Today’s update:

The Tbird’s lost their first game of the season 3-2 this morning to the Chicago Fury. Gabe had an assist in the game and crushed a few bodies, but neither he nor the team could get a rhythm going and they floundered against a very tough opponent.

There was one bright spot for Gabe that only a hockey parent will understand: He hit several kids very hard, sending them back to their benches to ponder their lives and chances of success in a less violent sport, such as karate, boxing or mixed martial arts. He hit one kid so hard that the kid left the rink with a bag of ice pressed against his head, and the kid’s father stormed over to the rink door to glare at my son as he stepped off the ice between periods for the Zamboni. I rushed over to intervene in an argument if necessary, but when the dad saw Gabe he decided to swallow his anger.

Smart fellow.

Fully padded teenage hockey players who are armed with hockey sticks and buckets of excess testosterone make really bad opponents when you’re a 45-year-old man who has hasn’t done anything more strenuous than lift your beer to make wedding toasts for a couple of decades.

And, yes, I realize that hockey parents—myself included—need therapy for what I can only describe as their shameful love of violence.

The Tbirds won their next game 5-2 against the Cleveland Barons, and Gabe had a goal and two brawls that developed out of a furious scrum in front of the net, so it was pretty much a perfect game for him. Gabe kept his cool during the fights, and wasn’t penalized, which is what the coach rightly wants. No point in getting ejected from a game and hurting the team.

But Gabe loves a skirmish, and was grinning from ear to ear when he skated by Kerry and me after the fight broke up. The three of shared a brief moment of pure joy with only the glass separating us.

I imagine this is how some parents feel when their sons go to jail and they get to visit them on Saturdays.

Wonderful!

P.S. — I hope you like my drawing. I put some extra effort into this one to add extra human figures and get the perspective just right. Donatello would’ve been proud of me.