The Box Hockey Champion of The World – christinelind.com
Sometimes we forget to acknowledge the most important part of a lesson learned …
Playing Monopoly one night with my ten-year-old granddaughter triggered a childhood memory. “What
does it say, Nani?”
“It says: ‘You Have Won Second Prize in a Beauty Contest. Collect $11.’”
“Eleven dollars won’t save your bacon,” Zoey said. “I want to buy six hotels.”
“I
won a beauty contest, once.” Helping her line the hotels up nice and neat on
Boardwalk and Park Place, I reminisced, “I was around your age.”
“Your
turn, Nani.”
“It
was at Miller Park, we lived across the street from the playground. They held
recreational events in the summer. I won a singing contest, too.”
“You owe me six hundred dollars, no wait—eight hundred dollars …”
“I
stood on a picnic table and belted out, Where
the Boys Are, a cappella.”
“Where
the boys are?”
“By
Connie Francis,” I said, doling out all the money I had.
“Uh,
Nani, you’re short a hundred.”
“But the biggest contest I won that summer was the box hockey tournament—I’ll have to mortgage my B&O.”
“Box
hockey? And what’s a—ca—pella?”
“It’s like regular hockey but played with a large wooden box. I played a lot of hockey on the lake that winter with my brother and his friends, so I knew how to slide a puck around with a stick—a cappella is singing without accompaniment—I won Miller Park’s title. Now I could compete in the regional.”
“Regional?”
“Play against the other park’s winners. My dad went with me because it was a big deal for the neighborhood. Miller Park hosted the finals and I was their champ—they were all counting on me. All week leading up to the tournament I got a lot of attention, a lot. The local news even covered it.”
“You won that too, I suppose,” Zoey said. “Oh, goody, ‘Advance to Go. Collect 200 dollars.’”
“No.
A boy with a crew cut and freckles. I never scored once. I had been on the
mountain top and slid into the valley within seconds. My dad consoled me with
the usual clichés on the long walk home.
“Anyway, they aired the interview with the crew cut boy on the local news that night. I’ll never forget what he said: ‘I wasn’t gonna let a girl win, that’s for sure. I practiced and practiced.’”
“Your
turn, Nani.”
“I
hadn’t practiced at all! I practiced looking in the mirror announcing to a sea
of adoring fans that I was the greatest in the land. The Box Hockey Champion of
the World! I remember standing in front of a mirror, saying it over and over. I
practiced that real well.”
Zoey
loaded her hot cocoa with more whipped cream. “You know you lost, don’t you
Nani?”
“Yes, well done,” I said. “I knew it was over
when you bought Park Place.”
“Okay,
Nani, now we’re tied.”
“What I guess I didn’t know … ” I said, folding up the board, “was how much it hurt.”
