patrickanderson.ca

Sledge Hockey has come a long way.

Ok, it hasn’t come quite that far.  But I dare anyone to try to find a sledge hockey photo on the internet that is more than 10 years old.  Go ahead; I’ll sit here and wait for an hour while you try.  (Google will not help you.)

I suppose that’s to my point.  Sledge hockey evolved overnight.  I’ve read that it’s origins date back to 1961, but if you could travel back just 20 years, you’d find kids like me poking the puck around the ice with the butt end of our sticks.  My brother Mike still brags about the season he boasted a goals against average of 0.0.  Impressive until I remind him that we had no way of raising the puck unless we picked it up and threw it at him.  When we did finally get blades on our sticks, there was such an outcry that it hardly seemed worth it.   If I wanted to get scolded, I could stay home and break windows playing ball hockey in our basement.

So I turned to basketball and never looked back.  When I returned to sledge hockey 3 years ago, I was blown away.  Especially when I got on the ice with Billy and Brad (ie. Bridges and Bowden).  I had talent, they had talent plus skill.  No contest.  They toyed with me.  And I realized that the entry barrier to playing sledge hockey at the truly elite level is higher than I imagined.

Can it go higher?  If I were a pessimist I’d say no; it’s might be maxed out.  By design the sport is so challenging from a balance/coordination standpoint that I’d suggest we temper our expectations of how much better the sport can be played at an individual level.  If I were an optimist, I’d point to my second paragraph and say give it time, especially if the depth of field grows in the wake of the Games.   Fortunately, I’m neither a pessimist nor an optimist, so I’ll just admit that I don’t know.

Whether the game continues to grow or levels off depends on how much emphasis is placed on basic skill development.  You can’t play hockey as a team if you have trouble receiving a pass or handling the puck.  You can only build a great team on a strong foundation.  When I read this or that article (from the Vancouver Sun), it makes me wonder where the emphasis in Canadian sledge hockey lies.  Yes, hockey is a physical game.  But no one watches hockey merely for the hits and fights (I doubt).  Hitting adds pressure and takes away time, so in the long run, probably serves skill development well by demanding a higher degree of concentration, anticipation, and quicker decision making.  Fighting offers a means of self-policing, for better or worse.  Hitting and fighting both add or take something away from the game, depending on your point of view.  But they are ancillary.  Peripheral.  Sports fans respect hockey first and foremost for the great plays, passes, goals, and saves.   Get that right, and you’re off to the races.

In any case, I really appreciate how far the sport has come.  And even though the Canadians didn’t medal, they can be proud of the part they’ve played in sledge hockey’s rapid evolution.   They may not be able to call themselves medalists, but they can call themselves pioneers, which isn’t a bad consolation.

I’ll wrap up with three offerings to the Winter Paralympics Suggestion Box (which I looked for but couldn’t find anywhere…)

1 – Able bodied sweepers for wheelchair curling.  Why not?  I can’t think of one reason why this wouldn’t be good for the sport.  And you could implement it overnight.

2 – Short track speed skating.  Sledge hockey without the hockey.  One of the most exciting spectator sports at the Olympics would be spectacular at the Paralympics.

3 – Mono-ski cross.  I was surprised to find out that this exists already – it’s been in the xGames since 2005 (watch this video! – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chd1jbZ-Vms).   The Paralympics could use at least one more event that makes spectators say, “That person must be completely crazy”.   Right now it’s just the downhill, and only when the skiers are really going for it.  This could be good.

See you in London 2012.  (Did I just say that out loud?)

Our ancestors.

Mayor at work.

At the Alpine venue with students from Head of the Lake school in Skatin. Earlier this winter I brought a fleet of sports chairs to the school and spent a few afternoons overseeing some pretty intense games of British Bulldog.

More great weather.  The sun has been shining happily for a few days now, which made for a great time watching the downhill events at Creekside yesterday.  The downhill was originally scheduled for last Saturday, but foggy conditions forced the schedulers to push it back.  Apparently good visibility is important when you’re skiing at 100 km/h.  Yes, for the visually impaired skiers as well.  Guides can’t guide if they can’t see.

