Smash. He hits the boards helmet first, he doesn’t even raise his arms to break the impact of the collision. Just like the pro who gets hit at centre ice with his head down, he crumples to the ice.

“Hey coach, did you see how fast I went?” He’s lying flat on his back, but there’s a big grin on his face as he looks up at his friend’s dad who comes rushing over to make sure he’s OK. “Can I go again?”

“Yes Daniel, you can go again, but you have to work on stopping.”

“I know coach, but if I stop I’m going to have to slow down and I want to keep going fast.”

He’s five years old, one of 12 boys who are playing the game for the first time. He’s not there because of his smooth skating, stick handling or his shot; he was part of a package deal.

The recruitment process began in the summer at a playground. The coach, Mike, was there when he spotted two boys playing. He recognized one of them as being a good baseball player and figured any kid who could catch and then throw the ball in a straight line was bound to excel on ice.

He chatted with the mom (she just happened to be a gorgeous blonde who ran a successful retail company) and asked if her son wanted to play hockey. The answer was Yes, as long as his friend Daniel could play too.

The coach hasn’t regretted the choice. Daniel has done so well that he’s been chosen to play on this select team. Not everyone supports the decision.

“That kid can’t even stop, it’s a joke that he’s on this team.”

The comment, loud and aggressive, is from Neil, a father who still watches practices even though his son didn’t make the team.

“Last week my son Stephen scored two goals and got an assist. He’s the team captain. He’s taking skating lessons twice a week. He goes to hockey camps. He can raise the puck. He’s so much better than that kid. His old man must have weird pictures of the coach or something.”

Daniel’s mom is within earshot. Her hands come up as if they’re going to punctuate a retort and she turns towards the man with the mouth — but then she moves back to the railing and the action on the ice. Something compels her to stay, to hear the next inane comment. She wonders if this guy knows she’s Daniel’s mother.

“Look at that, the season’s half over and he still can’t stop.”

The coach blows the whistle for the end-of-practice scrimmage, the part the kids put up with the drills and the repetition for.

“This should be good. That clown against the best kid on the team.”

Daniel is on the right wing, stick on the ice, waiting for the puck to drop. His team wins the draw and he skates awkwardly over the red line to a spot a couple of yards from the boards. The puck comes to him, just as they had practised.

He puts his head down and moves over the blue line towards the goal. He holds his stick out to the side and cradles the puck. The defenceman comes to knock it away but he slips and there’s a collision, but Daniel just keeps going and there’s no one in his way.

He moves his stick in to his body and tries to get the puck into a position where he can take a shot. Just as he’s ready another player dives at him and knocks him over. As he’s falling Daniel flicks the puck with his stick towards the goalie, who’s slid out to stop the play. The puck rises a couple of inches into the air, over the goalie’s stick. The three players roll over and watch as the puck slowly slides over the red line. A goal!

Daniel immediately jumps up and raises his two hands in the air and then falls down again. His linemates pile on top of him. The two defencemen fall as they get near the pile. To these kids a goal in practice is just as good as a goal in the game.

His mom pulls the edge of her ski jacket back down to her waist. She, too, had thrown her hands up in celebration. She moves away from the rail and walks past Neil.

“Hey Neil, not bad for a clown who can’t stop. In case you ever decide to come back, let me introduce myself. I’m Daniel’s mom.”