Hockey on Easter

In the tradition of the Roman Catholic Church this is the most important season of the Church year. Easter is upon us. There is new life, new hope, a new day. What was dead is now risen and gives us new life. This is our hope, this is our belief.

The rituals of Easter were true to form this year. Church time, preparing the feast, conversations with like minded friends, and hockey, yes hockey.

The mere mention of hockey on Easter often draws gasps of incredulity from the more traditional of my Catholic acquaintances. But it is really very Catholic. By Catholic in this instance, I mean, of God. For my sons and my son-in-law this was a weekend of great experience. I was reminded as I watched them, shut my eyes as they headed for the boards or one of the other men on the ice, of a great line from the film, Chariots of Fire. The main character in the film is asked why he runs. He is, as many will know, a fierce man of God, and his response echoes that truth. He says, I run, because when I run, I feel His pleasure. So it is that my men have since boyhood, on the surfaces of countless Canadian arenas, felt that one of the purposes of their created beings had its foundation in some very much larger Power. We were truly celebrating the new creation.

Here they were assembled with their friends in a league that is made up of people in the Arts. There were actors, musicians, and friends of those who entertain us; those who give us metaphors and music for what is so good, so sad and so important in life. Often those things we cannot articulate or sing in our own words.
The ice surface was full of testosterone, and adrenalin the stuff of which sport is made. The tribal and primal like yells that began games, the physical contact and then in the freedom of this generation, the tears of defeat and victory.

As a gesture of goodness and sympathy, pucks were distributed to all the teams. It was the Tenth Anniversary of The Exclaim Tournament. A fabulous logo was on one side, (designed by my son-in-law) and on the other, the simple white letters on the back of the puck, "In Loving Memory of Al Mazeika, 1941-2007." My boys' father. He was a man who long ago decided that hockey on Easter was not a big deal. Praising God and being with family was. With that symbolic puck, everyone participating was able to pay tribute to a fabulous hockey father. His sons celebrated in their own way, one on a championship team with his brother-in-law, and one with a heart pumping goal. Pappy celebrating Easter in his new place, and we in ours.

Following the tournament finals there is perhaps the most special game of all. The children of the participants have their very own game. Little ankle skaters to the very proficient house league team skaters. The fanfare begins with great music. Sean Cullen had a great tune this year. Enough to bring a tear to your eye. The announcement that elevated the little ones to the status of players at professional arenas all over the world. A thrill for anyone with a heart. All this followed by a family skate on this a great family day.

And so it goes that we have hockey on Easter. There is so much that is not good in this life that must be judged. Let not hockey as comraderie, as sport, as celebration be among these things. I celebrate the New Creation in diversified ways. The Great Canadian Game is one of them. Let it bring us together to dance the dance that calls us to Easter's new life.