4,212 Hours and Counting
They say parenthood is a marathon, not a sprint. But sometimes, it feels more like an endless overtime period in a hockey game. Over nine years, my son’s passion for ice hockey transformed my life into a series of rink-side vigils, totaling an astonishing 4,212 hours. That’s 175 days of shivering in Swiss rinks.
Weekends? They were defined by the roar of the crowd and the scrape of skates. I could write a guidebook: ‘Switzerland’s Rinks and Cafes: A Hockey Parent’s Survival Guide.’ It’s a dedication many sports parents understand, the unwavering commitment to our kids’ dreams.
Now he’s making his own way, chasing his own hockey dreams. But old habits die hard. I still find myself bleary-eyed at 3 a.m., watching his games streamed from who-knows-where.
From Swiss Rinks to Litoměřice: A Hockey Adventure
One particular journey stands out. My son’s first international tournament in Litoměřice, Czech Republic. At nine years old, he was about to step onto a bigger stage, and so was I. The eight-hour bus ride, a mix of excited chatter and parental anticipation, took us 980 km from Lausanne, Switzerland, to a town steeped in history.
Before we arrived, I did my homework. Litoměřice, I learned, was a medieval gem, a place where Gothic spires met Baroque facades, and wine flowed from centuries-old vineyards. The shadow of Theresienstadt (Terezín) nearby reminded us of a darker chapter in history.
A Renaissance Stay and Culinary Delights
Our home for three nights was the Grandhotel Salva, a Renaissance palace right in the heart of the historic square. The contrast between the ancient architecture and the modern buzz of a hockey tournament was fascinating.
And the food! Coming from Switzerland, the prices were a delightful surprise. We feasted in the historic cellar of Radniční sklípek, where traditional Czech cuisine met modern flair. The grilled wine sausage, Opečená vinná klobása, with its creamy mashed potatoes and tangy pickled cucumber, was a revelation. And the way it paired with the local beer!
Evenings were spent in local bars, bonding with fellow parents over pints of Czech beer. We shared stories, laughed, and forged friendships that transcended national borders. These moments, as much as the games, made the trip unforgettable.
The Electric Atmosphere of International Hockey
The tournament itself was a whirlwind of excitement. The opening ceremony, with national anthems echoing through the arena, was a powerful reminder of the international spirit of the event. Parents transformed into a loud and enthusiastic cheering squad, banging drums and singing their hearts out.
While we reveled in the atmosphere, the players and coaches were laser-focused. For them, it was about competition, strategy, and pushing their limits. The intensity was palpable.
More Than Just a Game
Looking back, those 4,212 hours weren’t just about hockey. They were about being present, learning the rhythm of a sport, a community, and a lifestyle. They were about adapting: finding warmth in cold rinks, discovering new towns through spontaneous café stops, and embracing the unpredictability of each game.
In many ways, it reminds me of my work in design. Just like a hockey game, every project has its structure, but the magic happens in the in-between moments: the unexpected turns, the adjustments, the collaboration.
That’s what sticks with me the most, not just the hours spent at the rink, but the lessons carried forward. In sports, in design, and in life, it’s all about reading the game, adapting, and showing up.
I know adventures like this very well 😉
Don’t have the courage to count my hours spent in ice rinks