Ring-What?

There are a number of games played on the Canadian winter season ice.

There is ice skating on frozen ponds.

There is hockey.

There is curling – which if you don't know – is a shuffle board like game where each team tries to slide large heavy polished rocks into a target on the other side of the ice, and the team with the most rocks near the target wins. It's a great game of skill, accuracy and strategy.

And then there is ringette.

"Ring-what?"

Ringette. It's a game very similar to hockey. But very different in several key ways:

The players use a hockey stick – with the blade cut off – so they only use the shaft. The butt of the stick is taped.

The puck is replaced by a heavy rubber ring – like the one you probably played ring toss with when you were young.

The players pass the ring to each other much like hockey players passing the puck, but the skill in ringette is in receiving – catching the pass – because instead of just letting the puck hit the blade of your stick as in hockey, the ringette player has to lift their stick and try to put the end down in the middle of the ring as it slides by.

There are also some other significant rules that distinguish it from hockey – like the one that states that no offensive player can put a skate or a blade in the goalie crease, and no offensive player can play defense behind a line on their own side.

You know – rules.

But the key to ringette is trapping that ring on the end of your stick – and then slinging it off the end for a pass or a shot on net.

Oh, and ringette – at this point anyways – is pretty much played by the female gender.

So as the father of a seven and six year old girls, I was very interested to see ringette again.

The ringette I saw played this year was pretty elite. While visiting my cousin Sarah's family at their log cabin outside of Cambridge, Ontario – Sarah insisted that we attend a special game being played that day. The game was between two elite teams: The Paris Ontario Ringette Association's under 20 girls playing two Team Canada Squads representing those on or trying out for Canada's national team.

And this game was played the day before Team Canada made its final cuts.

To make it even more interesting, there were two girls from the Paris Ringette association trying out for Team Canada this day. And the crowd was torn between rooting for the Team Canada rookies, and their hometown squad.

I sat and watched this game. I was not new to ringette. Sarah has been involved with this sport with her Dad (my Uncle Fred) since she was little and living in London, Ontario. Together they started and founded the Ringette association in Mitchell, Ontario. And now Sarah is continuing the tradition for her two daughters Justine and Paige – to carry Ringette into the next generation. She is proud of the exceptional executive committee she is a part of.

When I was young and living in Minnesota, I played a little hockey. Very little – and probably very poorly. When we visited my Uncle Fred's one Christmas, he and Sarah invited my brother Paul and I out to skate a practice with them.

I still remember that day – and how incredibly fun it was. And how difficult it was to catch that stupid ring on the end of my stick. And how humbling it was to have younger girls skating circles around me.

As I sat and watched the warm ups for the game, Sarah explained to me why the older girls were skating with the younger girls from the younger teams.

"This is a very important part of ringette", explained Sarah. "Part of this games culture is to expose the younger players to the older players, on and off the ice, to help them learn and grow quicker".

So ringette also teaches team members to also be role models.

And as I looked around the ice at both the Paris and Team Canada skaters, they were each doing their part to help and inspire the younger Parisian skaters. The Team Canada goalie was talking to the younger Parisian goalie about how to get down quicker to the ice to block low shots.

As the game began, I was blown away by the skating skills of both sides. Better than the best boys I have seen. Faster and quicker spins and turns than I have seen at the AAA OHL level. It was an incredible vision of players weaving so quickly through each other that it almost seemed like positions were only a formality for score cards.

The skill and accuracy of the pass making – moving the ring to open ice and watching the team mate sling over to pick it on the end of her stick up the middle of the ice, whip it outside to the wing, and receive it back on the end of her stick and in the same motion fling it powerfully at the net for a shot – only to have the sprawling keeper block it away.

It was at least as exciting as hockey. And because the player has the ring on the end of their stick – the skating they can do – the spins and cuts and twists are so much more exciting.

It is really something to see.

If you were to ask a hockey player about ringette, he would likely tell you it's for girls.

But if you asked a hockey player to go play ringette with these girls, he would likely decline the offer.

