The Zamboni driver has rarely been so cool

Hello Everyone,

I learned to skate in conditions that are basically a Canadian stereotype - on a pond, behind the old farmhouse, with my parents and siblings, on freezing winter days, wearing hand-me-down clothes. I might as well have rode a moose to get there and taken lessons from a beaver who was in a Stompin' Tom cover band and married to Ann Murray. I can remember being immediately good at it, and any video evidence to the contrary has clearly been doctored to show me in an unflattering light. But I digress. This past weekend, I had the opportunity to take my nephew Harrison to his skating lessons. He's also learning stereotypically Canadian fashion, just a bit updated for the times. He goes to a publicly funded arena where a multi-ethnic group of families bring their kids for mildly chaotic lessons that still somehow work pretty well. Drake might as well have been driving the Zamboni, wearing a Haley Wickenheiser jersey and drinking a Tim Horton's coffee.

Speaking of Zambonies, that was the real highlight. For Harrison, I mean. I've seen a Zamboni clean an ice surface more times than I can count. So, like more than 11.

I spent most of the 25 minute session, bent over helping Harrison stay upright. Having no children of my own, I'm generally overcautious with other people's kids. I don't have a good sense of what's really dangerous, so I just assume everything is a danger and/or poisonous. We spent our time going over skills like getting up off the ice, turning in a circle and moving forward. Harrison tried to take a bite out of the foam pizza toy that was used a learning aide. The full face cage did double duty there. It not only protected him in case of a face plant, it also prevented him from putting a filthy piece of pizza-shaped petrochemicals in his mouth. When I started playing hockey, pretty much every father of a kid on my team was a blue collar worker of some type. Welder, farmer, linesman, etc. They had serious forearm strength, and used that strength to tighten your skates to the point where the eyelets almost touched. Or so it seemed at the time. I was conscious about not doing the same for Harrison, but still get them tight enough to provide sport. Life's a balance. If you ever worry about Canada's place atop the hockey world, go see one of these 'Learn to Skate' classes. There were about 8 different groups of kids and 1 group of adults on the ice at a time, cycled through every 25 minutes, for 3 hours. About half of the kids were from a visible minority group. That's the base of the pyramid upon which you build a hockey powerhouse. After the class, I hurried us to the change room and quickly got our gear off. The star of the show was up and Harrison didn't want to miss it. The Zamboni, not driven by Drake, instead a slightly chubby city worker wearing a hockey helmet sitting askew on his head, held the mesmerized attention of Harrison and a few other kids, while he made his slow, straight passes up and down the ice. Everyone gets a chance to shine, once and awhile.

wes