Wednesday, February 12, 2014

E- non-stop

The magical thing about childhood is that almost anything is possible. While 95% of dreams in our kids heads won't come true, we don't know which 5% will...and therefore have to treat them all as real.
This is so often lost in adults, and it's kind of a shame. I love dreaming of a bigger, better future. I don't share it with too many people in my life...but I'm always doing it. Therefore, as a parent, I always encourage my kids to dream big.
Lukey's latest, and most persistent dream to date, is to play goalie. He loves it. He thinks about it constantly. He watches lots of hockey on TV and on-line. He analyses moves, and copies them.
I have to admit that it's not the easiest dream to encourage. Goalie is a very loaded position for many reasons. However, my desire to support Luke far outweighs my reservations, so I just continue to watch him feel out this new identity.
The interesting part is that I have no idea whether it will last. It won't surprise me to find that this is just a passing phase. After all, how many little Canadian boys have dreamed of playing goal for their favourite NHL team? And how many have actually started down that path...very few.
And yet, as the days have turned into months, I can't help feel that Luke's desire is probably more than a simple passing phase. The guy can name far more NHL players than me and he reads old hockey books like a born-again on death row might study the Bible.
It will be interesting to see how this weekend turns out. Lukey is getting to play goal for the second time this year. His first experience was one of his team's only wins on the season. This bouyed his confidence and love of the position.
What happens if/when he gets lit up? Will he still be as enthusiastic or perhaps move on to another that is more friendly to the wallet and ego of his Dad?
Who knows, only the future will tell. For now I can tell you he is in love. Last Sunday he played centre and defence for his game against Burnaby. Immediately afterwards, he strapped on the pads and played 2 hours of shimmy with a few friends. He must have faced 300 shots, going down and up on every one of them. This is pure sweat!
I had to drag him from the ice. A couple of hours later I returned for my game. He insisted on getting his goalie gear on, warming up with my team, and then sitting on my team's bench. At the end he begged me to take him back to the mini-rink for some more shots.
I couldn't do it, the game had worn me out. I had to placate him with promises of shooting on him in his street hockey gear in the garage...and I did. He beat me. Lukey, you are non-stop.

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