Because hockey players do not want to be shown up by a bunch of girls.

The Old Hockey Stick

I am an old hockey stick.

At one time I was a favorite stick, used in big games to score important goals.

But now my flex is gone and my blade is cracked.

But I am still valuable. There are still many important jobs I can do.

I can be used to pry open new doors to go through, and prop them open as you transcend through.

I can be used to beat sense into those that refuse to understand the position you are taking.

Stick me in the dirt and use me to prop up ailing seedlings to help them grow healthy and strong, providing stability until they can stand on their own.

Or you can sit me in a corner of the garage, and merely look at me to remember days of greater glories.

But if I had my choice, I would rather be taped back up, and used to score more goals.

A Week of Work in Maple Leaf Nation

It was the best of weeks, and it was the worst of weeks.

Yeah, I know ... a bit cliché don’t you think?

True, but it was.

A work week in Toronto for me is 4 days too long. But we got so much done. And as I alluded to earlier, I was dropped off at the train station by my loving family as they headed to the Grandma’s house for Alannah’s seventh birthday.

The purpose of this trip was two-fold; the first to get sign off by staff members that we had accurately captured their business processes in use case documents stuffed with diagrams and narrative to describe the diagrams. The second reason to portray our vision of what the final solution would achieve and even look like for them. The former would consume the early days of the week, the latter the later days.

The temperature was minus 34 degrees Celsius and the sidewalks were layered by thick uneven ice barricaded by high banks of snow on both sides.

I must say that I do enjoy our counterparts in the Toronto office. Walking through the door, I feel like I am home in our Windsor office. We were greeted warmly and set up in the large boardroom to begin our exercises.

As the various staff came into our meetings – new faces appeared that we had not interviewed in earlier visits. So as expected, new tasks and variations to the processes we discussed were uncovered. We captured these variations and recorded them into what we hope will now finally be the final documentation of how things currently work.

This process carried on from Monday through Wednesday, each day ending with piles of red-marked documents to be revised. Each evening we as a team would go and have dinner – a nice steak one night, seafood the next. Each meal with a couple of beers and great conversation about what we had learned or uncovered that day, and how these revelations fit into our vision. Our vision was still solid and accurate.

On the third day we were relocated from the big executive boardroom to a smaller version. The Board of Directors were in the office this day, and the red carpet rolled out – as it should be – to accommodate their efforts. This evening our company executives had taken over our hotel lounge. The conversation was excellent, so we hung around and enjoyed the type of camaraderie that our company is famous for.

The Maple Leafs game was on the TV in the hotel lounge. They were playing the Sabers in Buffalo. And they were losing. Again like so often, by a single goal. And our eyes drifted to the big LCD TV to watch the high definition play by play.

The Executives jeered our loyalty to the Leafs, in good humor of course. One was a Windsor boy who roots for the Red Wings, the other from Calgary, who roots for the Flames. Having gone through my high school years in Atlanta, I am always quick to point out to him that I rooted for the Flames in Atlanta long before he had ever heard of them.

But it is hard to be a Maple Leafs fan.

The next day was the presentation of our vision. The executives were still in the building, and interested in the session. And it was going well. Very well.

It was also Valentines day.

Around the table we made a common statement that one of these trips we were going to get our hands on Maple Leaf tickets. They are impossible to get, sold out nearly every game – and when tickets could be found – they were priced beyond reasonable expectation.

“I doubt they would be sold out on Valentines Day”, said one supervisor.

“This is the time they usually release their unsold tickets”, stated another.

“Let’s give it a try”, said Peter – our team leader – and the presenter of our Vision presentation.

Jamie launched his web browser to the Ticket Master website. I went down to the lobby of the building to have a smoke. Yes, I started smoking again. Naturally, when it’s minus thirty-four degrees Celsius outside.

Both Peter and Jamie are die-hard Leaf fans. I couldn’t bear to witness the disappointment of not finding tickets once again.

When I returned, Jamie said “I hope you wanted to go to the Leaf’s game tonight”.

“You got some?” I turned and asked.

