Morning practice brings parents, kids closer

By Selena Hinds

It’s the love of the game that drives the boys. It’s the love of the boys that drives the parents.

It’s 6:15 a.m. on Sunday morning. The roads are empty. The sky is dark. The air is crisp and cold. At the edge of Centretown, four vehicles idle with their lights on in the parking lot of the Tom Brown arena.

The rink isn’t open yet. The young hockey players and parents stay warm in their vehicles, waiting for the doors to be unlocked.

The Hurricanes can’t wait to get on the ice. And it isn’t even a game day.

“I had to wake up at 6 a.m.,” says Raman Sarvaria, 12.

“Well I had to wake up at 5:30 a.m.!” shouts one of his teammates.

Eleven-year-old Connor Price-Kelleher doesn’t appear to mind the early start to his day. Connor’s got a new hockey stick and he can’t wait to try it out. Arriving early at the rink means he will have more time to shoot the puck before practice starts.

Every Sunday before the sun rises, the parents of the Hurricanes Pee Wee A hockey team travel across the city to get their sons to practice.

For hockey parents, an early morning weekend drive to an arena is just part of life.

“This morning we packed up the car, stopped off at Starbucks, and made our way here. And that’s pretty standard,” says Alden Cuddihey, who works as a management and technology consultant when he’s not a hockey dad. “Devon wanted to get here early because he knows no one is on the ice. He wanted to practice his wrist shot.”

Coffees in hand, the bleary-eyed parents observe the action from the arena lobby. While getting up early may be a struggle, there is nothing the Hurricane parents won’t do to see their kids smile.

“I am here because the kids like it,” explains Garry Brownrigg, father of Patrick, 12. “This has brought me so much closer to my kids.”

When Brownrigg is not watching his sons play hockey or assisting with the Hurricanes, he is busy managing a firm that provides Internet services to small businesses.

“It’s not about me. It’s all about him. It’s great to see Connor having a good time,” says Gary Kelleher, a volunteer firefighter and an employee in Nortel’s technology services engineering group. “That is what it is all about.”

One by one, the boys come out of the dressing room and wait for the Zamboni to clear the ice. By now it is just past 6:30 a.m. Practice doesn’t officially start for another 25 minutes, but the kids can’t wait to get going.

As soon as the Zamboni is out of sight the boys jump on to the ice. Their blades carve into the fresh surface. Pucks fly into the net. Three parent volunteers and an older brother join them.

At 6:55 a.m. coach Dave Taylor blows the whistle to officially start practice.

The Hurricanes skate down to the far end of the rink. Thirteen pairs of eyes stare up at Taylor as they listen closely to his instructions.

Within seconds they form three lines and scurry back down to the other end, skating as fast as they can. Stick-handling and playmaking begins.

Taylor rushes off the ice to get his clipboard. He’s back in a flash, ready to give the next direction. This is Taylor’s second early morning hockey practice for the weekend.

Yesterday morning, he coached his older son’s team.

At 7:49 a.m. it’s time for break- away drills. Practice is almost over. Another hockey team is arriving. The whistle blows and the boys skate to the boards. They burst through the doors, and hustle to the dressing room.

The boys come out, faces glistening, anxious to see their Dads to “talk hockey.”

“The kids still talk about playing in the NHL,” Taylor says. “But Dad does too.”