Beuks,
It’s been a while man.
It feels like yesterday that you were manning the bench for Team Canada Red at the World Junior Jewish Hockey Championships. The summer of 2009 was unsurprisingly your first visit to the ‘Holy Land’ (Israel, of course), and your monstrous 6’5, 230 pound frame was very daunting to my Jewish teammates and I.
And from what I recall things between us got off on the wrong foot.
If I’m remembering things right, you and Team Canada White coach Steve Thomas (for our readers, yes, the former NHLer) were furious with me after I got lost at the Western Wall with a couple of buddies. But my huge jibs and infectious smile quickly won you over. Before we knew it I was standing on chairs and giving you noogie sandwiches.
We quickly became pals.
For those readers unfamiliar with the tournament, here’s a bit of a rundown. Four teams, two from Canada, one from the USA and one from Israel participated in a World Juniors style tournament run by the IIHF. The Canadian participants were originally invited to try-outs in Toronto earlier in the summer and were eventually divided into two teams; White and Red. The former was comprised of primarily Ontario hockey players whereas the latter was made up of mostly Western Canadians. As one of the four Winnipegers to make Team Red, I quickly noticed we were one of the weakest teams in the tournament. But that didn’t stop us from pulling off one of the biggest upsets in Jewish hockey history (yes, I just said that).
Isn’t that right Beuks?
Do you remember how much we hated the Americans? How they whipped our @$$es 7-2 in round-robin play and obnoxiously rubbed it in our faces on the kibbutz (basically a hotel in Israel)? Well, we wiped those cocky smirks off their faces pretty good.
I’ll never forget it. We entered our semi-final match against them as huge underdogs. They had some sick NAHL player with one of the worst fish bowls known to mankind and I’m pretty sure we had scored six goals in our previous three games. Everyone counted us out except for you Beuks. You were like a young Herb Brooks out their just waiting to make your mark on the Jewish community. After a passionate speech, you led the boys onto the ice in what would turn out to be a game for the ages.
After a hard fought third period the game was tied and momentum was on our side. No one scored in overtime so things had to get settled in a shootout. You didn’t let me shoot but as a stay-at-home defenceman with dusty mitts I understood. Shooter after shooter went and we found a way to take the lead.
The game fittingly came down to fishy vs. our goaltender Max Benitah, who at this point was having the game of his life. As he hit the blue line I nearly soiled myself (my Colitis didn’t help at the time either). But true to form, Max made the save and it led to the greatest Jewish miracle since the Maccabees.
What a time to be alive.
As our team rushed the ice after the save, I came up to you like a young Charlie Conway, gave you a huge hug and yelled “do you believe in Jewish miracles.” I cried after. I cried.
Beuks, I hope this finds you well. If you don’t remember the game (or me for that matter) then that’s cool, I just wanted to remind you about the greatest hockey moment of my life.
L’Chaim baby!!!!
- Jesse