Jamie beamed a proud nod.

“How much?” I asked.

“Eighty-seven bucks” came the reply. “And I already bought you one”.

“Ahh .. uhhh … errr – great! Thanks! I’ll pay back when we get home.”

I hadn’t budgeted for a hockey game. It was Valentines Day. Darlene was already mad that I was away for it. To tell her I was going to a Maple Leafs game … how would she take that? It turned out later that she was quite happy for me.

Jeff, a sales representative from our London office was going to join us, up also for our meetings. Formally of Toronto, he was quite adept to drive us in. He picked us up at the Hotel, and away we went.

The traffic in downtown Toronto is never easy to navigate. Even more difficult when trying to get to the Air Canada Center for a Maple Leafs game. But he did it. Like a pro. And he found a great parking lot with only a couple of blocks to walk to the arena.

Ontario is a pretty big province. Toronto sits on the coast of Lake Ontario. All areas west of Toronto are populated with predominantly die-hard Maple Leafs fans; the kind of fans like those in New England who root for the Red Sox , Celtics and Patriots. Fans like those in New York who live and die for their Yankees.

Leaf Nation.

But the funny part about it is that this organization – steeped in such heavy tradition and legend as the Toronto Maple Leafs – this version of the Maple Leafs - stink.

Like they have for years. Forty one years to be exact. They likely will for years to come.

They stink.

And tonight they were fighting for position.

The way the rest of the Leafs Nation saw this game was different than my perspective. You see, I have grown very tired of being let down by these bums. And right across the Detroit River from Windsor we have the Red Wings – easily the best team in the National Hockey League.

Leaf Nation saw this game to be the one that got them to within eight points of the wild card position.

I saw this to be the game that keeps them out of the basement. To keep them from being the worst team in the NHL.

But still, any Leafs fan will tell you that to just attend a game is an experience. Toronto and Montreal easily share the distinction of being the capital of Hockey. The home of hockey. We live in a land where you do not have to refer to it as ice-hockey. Hockey is indeed Hockey in Canada.

I got a program, just like I would a Tigers program for a ball game. Jeff bought a round of giant sized beers – just like I would do at a ball game. And we headed for our seats.

And what great seats they were.

We were in the 1^st row of the upper level. We hung out the crowd – with the ice nearly beneath is. We could clearly see the whole ice. We could see plays form on our end and play out down the ice. We could hear the hits. We could see the finesse. And we could clearly see all the goals. We could clearly see all the penalties that were called on our Leafs. We could clearly hear all the boos that the fans were piling on the players. And we could see all the goals resulting from the New York Rangers power plays.

The Leafs did come close to tying it up. And into the last two minutes it was a close game. But when they pulled the goalie in the closing seconds, New York’s one goal lead became two with a long slider across open ice as the puck slowly trickled into the empty net.

Deep sigh.

I may be the first person to wait twenty five years to see the Maple Leafs play in person, only to finally decide to root instead now for the Red Wings.

But it just seems so damned unpatriotic to be a Canadian – the home of hockey – only to root for the team from Detroit.

If I were to switch my allegiance, I would be able to root for a likely Stanley Cup final team. I could get tickets – because while Detroit is called Hockey-Town – the city is complacent with having the best team in the NHL. Yawn. I could go and see the play offs.

But that red wheel with a red wing attached seems so insignificant an icon. The Canadian flag was changed from a version of the British Iron Cross in the mid 1960’s. The blue maple leaf icon known for the Toronto Team was colored red.

Red to satisfy the fans of the Montreal Canadians.

To symbolize in the hockey Canadian way that English and French indeed live and play hockey together.

That truly is where the red and white maple leaf Canadian flag came from.

Canadiana, baby.

On the train home, we barely discussed the game. It was disappointing. We were much quieter coming home.

Saturday night I watched the Maple Leafs play in Boston. It was on the CBC – Hockey Night in Canada. And they played much better. And they beat the Bruins four to three – in overtime.

And I thought to myself “Great!! We are only eight points out of the wild card!!”.

It’s hard to be a Maple Leafs fan.

