080 LIFE IS SHORT

Life is short and I had that brought home to me with a vengeance at hockey on Sunday morning.  Now before I get into the details of what brought me to this conclusion, I’d like to fill in a little bit of background, to bring everything into context.

RUSS CARRYING THE PUCK

I have been playing hockey since I was a kid and in 1971, I was 16, when 4 Rinks opened, I have been playing hockey every Sunday morning since.  4 Rinks has since become 8 Rinks, but now only 6 of the rinks are dedicated to hockey.  There is one rink for Skate Canada figure skating and one is an indoor soccer arena.  So, this year marks my 45^th season of Sunday hockey.

It is pickup hockey, but for the first 42 years or so, we had set teams.  One wearing white jerseys and one wearing dark.  Teams would get changed around occasionally in the off-season or at Christmas break.  Now, the teams are re-arranged each week, to defray the natural competitiveness that builds up between hockey players.  This way you are playing with different guys each week.

We are also a “superstitious” lot and each of us have our own rituals.  One thing is that there is a group that changes in one dressing room and a different group in the other.  The regulars are the ones that do this, the only change is when new guys or spares join us and then they go to the room with the most space.

You become close friends in the dressing room, swapping stories, talking about TV games, the news or off-color jokes.  Yet, with all the closeness that builds, sometimes you don’t even know the last name of the guy who has sat across from you, or next to you for 20 years.  Other rituals in the dressing room are that certain players sit in “their” spot.  For instance, I always sit on the end of the bench closest to the door.  My son sits next to me, next to him is Russ, and the goalie across the room from us.

I always put on my left shin pad and sock first, then the left skate, then I do the right side.  After my skates are on, I defog my helmet visor and tape my stick.  I tape the stick every single game with white tape.  The on go the shoulder pads, left elbow pad which gets taped down because the Velcro doesn’t work anymore.  Finally, the jersey and then the helmet and I’m ready to go.  The whole time, I’m yacking it up with my dressing room brothers.  It isn’t just one team either, there is a mix of white and dark jerseys.

Having said that though, the only time we see the other guys on our rink is when they are in full gear with helmets and visors and in most cases, it’s hard to recognize guys after the game in street clothes.  Despite all this closeness and bonding and true friendship, most of us know little about the other guys we play with.  Only a few hang out together as friends when not at the rink.  Lately there has been quite a bit of family involved.  Karl and I were the first father/son combo, now there are several and even a father/daughter/son trio.

EVERY RINK HAS THEM
LOOK FOR A SIGN SIMILAR

Sunday morning January 8, 2017 was our first game back from Christmas break.  All the usual banter took place and the game started.  Russ, who is 56 and is one of the better skaters out there was playing on a line with my son, against my line to start.  Karl skates like the wind as well and I don’t, so keeping up with those two is a chore.  Then again, speed has never been a part of my game.

Karl set Russ up for a nice goal and later Russ returned the favour and set Karl up with a very similar pass.  Both our lines were on the bench, but they went out first.  Later Russ told me he was confused on the bench and his winger had to ask him if he was coming on the ice.  He went out and back into his own zone and then started out.  Nothing looked out of place.

Russ crossed his blue line and was sort of angling towards the bench.  I was looking right at him, when he suddenly dropped to the ice like he’d been shot.  I thought he was screwing around and I was about to call him out for “taking a dive”.  That was when I realized something was very wrong, because he didn’t move.  He was so close to the bench that I could see he was having trouble breathing.  I yelled and then everyone sprang into action.

One goalie is trained in Industrial First Aid and another player up to date on CPR.  By this time, Russ was turning purple and had stopped breathing and his heart had also stopped.  For all intents and purposes, he was dead.  They peeled his gear off and someone ran onto the ice with an AED (Defibrillator).  9-1-1 had been called and they were instructing us how to use the AED.

NOT RUSS.  DEMO TO SHOW AED IN USE

Russ was shocked one time and his heart restarted and he took a deep breath.  By the time the paramedics got there, Russ was conscious and lucid.  He knew his name and where he was, but not why he was lying on the ice.  He wanted to get up and resume playing, even though at this point the only thing he was wearing was hockey pants.  He was loaded on a stretcher and wheeled off the ice.  What seemed like forever was 15 minutes from the time Russ hit the ice to the time he left on a stretcher.

None of us could think about resuming the game at that point and as I looked around there had to be 100—150 people gathered behind the glass.  All from other rinks who came to watch the unfolding drama.

I had brought up the point of not really knowing each other earlier, because in this case none of us knew who to call, except my son Karl.  Russ is the uncle of my son’s best buddy in the whole world.  They have been friends since pre-school, so Karl called Mat and managed to relay the information to all of Russ family members.

Updates throughout the day kept us informed on Russ progress and early Monday afternoon I took a drive to the hospital for a visit.  Russ was not only looking great, but able to walk around the room.  It turned out he had suffered a heart attack which stopped his heart.  As soon as he arrived at the hospital he was taken in, assessed and then given an angioplasty where 2 stents were put in.  He expects to be released from hospital Tuesday, but, he cannot play hockey anymore because it would be too much of a risk of killing him.

So, we can be thankful that Russ survived and that we all played a part in saving him.  We will be sad to lose him from our hockey brotherhood, but he gets to continue and enjoy life in ways away from the rink.  You just never know, so enjoy it while you can, because it can all be over in that proverbial heartbeat.  Good luck to you Russ, glad you are feeling better and we will miss you at the rink.

****Update from Russ himself:

hey guys at home now just resting up,,,,,,,,,,

really hard to sleep in a hospital,,,,,,,,

a big thanks to everyone one the ice that s/morning,,,,,,,,

all you guys acted in a professional way and saved my life

high 5's to everybody,,,,,

dont think i'll play for the rest of the year,,we'll see who knows

i'll see how i feel come sept,,,,,,,,will probably feel great

and ready to go but mind yu at a slower pace

once again guys thanks a whole lot for doing what yu did

and the amount of emails that followed that,,,,,,,,,,,

glad to see Bruce F, & Tom G, who dropped bye for a visit,,,

Funny thing was that when i was revived I felt great

and ready to go,LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED,,,,,,,,,

Saw the cat scan of my heart,it was blockage in the artery

which caused the breakdown,,,,,,,,,,

I feel good rite now just sum good shuteye and would probably go/out

but i think i need the heart to rest a little bit,now,,

KEEP ME IN MIND COME SEPT/17

THANKS