There are moments when a hockey parent knows a great relationship is about to end. She doesn’t want it to happen, but the parting is inevitable.

Helen’s the manager of a sensational Minor Bantam hockey team and the mother of a goalie. The coach, Larry, has spent many evenings at her kitchen table drinking beer and talking hockey. She's a positive force who loves being part of the decision-making group.

When Larry put this team together three years ago, Helen’s son, Chris, was easily the No. 1 goalie. He was enthusiastic, acrobatic on the ice and worked hard every moment of every practice. He never let a fluky goal get to him -- he was the definition of a team player.

In the second season his enthusiasm began to wane, as did his ability to stop the puck. During that first year his strong mechanics had supported his athleticism. In year two he slacked off at practice, became careless about the fundamentals. He gave up bad goals that ate away at his confidence.

The team’s brain trust spent hours deciding whether or not to ask him back. He wasn’t the goalie they’d originally signed yet they couldn't imagine a season without Helen’s contributions. They also remembered when Chris was their first star.

They kept him for this third season and hired a goalie coach. After a month he reported to Larry that when Chris concentrated, he was good enough to once again be No. 1. The problem was that he seldom paid attention, almost never played his best.

Helen saw it at school, as well. For the first time, Chris brought home notes from teachers. He missed assignments and was developing a bad habit of mouthing off. She was summoned to several dreaded parent-teachers meetings.

The situation erupted just before the Christmas break. Helen received a phone call saying Chris had skipped school. Then he went to practice but refused to do the drills.

Helen and Larry had a hurried conference and decided Chris should stay away from the team until he agreed to play hard. Helen met with his school principal and decided her son should go to the family doctor, where he underwent a series of tests: there was nothing medically wrong.

Larry wanted to bring Chris back slowly, having him practise for a week and then play against a weak team. Helen wanted the boy on the ice, and soon, preferably in the next game against one of the best teams in the league. She was insistent and Larry reluctantly gave in.

That game went badly. In the first period Chris looked nervous yet managed to turn aside half a dozen easy shots. Early in the second his team received two penalties, tripping and interference, on the same play. They were two players short and the first shot deflected in off one of Chris’s defencemen.

Moments later Chris stopped a hard shot from the faceoff circle but couldn't handle the rebound. He wasn't to blame for either goal, but his confidence was shattered. He let in two easy shots and Larry took him out of the game.

That's when Larry decided Chris wouldn’t be on next year's team. It seemed to him that Helen wanted Chris to play more than the boy wanted to play himself.

It was about this time that Helen made her own decision. She thought her boy needed more ice time to prove he belonged and that pulling him from the net was the reason for his lack of enthusiasm. She wanted out.

After that game Larry avoided Helen, and she and her son disappeared as soon as the boy emerged from the dressing room. She dropped Chris off at the next practice -- didn’t even get out of the car -- and arrived at the next game after it had already started. A year ago she and Larry were close friends, now they were nervous about looking each other in the face.

Larry finally plucked up his courage and called. His hands were sweating. It reminded him of breaking up with his first girlfriend way back in high school.

“Helen, we have to talk.”

“I know.”

“How about after the next game?”

“Fine with me,” she said. They picked a spot.

It was Chris’s turn to play and it was his best game of the year. He cut down the angles, came out to challenge the shooters and seldom gave up a rebound. He got his first shutout of the year. Helen was thrilled.

She sent Chris to the snack bar as she nervously awaited Larry’s arrival. The two of them walked into a quiet corner of the rink where they were alone. Helen stood and said nothing, waiting.

Larry looked at his boots then up, into her eyes.

“I’ve been asked to coach the team next year. You’ve been great. I’m not sure how we would have run this team without you, but I can’t have Chris back. It breaks my heart, but I can’t do it.”

Helen stepped forward and put her hand on Larry’s arm.

“I know,” she said. “Last week I phoned the coach we were with before we joined you. Chris and I have already decided to change teams. He committed to them yesterday.”

Larry’s face showed relief and sadness mixed, and he held out his hand. Helen gave him a quick, awkward hug. They didn’t know what to say or do so they walked silently back to the snack bar. Larry bought her a coffee, black with sugar.

“I’ll make sure Chris gets to the next practice early,” she said, a trace of nostalgia already creeping into her voice. “He played well but he’s got to work on his angles.” She smiled weakly at Larry, picked up her son’s stick and headed out to the car. It really was like breaking up. It was a hockey relationship that had to end.

  [Email Ken here]