My Role in Society

What is your role in society?

Mine has to do with care, cake and cork.

But let's start at the beginning. And maybe this in not my role in the general society. For the sake fo this post, let's focus on my hockey family. A group of roughly 30 families at any given time. 

It consists of people we would usually not meet because first of all we are the ones who live the farthest away, out of state even. 

We are among the oldest; the average being probably a good ten years younger.

While hubby and I both have office jobs, many of the other parents have all kinds of other jobs like construction, hospitality, one lady is a carpenter (how cool is that?) and, as I just recently found out, there is even a cop among us.

In other words, we have not very much in common. 

Except our kids love and play hockey. 

And that's totally enough to bond over!

So what is my role within this diverse group?

There have been some scenarios that make it perfectly clear:

Pickup day from hockey camp at a mountain resort. It's hectic. There are around 60 kids (our group whose ice unit was over plus the group whose ice unit was about to start) and their parents, siblings and dogs. There are 60 sets of hockey bags, sticks and regular bags. The challenge is to match all of these people and items and get out of there.

Of course many of them haven't seen each other since summer practice, and there's lots of chatter and making plans. 

On our way out I got a text message:

Hey Tamara, could you please tell (insert her son's name) that we are on our way.... I'm afraid we won't be in Engelberg until after 10:15! 😳 Thank you!

Sure thing. Now to find that boy among all these other kids....

Fast forward a couple of weeks. 

Ice season begins right after camp in early August. First exhibition games and day tournaments take place, one of them being hosted by our own organization. Meaning every family needs to volunteer for one or several of the following jobs:

• Set up the buffet
• Work at the buffet
• Bring cakes or sandwiches for the buffet
• Clean up the buffet
• Work at the BBQ
• Clean up the BBQ
• Work at the meal distribution for the youth players
• Attend to the penalty bench

Each of the jobs requires about a two hour commitment. When the list came out, we consulted the game schedule. We couldn't possibly work while Colin played. Then again, so felt all the other parents ;-) Personally I also wanted to avoid being exposed to the heat and the wasps, so no grill or pasta station, please.

First come, first serve, we signed up for bringing a cake and spending time on the penalty box. 

Some people are afraid of this "responsibility" - what if they opened the door too early or too late? Or they opened the door, but the penalty was against the other team? I don't mind. I trust my instincts, and I pay attention to the timer.

Game day (Sunday) came closer, and I noticed there were still some open spots. The person in charge gave us a deadline, and after that he would just assign slots. Come on people, sign up already! I don't want to be ordered to work and miss the opportunity to film the game!

In the end the BBQ was cancelled, and two, instead of three people took care of the buffet. Phew!

Saturday. Text message from a fellow Hockey Mom:

Dear Tamara. I had a headache and temperature last night, and two Covid rapid tests were positive. I am going to the test center now to do a PCR test. Wanted to ask you if you could bake a cake for us? (Insert name fellow Hockey Mom) of  gave me the tip that you could possibly do that. 

Sure thing. I'll just make a double batch. So glad she didn't ask me to take over her shift at the buffet!

Sunday, 6:45am. That's how early the players had to meet. The first fame started at 8. 

Apart from gas station convenience stores there's absolutely no place to go for us parents in-between. Starbucks opens at 8 on Sundays, regular bakeries and coffee shops open at 8 on Sundays.

So we basically made ourselves comfortable at the arena. It was dark, and we heard people discussing something. I recognized the youth sports manager's wife who's on the overall organization committee, and one of our team's staff members.

The issue was, the ice master didn't show up, and he couldn't be reached on his mobile phone. He's one of the very few people who possess a master key, which is needed to open the locker rooms, the storage rooms to which our buffet helper needed access, and the general light.

Usually in a situation like this, I have a role. I'm the one who has private phone numbers and home addresses of people. I can potentially tell you their DOB and their kids' name. Since I got never introduced to the Zamboni driver, however, I was of absolutely no help, and I felt bad. 

Our coach came across a security guard and begged her to open the locker rooms, but she couldn't help, even though she was sympathetic to our situation. 

Finally somebody dared to call our franchise's general manager who must have access to personnel files. It was shortly after 7am, and they apologized profusely. Eventually the ice master could be reached. Not sure if there was a private number, or if he simply woke up because his phone kept ringing?

He arrived at 7:30am, switched on the lights, opened up the locker rooms and hopped onto the Zamboni to make sure the puck could be dropped at 8am sharp. 

Our guys lost this first game, but won the next two and qualified for the final match - against the first opponent who had beaten them clearly. 

But first they had a long break while the other teams played for third place, and our kids were looking for us parents because they needed food. They were fed at noon, and they get snacks during games, but the fact that the last game didn't start until 6:30pm, and the kids might get hungry again, hadn't been taken into account. 

No biggie. Off to the buffet, where one of the Hockey Dads was on duty who reminded me of the same tournament a few years back. 

"I sold you a glass of Prosecco early in the morning." 

That's true, that was fun, I should have another one. Come to think of it, I shouldn't drink alone, make it three. I'll toast the two staff members who were looking after our kids all day today.

"One glass is CHF 7 (about the equivalent in USD), and the entire bottle is 25 - which one do you want?"

Needless to say I purchased the entire bottle and was on my way to find my "targets" who happily accepted. 

Oh, I almost forgot, I also bought a hotdog for my athlete.

I served two more glasses to friends at the arena.

Then I retired to the upper stand where there were no people, so I could film in peace. 

I was excited and nervous. This opponent had been a tough nut to crack in the previous years. Actually it had been impossible to crack.

The game had barely begun when one of our players got hit unfairly. He remained lying on the ice until his teammates helped him get up and escorted him to the players' bench. 

Situations like this one always make me cry, no matter if it's one of our own team or the opponent's. They're 13 and 14 year old kids, and it's not the Olympic Games. It should be played fairly. 

Underneath from where I was standing, I heard people shouting at each other in the audience. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I saw that the injured player's Mom got up.

Yeah, go see how your kid is doing, I thought.

Instead she walked towards me a few minutes later. She was crying. 

"The opponent's parents were so mean to me. They were laughing because I was worried. They told be to get a grip, this was ice hockey, not miniature golf."

What? That was a dirty hit and had nothing to do with "that's ice hockey", are they crazy? Talk about unsportsmanlike behavior - of so-called grown-ups, no less. Nice role models. Shame on them! Would they appreciate being laughed at if it was their child getting hit? 

"Right? I'm not overreacting, am I?" She sobbed. 

Absolutely not. 

We hugged for a while.

Then she looked at me and went "is there any bubbly left? I could really use a pick-me-up."

Sure thing.

A while later, our team scored the first goal! Yay, keep it up, guys! The boy sat it out for a few minutes and came back on the ice after a few missed shifts.

If you are wondering how the game ended, check out my video. The final game starts at 4:12:

So, this, my friends, is why I think my role in society is all about care, cake and cork.

What is yours?