Yesterday, the zamboni gods smiled upon us. In a hockey fuelled day it just kept on getting better and better. Not bad given that by midday we were seated rink side in Brossard watching a practice of les glorieux. There they were in all their paddingness, doing set plays, listening to Jacques and Kirk, getting mentally and physically prepared for today’s Super Bowl Weekend encounter with Crosby and his Penguins.
The previous evening’s victory was a close thing won in a shoot out against the Bruins. It was the first Noah-David had seen live. It set the stage for our Super Hockey Friday.
On our return to Sorel, we got some food into the little belly and headed over to Parc de la Rivière. The idea was to do some sledding and scoot around in boots on the outdoor rink. I brought the skates along just in case.
The playground equipment got a minor workout and then it was straight to the rink with skates on. It was everything he talked, hoped and dreamed about for the last few months.
He was skating with a hockey stick, his Montréal Canadiens puck, real goals and his grand-papa Raymond. No chair this time. His balance was good, his ankles straight. Light years of brightness were radiating from the smile bursting off his face. He took passes, scored goals, fell down, got back on his feet and skated the length of the rink. We were all six inches off the ice, floating on his exploits.
I tried to track down Yzerman’s number to see if there were any spots left on the big ‘O’ team but I couldn’t find it. Noah’s ready to go. I’m looking forward to our next visit to the rink.
Seeing is believing. Watch out Ovechkin.