And when we awoke that next morning (afternoon), there was yet another surprise in store. Sid's friend (and mine too!) Julia happened to have a friend who was unloading some hockey gear: helmet, gloves, pants, shin/knee pads and a throw-in jersey - next-to-new, hundred bucks. And she was at his place already today, so things were pretty easy. Our agoraphobia of the day before having abated, we'd gone out somewhere for the purpose of doing something (already, I don't remember what, but we wound up taking pictures on some snowy backstreets for Sid's Christmas cards for friends abroad...) and we returned to find Julia, who I'd say stands about 5'2'' at most, devoured by this stack of equipment on our doorstep.
We rescued her and all went into the apartment, and I tried the gear on. The first time I had ever put a true piece of hockey equipment on. It started to feel real once I put the pants on. I had played shinny here and there, so I had worn gloves before; I once didn't know how to skate at all, so the helmet was nothing new, either. (In passing, neither was my first one - it was white with a big black LUKE in Magic Marker across the back which had to be explained way too many times for a nine-year-old.) And having been a soccer player, the shin guards just felt like the equivalent of taking steroids - slide tackle me now, bitch...! But bulky and really sort of ridiculous, hockey pants feel kind of like vinyl track pants if that makes any sense... but they were so comfortable, and it might be because they were the first piece of equipment that was unique to this sport, the ones that said "you're playing hockey now... not just going skating, not filling a snowbank with beers and dicking around with a stick and a puck and body-checking each other all afternoon [I still don't know how no one got hurt on those ponds], but actually playing actual hockey." I know that I spent the rest of the afternoon grinning like an idiot. I just didn't want to take them off.
Julia's friend - also named Dan, and as these first entries are backdated, I'll tell you there's a strange trend coming - is taller than me, and "lankier" (which means he hasn't got a beer gut going quite like mine), but the gear is a perfect fit... well, the shin guards might be too big, but it's a start; I figured that it might be best to start with the most available, and work up as things wear out or during my next quarterly retail therapy session. Besides, what do you do, send part of the package back? No way. I'm as sure now as I was then, they fit fine.
At Sid's request, I posed for my first hockey card, 1972 O-Pee-Chee style - judge for yourself:
Pretty mean-looking, right? (Uh... no.) And notice the little tiny shoulders - still some equipment lacking, but at least our kitchen window backlights it... and I thought our plant looked kinda sharp... I strangely felt right at home with things for one reason: from bottom to top I was going to hit the ice in Bauer (skates), Easton (shin/knee), Hespeler (pants) and Mission (gloves). And honestly, I had kind of wondered well before ever facing the equipment challenge what it might mean to play with a mixed bag. I'm sure at some levels, mixed brands of equipment tells the kid head to toe in Nike-Bauer that you bought your equipment based on one of the following factors: (1) income - too low to "outfit," or in some cases to even buy new and not used equipment; or maybe, (2) fit - you're either growing really fast, or you spent the whole summer trying on every piece from every brand, and you are one damn meticulous player who has the physics of the game down to a science. As concerns the second possibility, though, it could just as easily be overcompensation for a failure or a lack of desire to master the skills of the game. (I won't go so far as to call it cheating, but any kid with top of the line gear will stand out for a few years, quite possibly undeservedly so.)
I've luckily enough had the chance to reflect, though, and though I didn't think it on New Year's Day, I think your equipment can transcend these questions, or that it might just be taken for granted in some cases and not scrutinized at all. But you still have to ask, what does it say to kids about developing skills when they lace up their older brother's CCM tacks for that pair's fifth or sixth season and wish they could be wearing the $600 RBKs the kid beside them has? Or shooting with a $300 composite stick? Could there be a class war, blind to the combatants' age, taking place in dressing rooms across our nation? Should we hate Sergei Fedorov or Mats Sundin for introducing Nike to hockey fans by wearing everything they offered? If equipment can be taken for granted, though, I guess there's no reason for stars to not move their Porsche should another dump-truck full of money pull up to their door - they would be superstars anyway, right? The problem, if there is one, might just be the marketing - not being able to get the best gear might lead to a spiral in confidence, which might in turn lead to a hockey ambition fizzling out. Being told at a young age that you'll never afford hockey equipment - and yes, my father went to Canadian Tire one day when I was about 11 and "shopped", then showed me the gruesome details of his research - will of course avoid this spiral, and just start you at the bottom. I don't necessarily blame him for it - but at the same time, my friend Richard fell into a whole bag of hand-me-down equipment for free, and finally started playing at around 13, even if it was just house league. It can be done cheaply, it's just a question of wanting to make it happen. I look at my mom and her new partner, and his son, who has been playing hockey since he could walk, practically: they don't make anymore money now, but Phil wants his son to play and his son wants to play. Actually, a couple of years ago, he was the top-ranked Atom player in Ontario... if that means anything at all. As I said in my last post, the numbers don't lie.
My uneducated opinion on the whole matter is this: just play hard in whatever you're wearing, and trust your now-made-in-Russia Sher-Woods if you must; the goal is not necessarily to give yourself every advantage and look better than "the competition," (who would be, in this case, your teammates as well as your opponents), it's to develop your skills - parents thinking your six-year-old is NHL-bound, are you listening? I'll let your composite stick blow apart anyday while getting a couple of years out of my $19.99 stick... and if I have to work a little harder to learn to play well with it, I honestly don't see how that could be bad.
The best guideline for equipment shopping, or so I'm told, is comfort; aside from the questions in my head about brandism, stepping into used equipment just felt right, which might be all that matters: or maybe you can chalk it up to some internalization after hearing Don Cherry advocate to "you kids out there!" to buy used equipment and save mom and dad some money three to twenty times a season since about 1990 (when I was finally allowed to stay up to the end of the second period - remember? Hockey Night in Canada used to start at 8 pm). I had to wonder - as, in a very funny way, would the staff member helping us at Canadian Tire later in the week - if this discrimination could still apply north of Midget; nearly half bought already, and my only matching pieces were the CCM helmet and stick. Of course, the stick and skates only sort of count on this list anyway - the stick was a road-hockey purchase in the summer of 2004 (yes, I was 21 at the time, which my room-mate Colin thankfully taught me is not too old for road hockey...).
Actually, now that I think about it, if this whole experience is to teach me anything, it might be just that: you're never too old. Sometimes, though, as I would find out, your equipment can be: again, writing from the future, I will set the table for a coming entry entirely dedicated to my skates. For the moment, though, I still have to buy a half a hockey bag full of equipment... (not to mention, the hockey bag). Riding the momentum of the travelling pants, we set out to finish the job. Being New Year's Day, only the Canadian Tire in the Eaton Centre was open, and while we made a valiant effort to get there before 6 p.m., we tanked at Spadina station after walking from Bathurst: being the first of the month, Sid and I both needed Metropasses, and being the first of January and a stat holiday, both stations had none (gotta love the holiday service!). Stage 2 would have to wait for another day.
Stay tuned for Stage 2, "Quest for the Cup," featuring the guest stars from your very own Toronto Eaton Centre Canadian Tire and Sportchek.
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