Last weekend everyone in our house lined up for a hockey grand final.
It was Pete’s perfect supporter scenario and he wasn’t here to see it.
The kids cried about that. I cried about that. A lot of people who knew cried about it. And a lot of people watching on the sidelines of those games cried about it, too.
Because Pete was a fixture at our hockey games.
Up until a few years ago, Pete knew nothing of hockey despite playing quite a few sports in his childhood.
But it didn’t take too many weeks on the sideline for him to start espousing his knowledge of what we needed to do to be better players.
It was clear to him that hockey was like any other team sport - play as a team, keep the ball off your opposition, score goals... and then there were some hockey-specific rules: don’t let the ball hit your feet, put your stick down if you want to have the best chance of receiving the ball and/or scoring a goal.
Also - being on the sidelines meant he could see things happening, like opposition forwards loitering near goals unmarked, and that if you could encourage a tiring young player to keep tackling or keep running alongside an opposition player they stood a good chance of getting the ball.
So he yelled out instructions along these lines.
Loudly and often ... at almost every game we played.
He barely missed a week during the season - often timing his return to town from a work trip away, or departure, to ensure he would be on the sidelines cheering and encouraging.
Last year, he made himself the coach of the B grade women’s team so he could be in the bunker, yelling instructions, in relative protection from the elements that prevail at Pedrina Park.
He became president of the hockey club without ever having played a game. Learned the rules and put himself forward and became the Vice President of the association.
Then when the association opened up the opportunity for men to play a limited role in the U16 boys competition to keep the young blokes in check and give the old guys a run - he jumped at the chance.
He decided the best place for him was in goals - as a keeper he could direct play, keep the team in check, encourage them, support them and help hot-headed teenage boys see past their own immediate on-field frustrations to keep playing the game.
He loved it and the boys loved having him there.
He wasn’t without fault, though.
More than once he was chipped for his on-field language. The most memorable of which was during a game featuring many mis-hits and poor strikes he told them ‘it’s not a cat, don’t pat it, hit the f**king thing’.
There was also the time he came out of goals to run at a small attacking player and falling on top of him and then suddenly realising there wasn’t any part of the small boy sticking out from underneath his goalie armour. And the time he end up turtle-like cast on the field - a combination of over zealous actions and failing legs that resulted in a pulled hammy.
He was hard on the boys - but he felt fair - when they decided to play as individuals rather than as a team.
And so he inserted himself into hockey in Hamilton in his usual loud, larger than life style.
When the season began this year, every player in our club donned black armbands for him.
He had such an impact on the club despite having hadn’t only a short time in the game.
When the season ended, his absence was noted even more.
With everyone playing in a grand final, Saturday would have been one of his proudest days.
He loved nothing more than to see us all play, and in a grand final, it only escalated his pride, his yelling and his encouragement.
He wasn’t there on Saturday when Pip took the field and played in a losing grand final.
He didn’t see Isobel, Molly and Sam play together in a team that won their game - during which Sam scored a goal and Molly (as goal keeper) kept every attacking ball at bay to win 4-0.
He didn’t see the big girls turn around and back up one premiership win, with a second, playing with me in the women’s competition.
The game score of 7-1 looked like a walkover - it wasn’t - but he missed seeing the girls stand up and play a role in the win and my only grand final goal to date.
He wasn’t there to see it, but plenty of people who knew Pete were ... they took on his role of telling me to run more/faster with gusto!
There were tears after the games. And plenty of beers and wines at the conclusion of all three games.
I tried to very hard when giving the winning captain’s speech to not cry - but I couldn’t help it when so many people watching knew the missing piece from the day and so many people within our club and association had helped us get through the season without him.
We missed having him there so much. So many people noted how much there was something missing on the day. They told me and the kids that. They let us know how much he was still missed. How valued a member of the hockey community he was.
Thanks for yelling at us everyone - as enthusiast vocal supporters you did him proud.
* Thanks for the pics Soph X
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