BERLIN, NJ – Anyone who has spent some of their free time in youth hockey can easily describe the ritualistic minutes spent prior to an approaching game. The scene is always the same. Anywhere in this country, on any winter weekend, the landscape is identical. If the visiting team’s fleet of cars pulls into a parking lot, if young hockey players wipe the sand from their eyes and if dads start lifting equipment bags from the trunk, it is getting fairly close to game time.
By the end of a long 25 game season, our pre-game bit had developed into a ceremonial process. I expected today’s to be no different than the prior 24. As an older type who has been involved in this great game for 50 years, it is fair to tell you that this past game was, in fact, very different.
Our prayers for an out-of-town game had been answered and a caravan which had formed three hours earlier in Pennsauken, New Jersey descended into the wonderland of bricks, mortar and ice known as the Fort Dupont Arena. Once targeted for closure, Fort Dupont defied all odds by surviving and then became a living lesson in Hockey History by thriving. Presently they serve over 10,000 children a year. We did
Pops Ryan and Coach Henderson (r)
Please know that the arena is located in the center of Southeast DC’s Ward 7; an area that you will not confuse with the more stately photos normally associated with our nations capital. But please also know that Ward 7 is quietly confident in playing by their own rules. They have a track record of success and a neighborhood made of fierce pride, friendly folks, honest hearts, and a bunch of absolutely wonderful young hockey enthusiasts. In truth, majestic Fort Dupont Arena and courageous Ward 7 seems to be a match made in heaven – literally; for it is a living saint by the name of Neal Henderson who stood taller than any opposition and breathed life into what has become a triumphant hockey program, playing in a most attractive modern-day artifact.
Now past his 70th birthday, Coach Henderson remains the proud father of the Fort Dupont Cannons. Make no mistake, he still has a heart that pounds loudly and a vision that quickly sees far beyond the confines of contemporary boundaries. As such, you may not be surprised to hear then that the Cannons are not your everyday hockey team. What they are is a direct product of Coach Henderson who, with his strong will and soft, caring hands, created Fort Dupont Ice Hockey. It is our very first minority Hockey Program in the United States. I know only to say that his work could not have been easy.
Starting with the goal of providing city kids with the opportunity to participate in an organized hockey program, Coach Henderson has built as classy a hockey program as you will find. Their positional play is flawless, they excel in puck distribution skills, and their commitment to each other is obvious, even during pre-game warm-ups. It is an understatement to say that they are well coached.
For over a year now it has been my dream to participate in a game at Fort Dupont. As a guy who grew up in a setting identical to Southeast DC, and who also came to love the local rink as the best place in the neighborhood in which to escape, I was magnetically drawn to this arrangement. It did not take long for my enthusiasm to surface. Coach Henderson was there to greet me in the parking lot.
I told him the truth. That we came down from South Jersey to play in his rink. That we, the undefeated Pennsauken Firebirds, wanted to be a part of his history. In the ensuing minutes, he met every one of our players and every one of our parents, speaking as if he were the lucky one in the bunch. Our day was already made by Coach Henderson’s presence and we had yet to enter the building.
As for the game itself, allow me to share some of what I saw as the highlights of the day.
First of all, no one questioned the referees. Not a parent, not a player, not a coach. Not once. We all knew that this wasn’t a day for such small behavior. Besides, the officials did a very good job.
Every one applauded good plays, cheered nice efforts and stood to acknowledge the numerous acts of sportsmanship. A dazzling glove save by valiant Pennsauken goalie, Andrew Phillips, was rewarded with a particularly huge ovation – by everyone in the building. Both Teams, both coaching staffs, all the city moms and dads and all the suburban moms and dads. From the bench it very much looked like all the adults had become friends too. It took a few moments for me to realize that all the applause was not only about the glove save, and it was not only about the hockey game. It was a celebration of unity – and if this old man knew it, then surely, all the others knew it too.
Of particular note was the atypical conduct of the hockey parents. They were far from the norm and it was a site to behold. They cheered without reservation – very often they stood and cheered. There were ongoing shouts of approval – for their sons, for their son’s teammates and for their son’s new friends on the other team. Much like a choir, the parents sang the praises of reassurance. It was as if we all knew that this day was possible and the celebration had finally come.
At the conclusion of 45 memorable hockey minutes, Philemon Powell of the victorious Fort Dupont Cannons was named the games MVP. That’s a nice award as it’s quite an honor to be the very first trophy winner of what will become the “Annual Coach Henderson Classic”. His dad thought so too. It was touching.
Incidentally, you will not see Philemon’s name on the score sheet. He had neither goal nor assist. What he did have was a passion and a desire that was far too large for his tiny frame to adequately contain and, thus, it dripped all over the ice. Philemon Powell oozes a love of hockey.
It was the kind of a game when youthful gusto was measurement enough to be recognized and rewarded. It was the kind of a day when innocence put ignorance in some far away place that could not touch our game or our kids. For all those things, Philemon represented well. He deserves the trophy. I am glad that he won it.
A few days have now passed and I still reside on Cloud 9. From way up here in the stratosphere, it looks to me like Coach Henderson should be voted into the US Hockey Hall of Fame, preferably the next time the Election Committee convenes. He did it. It was his mission and it was his ministry, and he did it. Coach Neal Henderson changed the game. In the process he changed people from Pennsauken and people from Washington DC. Now, thanks to him, this is the future of Hockey. City kids and suburban kids exchanging their jerseys and playing a choose up game after the regulation game had ended. When was the last time you saw that happen? Between any two teams?
If I am right about this, Sunday’s match was not just about a kid’s hockey game. If I am right, it was a heart squeezing example of an inner-city neighborhood and a suburban development, both reaching across old barriers and making new friends.
If I am right, it was a game that made every person in the building feel proud of their children and made them feel loved by all acquaintances.
If I am right we all left there feeling very much the winner – parents, players, coaches, scoreboard operators, concession stand workers.. everybody.
If I am right, then it was a glowing example of the re-birth of the United States. If I am right, join me then in saying “God bless America…for we are marching on, shoulder to shoulder, smiling and unafraid…as we are true examples of possibility…and we will not be stopped.”
The love of hockey will spread everywhere. The love of each other will open the doors, knock down the walls, and proudly point to our origin – the Fort Dupont Arena. Yes we can.
Contact the author at pops.ryan@prohockeynews.com.
