Saturday Diary: A down-and-up season produces our own little miracles on ice
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They were 0-12. It wasn't a promising, oh-so-close 0-12, if there is such a thing. These kids, playing on what is known as a freshman hockey team even though it contains just as many sixth- and seventh-graders as eighth- and ninth-graders, truly suffered early in their season. A three-month oh-fer.
There was a maddening hat trick: 8-0, 9-0, 10-0. There was a two-goal lead prematurely celebrated and frittered away in the final minutes. Their closest game? A 1-0 loss to a team full of varsity call-ups who soon after stomped them by 7-0 to provide further negative reinforcement.
The New Year started the same old way, with a one-goal loss in a sturdy effort against an arch rival, a defeat to a team that hadn't won in a year, and yet another lopsided shutout to add to their symmetrical string: 11-0.
Tensions grew. Problems gurgled. A team created under the banner of development, with each kid playing equal amounts of time in order to get better, developed mostly depression and doubt and dissension. The thing to never forget, though: They're kids. Twelve, 13, 14.
Still, amazing as it seems at such ages, the captain, goaltender and one other teammate already had been there, endured that. They had played together four years earlier on another 0-12 team. That 2002-03 season ended with the reward of a trophy at one tournament, but this devilish case of deja vu was more difficult to tolerate. Growing up is hard enough. Going through months of athletic adversity appeared to be cruel early-teen punishment.
Take a glance at this season's initial freshman team photograph, and they look so young. Hard to believe the freeze frame is from only Halloween. They've aged since then. Matured.
The day after Christmas, they won a tournament game, the lone reason to celebrate in their opening 21 contests, a number that included exhibitions, tournaments, league competition.
In late January, they won for the first time in league play, a 7-2 road triumph. The glitter lasted barely 48 hours, when another arch rival loosed on them a nationally ranked 14-year-old -- yes, even hockey ranks kids before they get acne. The 9-2 loss was punctuated by his slapshot goal from the blue line with 3 seconds left. Contemplate that affront for a moment: The area's best player, his team ahead by a half-dozen, winds up from 65 feet to beat the buzzer and further heap indignity onto these kids. As it turned out, such harsh conditions only proved to make them more durable, more driven.
Then they won their regular-season finale, scaling back from a 3-0 deficit for a second league victory.
They won their playoff opener after yielding a goal in the opening seconds and desperately holding on for a one-goal victory over the second seed.
They won their playoff semifinal in the same new way, yielding a goal in the opening seconds and desperately holding on for a one-goal victory over a team that had drubbed them twice in another tournament a fortnight earlier by duplicate four-goal margins.
You can see where this is going, even if the parents, coaches and kids couldn't at the time.
It was their own little miracle on ice.
In the final, the captain scored two goals in the first 22 seconds.
The goaltender pitched a shutout.
They all grew into champions.
The sole young woman, dressing separately and feeling so removed, was their biggest, baddest checker that late-March night. The sixth- and seventh-graders, playing foes twice their size, threw shoulders into opponent's torsos and poked away pucks. The eighth-grade vets provided grit, guile, guidance. Each of the 21 players, only one a ninth-grader against teams loaded with them, improved and contributed and, at long last, celebrated the ultimate triumph. Over an opponent with class.
Pick a moral: Unity? Diligence? Perseverance? All were on display during the championship trophy skate.
Granted, the competition wasn't in the top tier of the 50-some freshman teams in Western Pennsylvania. Yet these kids went deep in their own end against doubt, shutouts, inexperience, inequity and a pre-playoffs record of 6-28-1. They emerged victors, winning more often in the postseason than the league season and half as many games to date. Winning a season-best three consecutive games at the unimaginable end. Winning a playoff level that seeded them seventh of eight teams.
Trophies come a yard high nowadays, but life lessons remain immeasurable. Sports immutably instruct.
The goaltender's mother found her way to the captain's mother at the end of another unfathomable season gone right. The goaltender's mother barely managed, "Can you believe our boys?" Then she and my wife collapsed in a hug and a few tears.
Time for pizza, kids.
First Published April 7, 2007 12:00 am
