A strange power is at work in the rink.

My favorite book as a child was called Ice Magic. Pie Pennelli loves to play ice hockey, but he’s got some problems: his hand-me-down skates are too big for him, and one of his teammates is always giving him a hard time. But Pie’s troubles really begin when his next-door neighbors find an antique hockey game. And so it goes…

Hockey is my life (and also writing), and my bond with my sons is unbreakable. This is my heart speaking to my boys:

Don’t like labels.
Never did.

Hated yelling.
From that, I hid.

Full of words.
A quiet kid.

I kept my feelings under the lid.

Made mistakes.
The others do.

Made some more.
And then a few.

Right of passage.
That’s my view.

Some of this, my father knew.

Tried a game.
I liked it a lot.

Found my nitch.
My favorite spot.

At the rink.
I took a shot.

The enduring section of my plot.

Now my sons.
Are on the ice.

Watching them.
My joyous vice.

I’ll be there, buddy.
Don’t ask twice.

I’m at your game; at any price.

And also there.
For what you need.

I feel your highs.
And when you bleed.

With loosened grip.
A father’s creed.

I’ll push you forward, as you succeed.

Our minds are open.

Your hearts—are freed.

~