The song has been running through Kevin’s head for more than a decade. It lingers in his subconscious, peeking out at the oddest moments. It might be when he’s striding into a meeting or settling over a putt; its arrival is unheralded and often unwarranted, but it’s there.

My boy's gonna play in the Big League
My boy's gonna turn some heads
My boy's gonna play in the Big League
My boy's gonna knock 'em dead
The Big League

Kevin is more than a one-dimensional father who can only see the future of his son. He adores his three daughters, each with dreams that are more attainable than anything involving his hockey-playing son. One is on her way to becoming a designer, another’s an accountant and the third is firmly ensconced in the academic delights of philosophers and ancient religions.

Ryan is an 18-year-old who has shown mediocre hockey skills and little desire to push himself beyond achieving the ordinary. He’s no Sidney Crosby, a young buck who can drive to the net and pick out a minuscule gap in any goaltender’s armour.

Size and strength are two things Ryan has going for him. He’s 6'2" and weighs 220 pounds. Kevin stopped trying to wrestle with him a few years ago when he realized his son’s brute force was beginning to win out over his own accumulated wisdom.

In a game that worships the big man, Ryan’s size has always attracted attention. Unfortunately he’s never looked comfortable in his size 13 skates. His stride has been halting and awkward and his attempts to carry the puck have generously been called “adventurous.” Yet he’s had success.

Last year Ryan was an all-star AA midget hockey player. It seems impressive, but if you’re 17 and aren’t playing at the highest level, your career is already over. Superior coaches are guiding the talented kids, the ones being groomed for university scholarships or major junior hockey. Ryan and his midget buddies were on their way to being stars in the local beer league.

In May, Ryan decided to take a shot at the tryout crapshoot. He skated for every junior team that would let him on the ice. Coaches kept inviting him back for more, so when the heat of summer settled in over the city, he ran and lifted weights. His buddies were coming home from work or the golf course as Ryan was off to the rink.

Kevin suspected coaches wanted his son around as a foil for the bright young stars. Either that or the teams were desperate for the money Kevin had to cough up for the privilege of attending the multiple tryouts.

All the right moves when he turned eighteen
Scholarship and school on a big U.S. team

One day in July, when the air was thick with summer pollution, Kevin reached his breaking point. The air conditioning in his car blew up and the big foreheads at head office had rejected a massive takeover deal he’d been working on. When he got to the rink to watch Ryan, the glass was so fogged up there was little to see. He sat and planned how to tell his son it was time to pack it in.

“Hey Dad, did you see the coach pull me over during the scrimmage?”

Ryan was walking through the lobby of the arena with his equipment hung over his shoulder.

“He says I’m getting better each time out. Says he wants to see me against some of the veterans when they practise next week. Oh yeah, he says he needs another $500.”

They were the first encouraging words Ryan had heard during this tryout journey and Kevin didn’t hesitate. He strode to his car, opened the glove compartment and reached in for his chequebook.

Three weeks later the coach offered Ryan a spot. He said Ryan needed to work on his skating, but he loved his size and determination. Ryan was ecstatic. He was playing junior hockey.

‘Happily cautious’ may be the best way to describe Kevin’s reaction. He’d heard too many stories of teams signing rookies only to let them go when some hotshot became available.

If you're gonna jump it will be with the game
Real fast and tough is the only clear lane to the Big League

Three games into the season, at the beginning of the second period, Ryan’s coach tapped him on the back.

“Next shift you fight number 22.”

Ryan did as he was told. He hopped over the boards and as the teams settled in for the faceoff he searched out his opponent. When the puck was dropped he whacked the kid across the shins. Ryan ignored everything he had learned about positional play and shadowed his adversary, poking him with the blade of his stick. When there was no response Ryan jammed his stick against the player’s skates, sending him sprawling.

The kid in the red sweater bounced to his skates and tried to take off after the puck. Ryan grabbed his shoulder and sent him spinning, and finally the kid responded. He dropped his gloves and nailed Ryan with a punch to the nose. The fight was on. Ryan was booted out for the rest of the game.

Two games later the coach made the same request and Ryan again obeyed. This time he received a two-game suspension. Next time it would be four games.

Kevin watched it all from the stands. He was proud of the way his boy had improved his skating and his defensive play. Now the coach was forcing Ryan into the role of a brawler and Kevin didn’t know what to do.

After the second fight they drove home together. The Canucks game was on the radio and they quietly listened, neither one of them saying a thing. As they pulled into the driveway Ryan told his dad he didn’t like to fight.

Kevin put the car in park and pulled on the hand brake. He turned to Ryan.

“And I don’t like watching you fight. But you better do what the coach says.”

My boy's gonna play in the Big League
My boy's gonna turn some heads
My boy's gonna play in the Big League
My boy's gonna knock 'em dead
The Big League 

  [Email Ken here]