Before I became interested in the snare drum, my passion was street hockey…. and bikes but the picture is about hockey so…
This picture is part of my 70’s (or at least near 70’s) experience. I found it in my box of treasures tucked away inside an old book. And no I didn’t mutilate it – you will read about that later in the story.
I hadn’t seen the picture in at least 30 years and it brought back some good memories. I’m not sure exactly when it was taken, I’d guess late 60’s early 1970’s on my street in North York, Ontario.
This rag tag crew all lived within 20 houses of mine and represent the best friends I have ever had. So much so that I remember most of their names – which for me is a really big accomplishment.
I’m not kidding, I can meet someone and within 5 minutes have no clue what their name was, or think that I do and then call them by the wrong name, sometimes for multiple meetings. Sometimes it was a relief to know they weren’t intentionally ignoring me!
I’ve even worked on projects where I avoided saying a person’s name out loud for fear of screwing it up royally. I’ll never forget a face though. So if I recognize you right away, get your name correct and then remember it longer than a day you just have to feel special – just saying. Back to the picture….
We were all hockey nuts and played road hockey constantly. I remember games where we played in shifts – as one player finished dinner they rejoined the game replacing another who had to go eat.
Funny enough, another thing that really stands out in my memory for some reason is protocol related to the tennis balls we used. Choosing the right tennis ball was an art. Fresh out of the can they were too bouncy so we were always on the look the dead ones. The holey grail were the balls who’s pressurized cans had leaked during shipping and no longer bounced right. We used the tennis season to stock up for winter.
The new white balls resulted in another problem – they were always getting lost in the snow resulting in long delays to locate them. Our solution – Ritz fabric dye. First few times resulted in interesting skin shades – the little things eh!
Back to the kids – I’m in the back row to the left of the tall guy. His name was Carl and the thing I remember about him the most was that he loved Brad Park of the New York Rangers (a google it moment for some I’m sure) and to never stand in the path of his slap shot as they hurt like hell if they hit you – especially if they were frozen.
The kid to my left right is Steven P , my best friend throughout my time in North York. He was one hell of a fighter, regularly in some kind of trouble and always had your back. I never really had to fight anyone. Give me a hard time and you had to deal with Steven who scared most bullies with good reason. I lost track of him after we moved away.
The two red-toqued brothers were Jens and Matthias who lived across the street from me. Their father was quite an adventure junkie and most importantly owned a small Swiss bakery.
I remember his collection of Canoes, learning to speed skate and cross country skiing, the epic Canoe adventure in Algonquin Park and oh the baked goods he used to bring home for all the neighbourhood kids to share. Ok Mike concentrate – get back to the kids.
Of the rest I remember each and every face but only a few of the names. The one with the green jacket is Richard whose brothers raced snowmobiles. Next to him in the blue jacket is Steven L whose parents were one of the first I knew of to get an inflatable dome over the pool in their yard (It helped that his father was a coach at the nearby York University). Next to Steven L and wearing a brown jacket was “little” Mike who lived next door to Richard, had a drum set and was quite good at playing it.
Little Mike? – let me enlighten you on how the hierarchy of names worked in our neck of the woods. Mike was a very popular name and our part of the street had at least three. There was Big Mike, I was known as Mikey (better than Middle Mike) and the smallest Little Mike. There might even have been a Michael. Not too complicated eh?
Lots of memories – I might get to some other stories from the ‘hood’ but that will have to wait for later.
One last thing,
You likely noticed that the picture is a bit chewed up in places. That was the work of our Border collie puppy. A friend of my wife June rescued him and June just had to have him even though we lived in a ‘no pet’ condo at the time.
Neither of us had ever owned a dog so it was a real learning experience. Lesson one was that Border collies, even mixed breeds are smart, high energy and get bored easily. The result one day was chewed up carpet, teeth marks on furniture legs and destruction of my box of memories including this picture. I still remember having to put our table legs in empty glass jars to keep them away from him. We loved that dog and were lucky to share 14 years with him. Look at this puppy picture –how could anyone stay mad at that face.
Mike