No Good Deed

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There are few smells better than the ice at a hockey rink.

I sat in the empty stands and watched the last River City Flyers practice before opening night. The team jerseys were orange, just like the NHL Philadelphia Flyers, with a stylized ‘R’ in place of Philly’s ‘P.’ I’d read somewhere that there was affiliation between the two teams, but if that were true, River City’s Flyers would be like a Single A baseball team to Philadelphia’s Major League.

Even so, the skill of the players was amazing. They flew up and down the ice like bullets, turning and cutting back at unbelievably sharp angles. Passes zipped from stick to stick. When a shooter teed up a shot, the crack of the stick on the ice was like a gunshot. More amazing yet, two of the players were padded up a little heavier than the rest and actually stood in front of those shots, protecting the net.

The old injuries in my shoulder and knee ached just watching.

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