By Kayla Allen
The impatient breaths leave you hesitant as you make your way through the double doors into the cold arena.
Families and friends fill every seat in the Ajax Community Centre rink on March 11. While you’re trying to make your way through the crowd, you notice the tense energy filling the hallway. The little sisters of the eight-year-old boys who are about to play the game of their season walk by with their faces painted and homemade signs in their hands.
As I wait patiently for the game to start, two young boys walk into the arena with smiles from ear to ear as big as a rainbow. Both young boys sit in the row in front of me, and start yelling “Let’s go Kingston!”
Not long after, “Let’s go Ajax!” One side of the arena is filled with white and red Ajax jerseys and the other side is filled with red Kingston jerseys.
On my left is a mother with her two young children, both have hand-clappers and noise-makers ready to cheer on their home team like it’s the Olympic gold medal game.
On the right sits an older man holding his Tim Hortons coffee and dressed as if he’s going for a walk in the arctic. There are two fathers standing beside each other with both their arms crossed, resting on the top of the boards.
As the Zamboni leaves the ice, the crowd gets louder and louder. I can see each team lined up waiting to step on the ice barely able to see over the boards. They start banging on the glass cheering for their respective team.
One foot steps onto the ice and it looks like a stampede of rhinos racing straight for you. Thirty eight-year-old boys skate around their side of the rink staring at the other team trying to intimidate each other making me feel like I’m on the ice myself.
The buzzer goes off and the first lines get ready to skate their little legs off. The first period finishes and Kingston is up by a couple goals. I can see the exhaustion on every little boy’s face as they take a fast five-minute break in between the first and second period.
I can see the parents start to pace back and forth on the Ajax side of the arena. I think to myself, “how does one deal with their eight year old child crying because he just lost the OMHA Eastern championship game.”
The emotions start to rush through the young boys; upset looks slowly start filling their face cages as Kingston is still winning after the second period.
As I look around me, I notice that all 11 players on the Kingston bench have tremendously big smiles on their faces and all 17 boys on the Ajax team are straight-faced.
The seconds count down on the time clock at the end of the arena. Everyone on both sides of the arena stands and starts applauding the young boys on a great game and an amazing season.
“Good job boys!” is all you can hear coming from the stands. The whole Kingston bench rushes off their bench to congratulate their goalie. Both teams line up on their blue line and wait for their coaches to hand out the medals.
I think to myself that at the age of 19, I would still be devastated if I lost in the finals.
I don’t know how eight-year-old boys can be so restrained and such good sports. It makes me proud.