brucewoodwriting.com
A Midd-Day
By Bruce Wood
Middlebury Magazine
The clack of stick on stick and the scrape of skates on ice. The dull thud when a puck hits the boards. Voices echoing off empty seats. The trill of a whistle.
A familiar potpourri of sound greets former Middlebury skater Jon Parr, who has flown in from Chicago with his girlfriend to catch the Panthers' opener against Tufts and the next afternoon's contest against Connecticut College.
While the women's team wraps up practice, Parr studies a plaque on the wall of Chip Kenyon '85 Arena. He runs his finger over a picture of the 1990-91 ECAC championship team and stops at younger version of himself sandwiched between Dave Fritsche and Chuck Hibbett.
"This will be the first time I've seen a game in this building," a reverential Parr says with a look around the still-empty arena two hours before gametime. "It's almost a cathedral. I joke with my friends that this is a school of 1,100 and you could hold an Olympics here."
At ground level of the eight-year-old arena Parr's successors have shed the shirts-and-ties they wore to their 3:30 team dinner. Some are stickhandling balls in the hallway outside their locker room. A few will ride a stationary bike. Others will simply stretch, alone with thoughts of the impending season.
Upstairs, fans queued up long before the doors will open renew acquaintances and marvel at how children have grown since last year.
"It's really a special environment," coach Bill Beaney says. "It's friends meeting friends after not having seen each other for a while. It's the anticipation of a new season, of everybody starting off with a perfect slate. Opening day is special, so full of promise."
Seated on the floor at the head of the line waiting to enter the arena are Martha and Richard Venne of Salisbury, Vt., along with Martha's son, 12-year-old Will Varno.
"We like to sit behind the home bench because Willis likes to lean over the glass and listen to the coach," Martha Venne says. "We get the same seats pretty much every game except sometimes in the playoffs."
Although Kenyon seating is general admission an informal protocol has developed over the years.
"Seats have kind of been reserved through continual usage," explains Beaney. "If you are there early and the other person is not, you don't sit in their seat. Not that it always works 100 percent."
Mike Funk of New Haven, Vt., isn't taking chances. He's placed newspaper sections over seven top-row seats for friends. "It's not preplanned which of them will sit where," he says, "but you don't want someone who leans sitting next to you."
With 20 minutes to go before faceoff and the crowd filing in, bits and pieces Mike McGill's WCAX-TV standup drift over the hum in the corner of the stands. "The Panthers don't take anyone lightly, knowing as the champs they get everyone's 'A' game," McGill says in a TV voice back to the studio.
While McGill finishes up young eyes return to the ice where Butch Atkins is celebrating 25 years aboard the Middlebury Zamboni. "The main thing is you don't want to pay attention to the fans watching you when you are out there," he will explain later. "I'll flash my lights and wave to the kids once in a while, but you've got to pay attention."
At the Center for the Arts a short walk away, meanwhile, Sally Swallow is finishing her half hour of scales and exercises in preparation for singing both Oh Canada and The Star Spangled Banner.
"The American National Anthem is more challenging musically," she explains. "I think it's important to remain true to the music that was written, but I like to bring some of myself to it. It's amazing hearing the arena humming along."
Well before applause drowns out Swallow's final notes, the teams are champing at the bit to get going. "Doing both anthems takes a little longer, so you are trying to focus your energy that whole time," says senior Brett Shirreffs. "Then you try to let it really go in the first couple of shifts."
Before they do, Beaney savors a moment with his thoughts.
"I try to look around and take it all in," he says. "It's a healthy thing to do. To really step back and say, 'You know, this is a special day and a really special place.' "
The student section at the southwest end of Kenyon has started to chant, "Midd, Midd, Midd," and is still filling in when a Ryan Seavy goal at 14:43 of the first period elicits a roar. With that, senior Leland Davis of Middlebury takes a lap around the Kenyon concourse carrying a large "M" flag. When Shirreffs scores a few minutes later Davis -- dressed in white shorts over black spandex pants, a Middlebury hockey sweater, cape and white bandana -- takes off again, a trailing group of children turning him into a blue-and-white Pied Piper.
Davis is leaning over the railing sucking wind when Mack Cummins makes it 3-0 just 36 seconds after Shirreffs' goal.
"This is my third season doing this," he says between periods. "After Mike Kirkland graduated somebody had to step up. Nobody did, so I said, 'Why not me?'
"I grew up coming to games here. It's the thing to do on a Friday night."
While a parade of junior-high girls strolls the concourse between the second and third periods, Will Varno and his buddies play "kick" hockey on the tile floor outside the Kenyon kitchen.
Nearby sophomore Natalie Komrovsky and her softball teammates smile their way through the between-periods crush at the concession stand to earn money for their spring trip. "It's fun," she says. "It can get kind of crazy during the guys games but I love it and it helps us go to Florida."
At ice level, veteran timekeeper John Provoncha keeps the locker room apprised of the time on the board as the break winds down. "Two minutes on the clock," Provoncha shouts down the hallway. "1:30 on the clock. 1:15. Bring 'em out."
Kyle Koziara's powerplay goal with 1:39 remaining in the game sends Davis around the rink for the sixth and final time. Before he returns, the student section rattles keys, chanting, "Start up the bus."
When time runs out, seventh-year goal judge Allan Duclos relaxes. "No mistakes tonight," he says. "Sometimes you can get led by the crowd, but you can't anticipate."
Following a cool-down jog outside the locker room, the Middlebury players knot their ties and head to Kenyon Lounge for a postgame meal.
The arena is quiet now. Middlebury Sports Information Director Brad Nadeau has scurried off to file reports on the game. Radio and video crews are breaking down their equipment in the press box.
In the empty stands, members of the Middlebury crew team clean up popcorn boxes, paper cups and losing raffle tickets to pay for their spring trip to Georgia.
Deep in the bowels of the building, Tanya Lizotte goes about her business in the athletic laundry room. If things go as planned, she'll have the uniforms washed and dried by midnight. Ready to do it all again the next day.
