Zamboni

At the peak, the climax of the halfway point the lights come up, the crowd stands, some still jeering some still cheering, stretching, turning to their neighbors and commenting on the game.  Time to gather snacks, drinks and hit the head. Most of the 25k faces turn away from the ice below, but one tiny 6 year old girl standing between the legs and hips of the adults next to her, gets what she came for.  On the ice below she watches as the magic unfolds before her eyes.

She was just entering the age of learning true life lessons, the kind of stuff that can shape a life and influence decisions.  It was around this time of her life that her Great Aunt, a catholic nun, taught her how to work her way through a crowd of overzealous bargain shoppers by placing her small hands on her hips, exaggerating the sticking out of her elbows so as to make her small body take up triple its width.  The mantra of “elbows ups girls, elbows up” to her and her sister as they entered the Saturday morning shopping frenzy in Filene's Bargain Basement in downtown Boston. So did her Uncle, a catholic priest, teach her at a young age how to bang on the glass at a hockey game, at just the right moment when two players smash each other into the boards. Their faces squished against the glass, the players eyes seeking out the whereabouts of the puck frantically, within a second they release each other to the wake of the frenetic fans, a blonde braided young  girl and her white clergy collared Uncle banging fists upon the glass, pure glee across their unlikely faces.

However, now, at this transitional time of the game she sees the revered machine slowly ease out from its place of honor. It is typically dressed in the colors of the home team, tonight with the recognizable Boston Bruin “B” painted upon its side, she focuses in on the intent driver.  Watching him slowly maneuver his charge, carefully and attentively across the ice, comprehending the seriousness and the responsibility of the task. The driver has one hand on the small steering wheel, the other on the middle knobbed lever.  He eases out of his seat leaning over the side of the machine to watch sharply as the water spray lays just so across the ice.  Revealing in his wake the glistening smooth perfect frozen water, fresh ice.  The toe picks, stick jabs, and blood all erased with artistic mastery of grace and ease.  A fresh new surface prepared for it all to begin again.