Nope, that’s not the eloquence of legendary broadcaster, Danny Gallivan, describing countless Montreal Canadiens goals back in the day. It was my friend, ‘Mouthpiece Joey’ Mombourquette, doing play-by-play for our winter road hockey of yesteryear. Played on a flat slice of our dead-end street, sandwiched between a hill going up and a hill going down, those games were a childhood bonding ritual full of religious fervour.
On one side was Mouthpiece Joey playing goalie, fronted by the Grimer brothers: Fat Frankie, Digger Darcy, and Slapper Stewie. Frankie hung around the opposing net and whacked ferociously at the ball while threatening to rearrange your face when you got too near him. Darcy relentlessly stalked opponents in an effort to snare the ball and slam it to Fat Frankie. Stewie hung back, waiting for the ball to come to him, and slapped it as hard as he could—every time.
On the other side were Little Ronnie, Lazy Johnny and me, Lanky Bubba (that’s how my baby sister said Bobby). Ronnie was a few cards shy of a full deck, and couldn’t pick up a pass to save his life. But on the odd occasion when he managed to jam home a goal, we all roared with delight for him. Johnny usually had something else on his mind (girls!) and made sure his limited exertions didn’t dishevel his bewitching blond locks. Plus, we were stuck with Brainy Brian as goalie, because he was sickly and couldn’t run much. Cerebral and distracted, he was basically a third goal post—and usually the first to yell “Car!” when our game was about to be interrupted.
That left me to carry the load for our side, which I did pretty well because I was tall, long-legged and dogged. But even when I managed to get a clear shot, Joey usually stopped it—while also hyping his save to Herculean status. Still, his exhilarating play-by-play always thrilled us. More than that, it transported us to our own hockey immortality.
Now I’m old and far away; my knees are bad, so I can’t play. But oh, how it warms me on cold winter nights to recall my chums and our ‘Hockey Days in Canada.’ For what could be better than doing the thing you love with your childhood friends nearly each and every day?
