My family and I were the third of three sets of close relatives to emigrate from Manila to Chicago in 1968. Three of my cousins and I were about the same age, and we were all active boys. Hockey was the first sport we played together, and it was on the baseball diamond turned skating rink at Smith's Field on the west side. They managed to get proper hockey skates, while I happened to wear figure skates that had parallel blades and customary teeth at the front.
A Filipino boy doesn't usually find himself on the ice, so it was my first effort at skating. As it turned out, my natural skating motion was more that of a hockey player than a figure skater. Practically, this meant I stumbled often on those darn teeth and sometimes onto my face. I was too graceless at first and too stiff from the cold Chicago winter to brace myself from the fall. With proper skates not quite in the offing at the time, I wore a football helmet to keep more bruises at bay.
Within three years, all of our parents moved us to the suburbs, and I was playing little league hockey in Arlington Heights. With a full complement of gear and uniform, I came to really love hockey, even as my cousins ventured away from the sport. I loved the speed of being on the ice, and the skating motion had a grace that walking or running couldn't quite match. I became good enough at it to win two trophies in that first year of organized play.
From old heartbreak to new thrill
Forty years ago the NHL had little play on TV. That was fine, as we had sports news highlights and our beloved Tribune. One of my best family-cum-sports memories was of my father and me, listening on the radio to Game 7 of the Stanley Cup, between our Chicago Blackhawks and the Montreal Canadiens. Picture this. It was a steamy May evening in 1971, as we sat on the third floor porch in the back of our Chicago apartment, the radio situated between us.
Oh, that game was a heartbreak! It was a hard-fought series between two great teams that were very well-matched for Lord Stanley. Still, the Blackhawks were up 2-0, then 3-2, in the series. They were even winning 2-0 in that Game 7, before the Canadiens scored 3 unanswered goals to win on our home ice.
We Blackhawks fans had to wait 39 years, before our guys could hoist Lord Stanley high above the ice (2010). I was living in Dubai, and it was an Australian friend who said, "Hey Ronnie, congratulations on your Stanley Cup!" "It was a boyhood thrill," I smiled at Lance.
Blackhawks Classics during the lockout
So it's with displeasure that there is no NHL right now. After consecutive management-labor disputes with the NFL and the NBA last year, the NHL followed suit this year with its lockout. Three major play stoppages in a relatively short period of time don't bode well for American professional sports, but this matter warrants study for another article.
Like scores of sports fans across the world, we Americans love watching our athletes have at it on the field, court and rink. So I am grateful that our local Comcast Sportsnet is airing Blackhawks Classics.
It makes perfect sense, doesn't it. TV executives surely can work out agreements to air more of such games. From those involved directly in the sport, to what I call auxiliary businesses, and of course us fans, it's a complex but exciting ecology that we've all fashioned. Bars and restaurants can show those games. Perhaps even a couple of vendors can be on hand. Some advertisers would be glad to get on the bandwagon. All of this is already going on, for sure, but I think more of it can take place and thus benefit a lot more people.
That heartbreak series, notwithstanding, my father and I would love to watch every game of that 1971 championship. From listening to a staticky radio, to watching on his super-HD large-screen TV, the obligatory beers on hand, of course, we'd be thrilled.
Life would be good.
Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
Ron Villejo, PhD
A Filipino boy doesn't usually find himself on the ice, so it was my first effort at skating. As it turned out, my natural skating motion was more that of a hockey player than a figure skater. Practically, this meant I stumbled often on those darn teeth and sometimes onto my face. I was too graceless at first and too stiff from the cold Chicago winter to brace myself from the fall. With proper skates not quite in the offing at the time, I wore a football helmet to keep more bruises at bay.
Within three years, all of our parents moved us to the suburbs, and I was playing little league hockey in Arlington Heights. With a full complement of gear and uniform, I came to really love hockey, even as my cousins ventured away from the sport. I loved the speed of being on the ice, and the skating motion had a grace that walking or running couldn't quite match. I became good enough at it to win two trophies in that first year of organized play.
From old heartbreak to new thrill
Forty years ago the NHL had little play on TV. That was fine, as we had sports news highlights and our beloved Tribune. One of my best family-cum-sports memories was of my father and me, listening on the radio to Game 7 of the Stanley Cup, between our Chicago Blackhawks and the Montreal Canadiens. Picture this. It was a steamy May evening in 1971, as we sat on the third floor porch in the back of our Chicago apartment, the radio situated between us.
Oh, that game was a heartbreak! It was a hard-fought series between two great teams that were very well-matched for Lord Stanley. Still, the Blackhawks were up 2-0, then 3-2, in the series. They were even winning 2-0 in that Game 7, before the Canadiens scored 3 unanswered goals to win on our home ice.
We Blackhawks fans had to wait 39 years, before our guys could hoist Lord Stanley high above the ice (2010). I was living in Dubai, and it was an Australian friend who said, "Hey Ronnie, congratulations on your Stanley Cup!" "It was a boyhood thrill," I smiled at Lance.
Blackhawks Classics during the lockout
So it's with displeasure that there is no NHL right now. After consecutive management-labor disputes with the NFL and the NBA last year, the NHL followed suit this year with its lockout. Three major play stoppages in a relatively short period of time don't bode well for American professional sports, but this matter warrants study for another article.
Like scores of sports fans across the world, we Americans love watching our athletes have at it on the field, court and rink. So I am grateful that our local Comcast Sportsnet is airing Blackhawks Classics.
It makes perfect sense, doesn't it. TV executives surely can work out agreements to air more of such games. From those involved directly in the sport, to what I call auxiliary businesses, and of course us fans, it's a complex but exciting ecology that we've all fashioned. Bars and restaurants can show those games. Perhaps even a couple of vendors can be on hand. Some advertisers would be glad to get on the bandwagon. All of this is already going on, for sure, but I think more of it can take place and thus benefit a lot more people.
That heartbreak series, notwithstanding, my father and I would love to watch every game of that 1971 championship. From listening to a staticky radio, to watching on his super-HD large-screen TV, the obligatory beers on hand, of course, we'd be thrilled.
Life would be good.
Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!
Ron Villejo, PhD
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