So I’d never seen a downhill race.   Crazy.   I don’t know what else to call it.  Especially the mono-skiers (ie. the ones sitting down).  I’ve been mono-skiing a few times, and based on that experience, I can watch slalom or giant slalom and at least picture myself out there racing.  And by racing I mean slowly and safely carving my way down the hill and coming in last place.  Downhill?  No way.  You’re on a knife’s edge the entire way down, one enormous risk from top to bottom.  Frightening and fascinating to watch.

Later in the evening, I had the honour of presenting flowers to the medal winners in the men’s standing downhill category, this time at the Medal’s Plaza.  All three were fellow amps, so we did the secret handshake and all that.  The green room backstage was packed, as there were 12 sets of medals to give out, 6 from Alpine, and 6 from Nordic.  The busiest day of the Games.

Almost as frightening and fascinating to watch as downhill was the sledge hockey semi.  I caught the third period on TV.  Our guys played hard, but speaking of being on edge, they seemed tight.  I found myself shouting at the TV for them to just hang onto the puck a split second longer and read the ice.  Easy to say from the bleachers.  But I know both from experience and from sport pysch 101 that when the pressure mounts, your focus narrows, which is a good thing so long as it doesn’t narrow too much.  It’s happened to me countless times.  I’ve had the ball in crunch time and completely missed the most basic reads.  Lost my ability to see the floor.  Few guys have innate poise in those situations.  (Not me).  Some acquire it through reps.  But it’s a lot to ask of athletes to throw them into a truly pressure packed situation once every four years and expect them to exhibit the poise of professional athletes (NHLers, curlers) who get those pressure reps more frequently.  Then again, look at how tight the Team Canada appeared in the third period of the Olympic final.  Even pros feel the pressure.  (Rick Nash excluded).

But that’s the Olympics and Paralympics for you.  It’s part of what makes the Games interesting.

On the big screen, presenting flowers to Paralympic legend Gerd Schonfelder.

With Ben, a young painter from Ontario who dropped by the Canada Paralympic House in Whistler to present some of his artwork as a gift to Canadian Paralympians.

Rick Mercer, doing what he does.

After a beautiful sunny morning, it just began to snow.  Wait, now it’s sunny again.  Yesterday’s weather offered no such variety.  Just rain.  Buckets of it.

Apparently rain makes for good television though.  Rick Mercer and his crew were in town filming segments for next week’s show.  We offered sympathies for the wet morning they spent outside at the Nordic venue with the McKeever brothers, but the producer assured me that  the setting was perfect.  Any average joe will ski on a sunny day.  Only serious racers train in a downpour.  Good point.

Rick is very funny in person.  Good story teller.  Interested.  Candid.  Although he was thanked several times for his support of the Paralympics, he told me there was nothing altruistic about it.  He said he always gets good material, which keeps him coming back for more.

So look out for that next week.  (The Rick Mercer Report, Tuesday at 8pm ET, CBC).   Depending on the editing process, there may be a mayoral cameo.  And as for the McKeevers segment, all I know is that it will involve the blind leading the blind.  Sounds funny.  (I’m allowed to say that right?)

Presenting flowers at Women's Slalom to two Canadians - gold medallist Laura Wollstencroft and bronze medallist Karolina Wisniewska.

At the Whistler Public Library with Paralympian Andrea Holmes, after a fun and question filled book reading.

At a Four Host First Nations reception in Whistler, chatting with the real mayor, Ken Melamed. He offered to take me out and show me the local bike trails this summer.

Jammin' on the washboard in the athletes lounge.

{Written yesterday, posted now…}

Pretty quiet around here.  Seems that most of the athletes are out training or competing.  In a few minutes I’m heading to the Whistler library for a book reading with Paralympic long jumper Andrea Holmes.  The book is called “Kids of Courage” and you can download it here (www.morethanmedication.com/en/paralympics).  You can also listen to an audio version, narrated by none other than my friend Brad Bowden from the sledge hockey team. (As well as our basketball team from Athens 04).

The photos above and below capture a few highlights from the past week. 

My new friend Naoki and his crew sent me this photo from the torch relay, which was taken right after I passed the flame to him.  He’s a fellow basketball player, as you can tell from the basketball chair.  He took a slightly more dynamic approach to the relay – ball chair, torch in hand, high fives, spins.  By contrast I looked every bit the retired Paralympian, aspiring politician – day chair, torch holder, queen’s wave, corny “warm my hands by the flame” schtick.  To each their own.

