On Frozen Pond and Conflict Resolution

Although so far this winter, the temperatures have been very mild, I can recall January's of past we were not so fortunate. According to records I reviewed, 9 of the 15 coldest days in Chicago where the temperature was at least 20 below zero occurred between 1982 and 1985. Perfect for someone in middle school to play hockey on frozen ponds, rivers, creeks and parks that flooded and froze.

The very origins of ice hockey, the kinds you see on TV with advertising around and below the ice, was on frozen ponds in Europe and Canada.

Pond hockey was the best. The temperatures may have been 20 below zero with wind chills that were much worse, but that was what we thought was ideal weather for hockey outdoors. The NHL tries to carry this off every year know as a “Winter Classic” but we use to do it for months in the winter. On some occasions, the city would even have the firemen come out and hose down the rinks we shoveled off to fill in the ruts and holes. One year the city even had a Zamboni smooth off the rinks that dotted the Des Plaines River and flooded, frozen baseball fields converted to homemade ice rinks.

So it was we would walk to the rink with stick and skates and shovels and hand and hockey sweaters over our bulging winter coats. Blackhawk hats and sweaters were common, usually Hull, Mikita, Savard and Esposito mixed in with Howe, Richard and Orr from other cities across the US and Canada.

By the time your laces were good and tight your fingers were numb.

Then the process of selecting a rink, determining who might have to shovel off the overnight dusting or few inches and who would build up the “boards” with other shovels would take place. Someone would have to provide their shoes as “goal posts” and others would have to create another spot for the “penalty box” that was just off the rink beyond the “boards”.

Then we would have to select teams and trade sweaters to try to get as many of the same colors on the same team. Then the teams would have to be named and players traded to even things out.

When the situation arose, which it did often, we had to figure out a way to make sure the Flynn brothers were not all on the same team, 2 kids in high school and one in my class. Long before they all went to Notre Dame Law School, they were 3 kids who played hockey all the time, in their driveway, personal backyard rink, basement, organized sports. Their skating and passing, as a trio was like something out of watching the team that use to have CCCP on their sweaters. Like the Harlem Globetrotters on ice, but with people really trying to get the puck away from them. They could have been the Hanson Brothers if they wore thick glasses and didn’t go to law school.

We would have to decide how long a game would last or what score we would play to. Finally, we would have to decide who would drop the puck, someone who would be fair to both sides, not just their side.

Perhaps you would volunteer your shoes, the shoes that would be full of snow when you couldn’t feel your toes on the walk home. In exchange, you would pick the weakest skater, only to trade him as a compromise. No trade backs. But your shoes were the coldest. Winning seemed to make up for that.

Perhaps the ice wasn’t the best on the rink that was determined “best” but you didn’t have to shovel it or offer your shoes on a rink you didn’t want to play on it seemed reasonable. A bunch of 12-16-year-old kids would figure this out. If someone’s sister wanted to play, they played for their team. They may have received what they wanted so as to not hear it from their parents later on, but it cost them in terms of giving up a spot on their roster. Someone’s mom would bring a thermos of hot chocolate later in the day. We had to work that out too who that would be. Must have been a couple of phone calls with the green phone on the wall to get this done. Occasionally, we could convince one of our dads to drive their car close to the rink, so we could play under (or in) the headlights. Plus, the car was warm when you were done playing.

I learned a lot of things playing pond hockey. I learned and perfected my skating before I played in high school. I learned how to skate on really bad ice, so good ice, like the manicured rinks of organized school-sanctioned events was like going from riding a bike in mud to riding on newly paved trails. I learned how to shoot a slapshot, on days when I had the pond or river rink to myself, I could carry a bucket of pucks and use the space as my personal shooting range. A real hockey goal would have been nice but too heavy to carry down to the river.

In high school, towards the end of my career playing pond hockey, I learned what straight vodka and bourbon taste like. And was told by the other high school kids that alcohol would keep you “warm”. And that neither freezes at 20 below zero.

[Of course, I later learned alcohol dilates blood vessels, increasing the blood flow to limbs, giving you a “warm” feeling, but as a result, leads to heat loss, resulting in lower core body temperature which can cause hypothermia]. When your 16 I think your body compensates and decide anyways that bourbon straight up tastes better than vodka alone.]

Hot chocolate does freeze.

But of all those things I learned, I think one major learning lesson was how to negotiate, how to resolve conflict, how to give up something to get something else in return.

Trying to get the rink you wanted and the players you wanted and not having to give someone else your Bobby Hull sweater and not lose your shoes in the process was always a negotiation. You had to learn how to compromise. Perhaps the games were only to 5 instead of 10, as I would have preferred, but if you didn’t get snow in your shoes, it was worth playing “2 games” and not getting frostbite on your toes. Billy’s sister with 2 of the Flynn boys was better than 2 Flynn boys without someone who had a hard time skating.

These skills are life skills. It helps you to explain to your mother why you are home after dark and negotiate a compromise. No video games that night (because you couldn’t feel your fingers anyways) but hockey the next day was still OK.

I am not sure 30+ years later if kids today learn these skills on the frozen ponds and rivers. How to resolve conflict or, prevent conflict, give something to get something. Learn if you think the ice is better, you have to shovel it. Of course, the other kids benefit too, because they have good ice you shoveled but you have dry shoes.

And it isn’t cold enough for pond hockey. And where would you keep your iPhone?