If you ever start to feel like your life has gotten just a little out of control…
Just remember, It’s not you.
It’s hockey.
Because this week alone, somewhere in the hockey world, a goalie decided he was no longer a goalie. Just left the net like he had somewhere else to be… went to play the puck… missed it… and then had to do that slow, panicked skate back while everyone in the rink collectively held their breath.
You already know how that ended.
Meanwhile, in my own personal hockey life…
We’re driving to the rink, barely on time, running on caffeine and chaos, and from the backseat I hear:
“Mom…”
I already know.
“I forgot my stick.”
How. HOW do you forget the one thing required to play the sport??
And somehow… it’s my fault.
Then there’s the locker room.
Practice ends… and you sit in the parking lot.
10 minutes…
20 minutes…
40 minutes…
And if you’re me… your kid is always the last one out.
Always.
At this point you’re wondering if he:
-moved in
-started organizing everyone else’s gear
-or just forgot how to take off his skates
Meanwhile, every other kid has come and gone…
And you’re still sitting there like:
“Do I go in? Do I send a search party? Is he living a second life in there?”
And then… finally…
He comes out.
Soaking wet.
No coat.
Hair completely out of control…
Holding one glove.
Just one.
And acting like you’re the one who’s been dramatic.
And of course… the gear.
You open a hockey bag and it’s not just a smell..it’s an experience.
Something between a locker room, wet dog, and life choices you can’t undo.
Some hotels literally make you keep it outside… and honestly, I respect that. That smell doesn’t leave. It settles in.
This week also reminded me of one of those moments you never forget…
We had a kid score a goal once..great play too. Skated hard, took the shot, puck went in…
But it was the wrong net.
And you could feel it instantly.
That split second where the whole rink just kind of freezes… everyone realizing at the same time.
And then you see it hit him.
The excitement disappears.
The realization sets in.
And just like that… he’s in tears.
And I swear, every single parent in that rink felt it.
Because it could have been any one of our kids.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the score. Not the mistake.
You just wanted to tell him,
“It’s okay. It happens.”
Because that’s hockey too.
And then, just to balance things out, somewhere else a kid scored and celebrated like he won the Stanley Cup…
Full knee slide. Arms up. Living his best life…
Score was like 10–1.
And honestly? I respect it. I want that level of confidence in my everyday life.
Back on the ice, a stick snaps in half… and the kid still tries to play with it.
Boy.
That is no longer a stick. That is a twig. Let it go.
There’s always that one kid:
Jersey backwards.
Socks twisted.
Helmet barely hanging on.
Already on the ice before anyone notices.
At that point… we commit.
And the bench moments…
Kid goes to take a drink-misses their mouth completely-water everywhere… and just sits there pretending nothing happened.
Or the kid who hops over the boards…
Onto the wrong bench.
Sits down like:
“Yep. This is right.”
It was not.
Meanwhile, in the stands…
There is always one parent breaking down the entire game like they’re coaching in the NHL:
“Keep your stick on the ground!”
Sir… they are nine.
And of course, hockey wouldn’t be hockey without this moment:
Fully dressed. Skates on. Ready to go.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
Now it’s a full team effort. Coaches involved. Parents involved. Kid waddling down the hallway like a penguin.
Nothing about hockey is simple.
And through all of it…
The chaos.
The smells.
The forgotten sticks.
The kids still in the locker room…
We keep showing up.
Because hockey isn’t just a sport.
It’s a lifestyle.
A loud, messy, unpredictable, slightly unhinged lifestyle…
And somehow, we wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Because if your kid plays hockey long enough… they’re going to have a moment-funny or tough-and they’re going to be okay. And so are we.
🥅That, my friends, is another edition of the Weekly Wraparound. Until next time… this is Alison-check your bag, grab the stick, and I’ll see you at the rink. 🏒