Yeah, I know ... a bit cliché don’t you think?

True, but it is.

A Hoe-Down with the Cardinals in Mo-Town

In Canada, we are celebrating what we call the “May two-four weekend”.

While the two-four does reflect the Bob and Doug McKenzie Canadian Philosophy of beer drinking here in the Great White North (beer is most commonly sold in boxes of 24 best known as two-fours), in fact this is the Victoria Day weekend to celebrate Queen Victoria’s birthday.

What is the best part of the May 2-4 weekend? Getting Monday off.

It’s also my cousin Ellyn’s birthday.

This year Darlene and I spent the Sunday at the Tigers game. They were playing the St. Louis Cardinals – in the third and final game of the 3 game inter-league series rematch of the 2006 World Series.

Last fall of course, the Cards beat our boys 4 games to 1. It didn’t make sense at the time, and it does not make sense today. Last year during inter-league play, the Tigers swept those Cardinals. They did it again this year.

Did I give away the ending? I don’t think so.

Going to a Tigers game for us means crossing the border by either the bridge over or tunnel under the Detroit River. No big deal, we do this all the time. Darlene does it every day.

The game starts at 1:05 PM. We drop the girls off at Grandma’s by 11:15AM. And we are in line at the tunnel at 11:30 AM.

Understand that if the border did not exist, we would be 5 minutes away from Comerica Park.

We chose the tunnel because the tunnel goes right down town and comes out underneath the Renaissance Center – the keystone of the Detroit City skyline from the Windsor side.

The Ambassador Bridge – even though we live at the Canadian end of it, forces you to use the Michigan expressways – which are mostly closed for repairs and various projects during the summer. Not a fun Sunday adventure.

But what we forgot was that the Red Wings were to play the Anaheim Mighty Ducks in the all important game 5 of the Western playoff finals. That game started at 3:00 PM at “The Joe” (Joe Louis Arena).

And in Hart Square, they were having a hoe-down.

No, really. A hoe down. In downtown Detroit. Mo-Town.

No, I don’t think it was a play on the word “Hoe” either. For the first time in my memory, the downtown plaza was packed with Stetsons and cowboy boots. Shucks.

Anyway – we got in line at the tunnel at 11:30. At 1:30 PM, we cleared customs in Detroit. It took us an hour and a half to make a 5 minute journey. Most of which we could not even listen to the radio while in the tunnel.

Luckily when we emerged, we found out our boys had taken a 1 – 0 lead.

Yee-haw.

We found great parking for a sold-out game – two blocks away for only 10 bucks.

Yee-haw.

We entered Comerica park through the center field gates. There you will find a row of bronze statues for all the Tiger greats: Ty Cobb, Hank Greenberg, Al Kaline, and Willie Horton. There are spaces for more. Spaces for guys named “Pudge”, “Kenny”, and perhaps if he decides to stay around – Gary.

Darlene had just met Willie Horton a couple of weeks before. She was really struck by the tremendous bronze tribute to this younger vision of him.

After acquiring two beers and four hotdogs – we headed to hunt down our seats.

Section 114, row 45, seats 22 and 23.

We found section 114. But it only had 43 rows? We found a park “usher?” who escorted us to the other side of section 114.

“We didn’t think you were coming” he said as he moved his newspaper and lunch for us.

Row 45 was the very back corner of section 114. Since this section wrapped around part of the pavilion, there were only two seats for Row 45. Seats 22 and 23.

“The good news is that we wont have to get up every time somebody on our row wants out” I said to Dar. But the bad news was you couldn’t see the field for the steady stream of people passing by.

Yee – haw? Nah.

Gary Sheffield, for the first time this year, played right field. Maglio Ordonez instead was the DH. Sheff was brilliant out there. He made three great sliding plays, and one basket catch. Mags had an RBI.

You know, I might could live with Mags DHing.

Justin Verlander was the starting pitcher and lasted 8 good innings.

Yee- Haw.

In the end, The Tiger’s won, sweeping the Cards. What the heck happened last October?