Overheard at The Bean: Hockey
Every small town has two important buildings. The church and the rink. One saves your soul. The other tests it.
The rink is the only place in town where the coffee is worse than the church basement’s and nobody complains.
You haven’t really lived in Saskatchewan until you’ve sat through a minor hockey game in a rink so cold you could see your breath, your coffee steam, and your regrets.
The rink board meeting takes longer than the game. Always has, always will.
The loudest person in any rink is a parent who never played the game.
You can tell a hockey mom by the coffee in one hand, the Tim’s cup from yesterday in the cup holder, and the schedule memorized to the minute.
Hockey parents don’t have weekends. They have tournaments.
I’ve driven three hours to watch my grandson play forty-five minutes of hockey, and I’d do it again tomorrow. That’s just how it works.
The drive home after a loss is the quietest place on earth.