Hello everyone. This is Jeremy. The author's son. My father isn't even kidding about his visceral love of the game. We were the first kids in our small town to have cable because ESPN had the Stanley Cup playoffs, which weren't broadcast where we lived. My first hockey game was at a municipal rink (the kind you had to wear a coat to)—a Budweiser-sponsored amateur hockey league. (This is where my 8-year-old self learned that blood bounces on ice). When our family moved to Salt Lake City, my father was a season-ticket holder to the IHL league Golden Eagles. Some of my fondest memories are running around the Salt Palace, on school nights even, while my father yelled his head off at the opposing team. I share his disappointment with our boys. Sometimes sports aren't just sports; they weren't in a pick-up league brawling on the ice in Idaho Falls in the early 80s, they were representing their sport, their Team USA teammates and, yes, the United States of America.
Thanks son, ya done me proud. I remember the Golden Eagles fondly. But I spent more time screaming at the refs than the other team. Thanks for the memories.
Hello everyone. This is Jeremy. The author's son. My father isn't even kidding about his visceral love of the game. We were the first kids in our small town to have cable because ESPN had the Stanley Cup playoffs, which weren't broadcast where we lived. My first hockey game was at a municipal rink (the kind you had to wear a coat to)—a Budweiser-sponsored amateur hockey league. (This is where my 8-year-old self learned that blood bounces on ice). When our family moved to Salt Lake City, my father was a season-ticket holder to the IHL league Golden Eagles. Some of my fondest memories are running around the Salt Palace, on school nights even, while my father yelled his head off at the opposing team. I share his disappointment with our boys. Sometimes sports aren't just sports; they weren't in a pick-up league brawling on the ice in Idaho Falls in the early 80s, they were representing their sport, their Team USA teammates and, yes, the United States of America.
Thanks son, ya done me proud. I remember the Golden Eagles fondly. But I spent more time screaming at the refs than the other team. Thanks for the memories.