By Dylan Gonzalez
Summer, 2010.
What’s a summer bound college student, straight out of their freshman year, to do with one’s self? I chose to largely sit on my ass. Looking back on it, I can only recall one truly significant moment, during the month of August. I made my way down very early on a Saturday morning to join up with a group of fellow Kevin Smith fans on the day of his 40th birthday. We were partaking in an annual pilgrimage to Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash and then venturing on a tour of several local landmarks the filmmaker had used in his films.
I had no fucking inkling as to what I was getting myself into.
While at lunch with this ragtag group of fans, somebody (myself or otherwise) mentioned the Walter Gretsky Street Hockey Tournament. I knew it had occurred for the second time that year and it had certainly piqued my interest. My soon-to-be VASHL mentor, Jaemeel Robinson, said something along the lines of “We’re getting old, you should play.”[1] I wanted to go mostly for two reasons: 1. To see this amazing group of people again. 2. The drinking age was only 20.
I just never expected my parents to let me go to Canada with a bunch of people I barely knew to play hockey. By that time, I was not much into sports, so my dad, who had coached soccer at my
elementary and high schools (including myself) and was an avid fan of all the major leagues, found it especially baffling. Needless to say, when I ran it by them, they were still okay with it and
gave me the go ahead.
I took my first plane ride up to Toronto in 2011 and was soon on my way to Brantford after getting picked.
It was a surreal situation to say the least. For the bulk of the VASHL, I was the new guy. To me, I was the outsider. Sure, it was a welcoming experience, but it was a totally new one at the same time. I had never done something like this. On top of it all, I was the baby of the group (then 20, now 22 and still the baby), so who knew what kind of trouble I could have gotten into? I had just broken up with my third girlfriend, finished my second year of college, so of course I was thinking about where my future lay.
What the fuck were my parents thinking?
In all seriousness, nothing happened that first, fateful trip to Brantford. Well, nothing bad anyway. Instead, I had a truly unforgettable time and became even closer with newly found hockey family. When I stepped out of the airport and my mom picked me up, she asked me how the trip was. My response was, “Can I go next year?”
Fast forward to now. Since Brantford ’11, I have gone back for the 2012 tournament and played hockey in New Jersey four times. I have just graduated college and despite all the unpacking, I know I have to pack up part of it again next week to get ready for Brantford 2013. But this year’s tournament is a little special. The 2013 tournament marks the five-year-anniversary of the event.
So, what does that mean to somebody who has only been playing in it for three years? Well, I can never claim the title of OG VASHL, that’s for sure. But at the end of the day, I really don’t think it means a damn thing. What really matters is the fact that I was offered the chance to join the ranks of one of the most committed groups of people that I have ever encountered. I really don’t know of a group like the VASHL. Their dedication and integrity is unmatched and of course, they know how to have a good time.
Anniversary or not, I am gearing up for Brantford 2013 like it was any other time we were getting together to play hockey. We always go for the hockey, but I always go for the people.
[1] Having now played for three years, age has little impact on the VASHL, when taking in account the ages of Darryl Clarke and Paul Saunders, whose combined ages total 4,958,393.
