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Sweet justice…

February 1, 2010

I wish,

said Bess, as if talking to herself,

That I did have some witch-like powers to see what’s hidden from most people’s eyes.

Then I’d know where Nancy and Ned are.

(photo: Starshine)

Sometimes I think I may be too soft for hockey,

especially when I hear about the programs of humiliation that find acceptance in the upper levels of the sport…

Frank and Prudence were off in Ucluelet with Piper for the weekend so I had to find another home for Hockey Night in Canada…

What better place to watch the Canucks play the Maple Leafs than out in Ladner,

with a hard core Toronto fan,

in front of giant flat screen with GD HD…

I have a dear friend who I worked with for two years,

in the class of magic…

Paideia is a teacher working undercover as an Educational Assistant…

And although I don’t believe that we agree on everything,

when it comes to exceptional children,

we pretty much see eye to eye,

even as we are seeing things differently…

Just like me she grew up watching the Canucks in the family recreation room…

But her husband is from out east,

so when Toronto plays Vancouver there is some tongue in cheek in house rivalry,

on Dawn Drive…

Paideia works specifically with some boys on the autism spectrum…

Boys who are growing Canucks fans…

Once you find a point of solid connection with your students,

you have to do your research and work it with accuracy…

She’s made mistakes about game details,

and they make her stand corrected…

This past Friday,

she spun them a story about how either she or Mr. Paideia would be sleeping on the couch,

depending on who sewed up the game…

By Phil Kessel’s second goal Paideia suspected that the boys were already worrying,

for her night on the hide-a-bed,

but then there was a rapid turn around…

You know how things always work out the way they’re supposed to,

in the river of reason…

And that pucks can do strange things…

Well those three early goals on Robert O. Luongo were Andrew Raycroft’s ticket to gain some face…

I have little interest in how the numbers run,

3 on 5,

5 on 3,

or whether you’re wearing pants or shorts when you’re on the ice…

I like details,

but I have a preference for the big picture…

And Toronto “fans” were forced to feel the razor sharp pain of dangling chilblains on hard seats,

by not giving a rat’s ass about player sensitivities,

and corroding confidence…

That's when the hornet stung me...

The following Sunday afternoon,

Starshine and her team played an exciting game of soccer out in Richmond…

I was at the edge of my camping seat the whole time,

basking in the sun breaking through these west coast clouds that have socked us into a banana belt…

I felt like I was in Hawaii,

but I wasn’t…

I was right here,

cheering for my team,

in a code of silence…

And I noticed that when a player gets hurt in girls’ soccer,

both teams drop to one knee on the turf,

and wait quietly…

With the reverence of prayer radiating from the field,

my heart stilled,

and swelled…

I asked Starshine about the ritual later…

I asked her if kneeling was a rule of the game…

She said that her coaches hadn’t taught her that,

she just follows along…

She said,

Out of respect for the person who has been hurt…

It seems like the right thing to do…

Rain falls in real time…
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