Alright, let me share a bit about this whole “PHC Hockey” adventure I embarked on a while back. It sounds kinda official, “PHC Hockey,” but really, it was just me and a couple of other parents trying to get something going in our neighborhood, Pioneer Hills. The idea was simple: get more local kids, and even some adults, out on the ice, playing hockey in a super casual, no-pressure way.
So, How Did We Kick Things Off?
Well, it all started one evening, just chatting, you know? We were complaining about how organized sports were getting so intense and expensive. We just wanted something fun, something accessible. So, we landed on “Pioneer Hills Community Hockey” – PHC Hockey for short. Seemed like a decent enough name at the time.
My first step was to see if anyone was even interested. I drafted up a little flyer – nothing fancy, just something I whipped up on my computer – and stuck it on the community notice board. Talked to people at the local coffee shop, mentioned it at a PTA meeting. The initial buzz was actually pretty good! Lots of “Oh, that’s a great idea!” and “My kid would love that!” enthusiasm.
Then came the real work. Finding ice time was the absolute biggest hurdle. The local rinks were all booked solid with leagues and figure skating. We eventually found a smaller, older rink that had some awkward early morning slots on weekends. Not ideal, but it was a start. Then, equipment. A lot of folks were keen but didn’t have skates, sticks, or anything. I spent a good few weeks scrounging. Garage sales, asking friends with older kids, even managed to get a local sports shop to donate a box of used pucks. It felt like I was running a mini hockey charity.
The Actual Grind of It
Getting things truly off the ground was, let’s say, a learning experience. Here’s a taste of what we were up against:
- Commitment levels: People loved the idea, but getting them to actually show up consistently? That was tough. Life gets busy, I get it.
- Skill gaps: We had everyone from kids who could barely stand on skates to a few dads who used to play a bit. Managing that mix was tricky. I tried to keep it all fun, just basic drills and lots of free play.
- Resources (or lack thereof): We had a handful of donated pylons and those beat-up nets. I became the unofficial skate sharpener, using this old hand-cranked sharpener I found in my dad’s garage. My back was killing me some weekends!
I remember this one Saturday, it was freezing cold, and only three kids showed up. Three! And me. I almost packed it in right then. But then one of the kids, little Timmy, scored his first “goal” – basically pushed the puck into an empty net – and his face just lit up. That kind of thing kept me going, at least for a while.
It felt a lot like when I tried to build that massive shed in my backyard a few years prior. I had the grand plans, bought all the wood, and then halfway through, I realized just how much work it was, and how many little things I hadn’t accounted for. You just gotta keep chipping away, even when it feels like you’re not making much progress.
Where Did PHC Hockey End Up?
So, did PHC Hockey become this huge community league? Nope. Not even close. It fizzled out as an organized thing after about a season and a half. The initial enthusiasm waned, life got in the way for a lot of us, myself included. The complexities of trying to organize even something super casual just became too much for a few volunteers with already busy lives.
But it wasn’t a total loss. For a while there, we had a good little thing going. Some kids who’d never skated before learned how. A few families connected. And what’s kind of funny is that an informal skate still happens at that rink sometimes. No PHC banner, no schedules, just a few of the old regulars who text each other and show up when they can. So, the spirit of it kind of lives on, just in a much smaller, more organic way.
Looking back, the biggest takeaway for me was about expectations versus reality. You can have the best intentions, but getting a community initiative truly off the ground and sustaining it takes a monumental effort. More than I had to give consistently, anyway. But hey, I learned a bit more about my community, sharpened a heck of a lot of skates, and got a good story out of it. And little Timmy still waves whenever he sees me. That’s something, right?
