Minor Hockey, Major Joys

Inside the Arena

Unlike the kid in the song Hockey by the late Quebec band Beau Dommage, I never dreamed of winning the Stanley Cup. I quit the sport early—or maybe it quit me. My hockey career continued in schoolyards, streets, outdoor rinks, and now in scattered gyms close to home. I'm old enough to (maybe) remember Guy Lafleur’s legendary 1979 goal against the Bruins in Game 7 of the semifinal—on a pass from Lemaire, no less.

In Quebec, the word “hockey” carries a mix of emotions nearly spiritual in depth. When I met with the Centre Multisports team to discuss topics for this magazine, the subject of hockey arrived as subtly as a Zamboni at a funeral. I was looking for an excuse to visit the arena—as a dad to four daughters who still believed, wrongly, that hockey wasn’t really for girls.

At the Vaudreuil-Dorion arena one Saturday, I met passionate parents. Secular, but still devout—in their own way.

Long-Haired Players and Changing Views

The Peewee B game between Vaudreuil-Dorion and Huntingdon had just ended when I spoke with parents and coaches Patricia Quesnel and Martin Séguin. Their responses to my barrage of questions cut through the rumble of the Zamboni. “At first, it’s the parent who opens the door,” said Quesnel. “If they stick with it, it’s the child who takes over.”

I was surprised when she revealed that her daughter had just played. I had subconsciously assumed hockey wasn’t for girls. But Quesnel, a mother of three hockey-playing kids, corrected me with a look. “There are more and more girls playing around here,” she said. In Sherbrooke, where she’s from, ringette doesn’t exist, so hockey is the norm for girls too.

Martin Séguin added, “Kids see others playing—friends, family—and they want in. We just give them the tools.” Both parents had kids on the ice, and both were deeply involved as coaches.

Hockey and Emotion

I asked if hockey holds a special emotional place beyond being a sport. “We play it, but we don’t just watch it,” Quesnel said. “We live it—in the street, in the rink, indoors and out. But it could also be another sport. I have three kids in hockey, but other sports can be just as intense.” She’s right. I’ve never seen parental brawls at swim meets, gymnastics, or dance.

Still, the emotional charge around hockey is undeniable. As kids move into more competitive leagues—AA, BB, etc.—costs and expectations rise. “It’s partly about escaping the daily routine,” said Séguin, a former Junior AA player. “My son looks forward to the rink. When he’s not playing, he’s looking for ice time.”

A Viking Coach and Generational Passion

Coach Éric Doyle entered the rink dressed as a Viking—it was Halloween, after all. His daughter Laurie plays hockey after being inspired by her brother. Her son Thomas, in turn, was inspired by her. In the Doyle family, hockey is heritage.

“Here in Quebec, we’re hockey fanatics,” Doyle said. “But go to the U.S., and it’s basketball or football. Hockey is our passion, and it triggers deep emotions in parents. Sometimes too much.” But he’s clear: “At this level, it’s not about chasing NHL dreams. It’s about team spirit, commitment, and having fun. We’re lucky—this year, we’ve got two girls on the team. It brings a new dynamic.”

Ultimately, hockey is just one way—albeit a powerful one—for parents and kids to bond, learn, and grow. Children simply play. And sometimes, as the song says, “I wish I could tell it on TV. What it really feels like to play hockey.”