late-afternoon stop at the rink proved to be quite instructive this week.

Here in hockey-mad Prince George — we have two very successful junior teams, have I mentioned that recently? — at least one of our six ice surfaces is busy year-round. So a gaggle of five- and six-year-olds chasing a puck around the ice is a not uncommon sight in this town.

Their play was typical of players at that age. Positional play was non-existent; their idea of "left wing" was the west side of a north-bound duck. Scrambly? Beaten eggs had more form. They were like ... well ... you get the picture.

Standing on the periphery of the chaos were several adults, coaches no doubt. They barked instructions at the players — oh did they bark instructions. "Go to the net," one repeated over and over. "Get in the open," yelled another, as if "the open" existed in the melee. "Pass! Pass!" yelled a third.

Continued...