L-R: me, Wilfried Lemke (UN's Special Advisor on Sport for Develpment and Peace), Sir Philip Craven (president of the IPC), Ken Melamed (mayor of Whistler), John Furlong (CEO of Vanoc)

This one is from a ceremony that took place to draw attention to the Olympic Truce Art Installation in the Village Plaza.  What is the Olympic Truce?

“The philosophy of the Olympic Truce is simple: sport can inspire peace. In 2010, athletes will set aside their political, religious and social differences and compete on a level playing field in the pursuit of excellence. Their sportsmanship and behaviour are examples of how countries and individuals can find constructive ways to uphold the values of respect and friendship. ”

I was invited to say a few words from an athlete’s perspective.  As much as  I agree with the above statement, I thought it could benefit from a little exposition, so I decided to narrow in on the word “can”.  True, sport can inspire peace.  It can bring out the best in us.  But of course, it can also bring out the worst in us.  It has certainly brought out the best and, at times, the worst in me.

Anything that elicits passion as sport does is a powerful, and yes, dangerous thing.  Sport does not automatically promote the values of “peace, fair play, diversity, and inclusivity”.   But it can, if we take the time to articulate those values, consider how to weave them into our sport cultures, construct symbols to remind us of their importance, and then be vigilant.

Here’s a link to a Vancouver Sun column that I really liked. (http://www.vancouversun.com/sports/2010wintergames/Column+Paralympics+world+that+moved/2677894/story.html) He’s bang on about Rick.  And makes a few other strong points.  I think he undersells the idea of inspiration though, as do many Paralympians.  No, I don’t want to be seen as merely an inspiration, and no, inspiring people is not what motivated me to compete in the Games.  But if it’s a by-product of what I do, that’s a good thing.  I used to cringe at the “I” word, but I’ve come around.  As soon as I realized that I was inspired by Steve Nash, then I realized that I shouldn’t disdain the notion of inspiring people myself.  Yes, people will be inspired for what I might consider the wrong reasons.  Someone is sure to annoy or offend me by getting teary eyed over the fact that I get out of bed in the morning.   Big deal.  Smile and move on.

Probably more to be said on that topic….

The home team.

I’m staring at a blank computer screen, wondering where the last two days went.  It’s a blur.  We did 13 welcoming ceremonies for more than 20 countries, with Canada as the last country on Wednesday, and USA wrapping things up last night.

The ceremonies took place in the village plaza, which is in the international zone, an open area just inside security with a few shops and a cafe.  If the athletes village were a 19th century victorian home, security would be the front door/hallway, and the international zone would be the drawing room.

The ceremonies were neatly scripted but pretty casual at the same time.   A group of aboriginal drummers/singers from the four host First Nations kicked things off.  Then Laura Vandervoort was introduced as host/emcee.  Next came a video welcoming the delegations to BC, followed by the flag crew marching in, led by John the Mountie.   Then it was my turn to deliver a short welcome speech and exchange gifts with the Chefs de Mission.  Flags were raised, national anthems played, and then it was time to dance.

DJ +  more drummers + egg shakers = dancing, some of it rather vigorous.  The Mexicans were easily the most footloose, no contest.  The U.S. cut it up pretty good.  But every country got into the act at least a little, thanks in part to the energy of the performers and volunteers and especially that of Dawn the producer.  She could coax dance moves from a snowman.  She’s the person at a wedding who will to find you and drag you onto the dance floor no matter how hard you protest.  You’re terrified of her, yet thankful she’s there to help you have a good time.

I enjoyed some of the smaller, less boisterous ceremonies as well.  Romania had a single athlete on hand, a young female skier, who was with her coach, parents, and chef de Mission.  Laura invited them all onstage, and we made it a more intimate affair.  I also particularly enjoyed greeting the Chef de Mission from Kazakhstan.  A really gracious guy.  And he gave me a dombra.  The man knows how to make a good first impression.

So it was a bit of a whirlwind, but the volunteers, staff, and performers made it so easy to step in and fill my role.  I’m sure Marni would say the same thing.    It just reminds me again that there’s no place quite like the Paralympics.  I wish everyone could experience it.

With Laura Vandervoort. She played Supergirl in Smallville and has a role in a new series called V.