Be Like Ryan

Since we found out on Thursday that beloved Oilers hero Ryan Smyth was going to be playing his last game in the NHL tonight I, and I assume you, have been running through our greatest memories of number 94 and his beautiful flowing locks of hair.

This isn’t going to be an article about Ryan Smyth’s greatest moments as a professional hockey player. This is a story about why I wanted to be like Ryan and why I feel like I owe Ryan Smyth a huge thank you.

I didn’t play minor hockey as a kid. My Dad, a firefighter and my hero, didn’t have the money to be able to afford registration and gear every year, or he just didn’t want to drive me to all those 6 am practices and games. Not playing hockey I think even made me love the game even more, I’d go to school on Monday and hear the stories of my friends that played their games over the weekend or traveled south from Fort McMurray to play against this team or that.

I couldn’t relate to what it was like to be on the ice and play the game, so I watched every game I could on TV, which at the time wasn’t that many. We had ITV broadcasting the Oilers, and CBC with Hockey Night in Canada. I remember begging to get control of the TV Saturday nights so I could watch the game or two that were on the tube.

When I was 12 I got a pair of skates and a couple of sticks for Christmas and every day I went to the outdoor rinks trying my best to keep up with the kids on the ice, falling far too often but not caring either way, I just wanted to play hockey. As I grew older I kept watching the game on TV every chance I had, but getting to the outdoor rinks became less and less of a priority for me, Girls and baseball were the activities I concentrated most on.

I graduated high school in 1997, I didn’t go to post secondary school right away, my baseball career was over and I found myself wanting to play more and more hockey. I still couldn’t skate well (I still can’t now), a friend had a job at one of the local sports stores and hooked my up with a bunch of gear at a very good price so I started going with my friend to the indoor shinny, playing my first ever “games” at a real rink. I sucked but I wanted to be good, I got some friends to help me with my skating and shooting, good friends these guys were.

I couldn’t score though, never got in the proper position, couldn’t take a pass and most of the time wouldn’t see the pass coming because I was too busy watching my feet chop across the ice instead of the play going on around me. This is where Ryan Smyth comes in.

Smyth was drafted in 1994, played his first hockey in 1995 and I was immediately a fan, loved the way he played. His presence in front of opposing goalies and his ability to score, 39, 20, 13, 28, 31. I thought to myself that if I ever wanted to score a goal the only way I would ever be able to do it was going to be 2 feet in front of the net going for rebounds and tip-ins. I played baseball, how hard could it be to knock a puck out of the air right, oh yeah right, knock the puck out of the air on skates. HA.

My friends and I would head to the outdoor rinks, get involved in a game of shinny for an hour or two (Note: when you are playing “posts” People don’t like it when you try and deflect pucks into the net). After the games were done we’d stay and my buddies would rip slap shots at me, I’m sure they were trying to kill me but I didn’t care, I just wanted to be like Ryan Smyth.

I’ve since taken a few skating lessons, one would argue if they actually helped or not, and began playing in a beer league, I know I won’t ever score much but I always try and take a page from the Ryan Smyth handbook of hockey “Go to the net, get in the goalies way, and who the hell cares if the puck hits you it will only hurt for a minute, or a week or a month.”

A quick story about meeting Smyth.

Playing beer league with the boys brought me to Phoenix a few years back for a tournament. We went out in Edmonton the night before our flights to Arizona and did we ever go out, I had to be at the Airport for my flight at about 5:30, not going to be until 2 after I don’t remember how many shots and pitchers of beer wasn’t the best idea. Walking through the terminal I felt like a bag of smashed arseholes and could smell the booze still emanating out of my pores. Well who do I end up right behind in the line for customs, yep Ryan Freaking Smyth. Even through my generational sized hang over I could barely hold back my excitement. But he was with his wife and children so I dared not bug him, not to mention the fact that I still smelled like a brewery, I was rather embarrassed.

Anyway turns out he was on the same flight, myself and a few of the other players glancing over our seats like kids trying to get a view of Santa coming down the chimney on Christmas Eve. Again with his family so none of us wanted to disturb him, that and how good of a mood could this guy be in? The Oilers had just ended a terrible season, I’m sure he didn’t want to talk about it.

We arrive in Phoenix and are gathered around the luggage carousel, HOLY CRAP RYAN SMYTH IS STANDING RIGHT BESIDE US! Our luggage starts coming down the chute, Hockey bags, sticks, goalie equipment, and Smyth’s eyes light up, you can see he’s interested in what’s happening here. He turns to us and asks, what’s all that stuff here for? Well 14 hockey players all in our 20’s and 30’s answer him at once. RYAN SMYTH JUST ASKED US A QUESTION ABOUT HOCKEY.

He couldn’t have been any nicer to us, he took time to take pictures sign autographs, ask and answer questions. Someone even asked if he’d come play on our team that weekend, he laughed and said he’d had enough hockey for one year. Couldn’t of treated us any better, and I remind you he did this the whole time while his wife and kids watched on, the smile on his face was just as big as the smiles on ours.

THANK YOU RYAN SMYTH! THANK YOU.

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