in front of the net and picked the right hand corner for his second goal of the game.
Many of us watching had tears in our eyes: it was bittersweet of sadness and jubilation. Nic was so excited when he threw both hockey gloves in the air before taking the following faceoff.
After the game, Nic’s coach Shaye Ganam closed the dressing room door to have a private meeting. Shaye told the team about Nic’s mom.
On his way out of the rink, Shaye stopped and we shook hands. I asked how Nic was.
After our team meeting I asked Nic if he wanted to say anything,” said Shaye, who is a broadcaster for Global TV Edmonton.
Nic got up and said, ‘When you say goodnight to your Mom, give her an extra hug — because I don’t have on anymore.”
Two goals and a profound statement.
It may have been two months ago, but it will remain with me the rest of my days.

SIMPLY PUT, MY HERO

Wednesday 1 May 2013

An open letter to Don Cherry


Dear Mr. Cherry:
You seem … unhappy.
You seem … impatient.
You seem … like you’ve had enough.
....DON CHERRY
So could this be your last playoffs, and even your last season being on Coach’s Corner?
I bring this to your attention following your show Wednesday night on Hockey Night In Canada, during the first intermission of the Boston Bruin-Toronto Maple Leaf game.
You poured more fuel on the controversy you evoked Saturday night when you said women reporters do not belong in the dressing room by re-affirming your position.
You seemed frustrated with your co-host Ron MacLean, and, at one point snapped: “Do your job here. Let’s go.”
Coach’s Corner was obviously tight for time at the end of the segment. You were hoping to talk about Minnesota Wild goaltender Josh Harding. When MacLean explained you were out of time, you had an exasperated look on your face.
And just before the camera switched off, you said:
“This is ridiculous. Watch what comes on after.”
Hmmm.
I am wondering, in all honesty, if you are getting tired: tired of the grind of every Saturday coming up with something new to say? Tired of … doing the same thing?
You’ve entertained millions of viewers since you first started with 1981 with CBC.
Some love your stuff.
Others … well, they disagree. And your latest controversy on female reporters has certainly awoke people, in and of the game, who aren’t your fans.
But there’s something else very apparent to me.
Especially after Wednesday’s show.
It seemed like work for you. I know, I know: part of the show is to create some friction between you and MacLean. It wouldn’t be as entertaining if the two of you smiled at each other for seven minutes and agreed with one another.
We expect controversy from you.
But I see a deeper level of something from you. I can’t put my finger on it but I really sense something.
Over the years, I have had the pleasure of meeting you and sharing time with you.
The one thing I have always been struck with is what a proud man you are; someone who calls your own number, and creates your own destiny.
I know how much it would hurt you if the powers at be at CBC made the decision for you to go.
This is something you don’t already know.
We all come to a crossroad in life when it’s time to move on. Perhaps you are at that point.
If this is, indeed, your last season, you have earned the right to end things — not for network executives, producers, advertisers or viewers.
But for yourself.
Sincerely,
Cam 

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