Thin Ice

Thin Ice
By Herm Sherwood-Sitts

This time of year, when it’s bitter cold; I think about how Dana, Amos, Larry, Mike, John and I, would go down and shovel the snow off of the ice on the river. We had a spot just upstream from Head’s, where the river would freeze over, from bank to bank. The other guys were pretty good skaters; me, not so much. They would let me play goalie with my boots on. Armed with a snow shovel, I would stand my ground. What a battle it was. Boston Bruin’s they weren’t, but a force to be reckoned with they were. Snow down yer’ neck, up yer’ sleeves, frozen knees along with bumps and bruises, just like the pros. (A few fist fights too!)

This went on for a while, and then one day, Larry fell through the ice. His pants froze so fast that by the time we got home, he could only take baby steps. After our parents found out, we weren’t allowed to play hockey on the river anymore.

So my friends, that is why Poolville, doesn’t have a hockey team.