The fun begins

Some of you may know that my oldest son, (who started skating at 18 months, and playing hockey in 1st grade) loves to play hockey.  He has been playing ever since he was 6 years old.  He hasn't always made the teams that he wished he made during his youth hockey days.  But he never complained, he just played because he loves it, because he gets to see his friends and have fun. Often times he was on the bubble for the better team, but didn't make it.  So tryouts for the high school team were coming up and he was preparing to try out.  He is on the smaller side, but is awesome on his skates and is very aggressive.  Not afraid to check and take down kids that are twice his size.  It makes it fun to watch, but also a little nerve wracking.  When looking at the other kids that are his age, and older, that were trying out, I think he was a little intimidated.  Or maybe that was just me.  Either way, we knew they had to cut a number of kids this year and it made tryout week kinda stressful. 

So the final day of tryouts was upon us and I went to the arena to pick him up.  He had texted me and said to be sure I was there on time to pick him up because if he didn't make the team he wouldn't want to hang around there afterward.  Apparently they were calling the boys into the coaches room one at a time to talk to them and let know whether or not they were on the team. A very classy way to handle it, yet agonizing for the kids to wait in line in the hallway.  Kids were coming out of the arena one at a time, some looking happy, some not.  Finally I saw him coming out the back door, bag slung over his shoulder, looking rather glum.  My stomach felt sick.  I knew how badly he wanted to make this team.  I began silently rehearsing what I was going to say to try to ease the pain.  I popped open the back of the van and he threw his bag and sticks inside.  He came and got into the passenger seat. 

"Hey Bud", I said.  "Hey" he replied.  He had looked like he was blinking back tears in his eyes, but it was dark so I couldn't be sure.  "How'd it go?" I asked very hesitantly.  He sighed a big heavy sigh.  I was ready to launch into my, "It wasn't meant to be" "There is always next year" speech when he smiled at me and said, "I MADE IT!!!!" 

I couldn't believe it!  The little rat tricked me.  He said that they called him into the room and he felt sick.  He didn't think he had made the team.  They told him that he was a really hard worker.  They had asked him just that week to switch to playing defense after he had played left wing (offense) his whole life and he did so willingly.  That also was a deciding factor I believe, that he was willing to be versatile. 

So we have a high school hockey player in the house.  There are dress up days on game days (shirt and tie).  There are practices before school (we leave the house at 5:40 AM).  There are practices after school.  There are games far away.  And it is all good.

Tonight my friend G (whose son also made the team) and I are doing the "Pasta Feed" for the whole hockey team.  Apparently they have a "carb up" night on Fridays before their Saturday night games.  We are feeding 40 big hockey players.  You should see all the huge jars of spaghetti sauce and spaghetti that was filling my vehicle earlier today.  I guess teenage boys eat.  A lot.  I will post some pictures later.  Let the fun begin!