A reminiscence : Generations of playing hockey on Hatch Pond

My son, Chris, is the third generation of my family to enjoy the spirit of hockey on Hatch Pond. I love it when he says, “I can’t wait to skate on the pond this winter,â€� or “Can we skate on the pond today?â€� When I hear those words,  I know I have instilled the spirit of hockey in my son, just as my father instilled the spirit of hockey in me.

When my father, Noble Richards, was a boy, he would come home from school, grab his skates and stick, head for Hatch Pond, and skate until dark.  There were no youth hockey teams at that time, but Dad and his friends would meet on the pond and play pick-up hockey for hours.

When Dad reached high school age, he decided to go to South Kent School. He played hockey with the varsity team on Hatch Pond and was captain in his senior year.

Playing hockey on the pond is considered “old-time hockey,� a saying used to describe the type of play that emphasizes passing the puck and skating hard on ponds and lakes.

After college and serving in the Air Force he returned to South Kent School to teach, coach, and raise a family.

At the age of 3, I started skating on Hatch Pond, just as my father had. Mom took my brother, Tim, and me down to the pond to skate in the afternoons while Dad was coaching. We skated around, watching Dad and the varsity hockey players practice. When I was 6, Bill McCullough, a Kent School teacher, started Kent Youth Hockey. Our first practices were at Kent School’s outdoor artificial rink. I remember after practice pulling the hose out to flood the rink to make fresh ice. As a boy, flooding the rink was great fun.

In 1966, Dad started coaching the Kent Peewee hockey team.  Dad worked his team hard and coached us well on our positioning on the ice. He taught us to skate hard, to pass the puck and to keep our heads up!

I loved to skate and play hockey and, like many kids, wanted to become a professional hockey player. I spent my free time at the rink skating with my friends. During Christmas vacations, I would call all the South Kent School “faculty brats� — as the children of teachers were known — and we would form pick-up hockey games at the school rink. We played for hours. Those games, in my opinon, exemplified the true, profound spirit of hockey.

In my freshman year at South Kent School, I made the varsity hockey team, just as my father had. My brother, Tim, was the team captain. With Dad coaching and Tim as captain, it was a memorable year for me.  

One of the best moments was in a game against Canterbury. The game was tied 3-3, and we were in sudden death overtime. Tim had the puck in the offensive corner, and I was playing defense, positioned on the blue line. I broke for the net, and Tim passed the puck to me. I shot through a maze of players in front of the net and scored! We won the game. The crowd of South Kent School students jumped on the ice to celebrate the victory.

Even today Tim and I reminisce about that great brotherly moment. We each tell the story a little bit differently, but the end is always the same. We won.  

Watching my father coach and being coached by Dad created a great father-son bond. I remember many times after a game when Dad would say to me, “Nice game!� Those two small words meant a great deal to me.

Today I am coaching my son, Chris. We are members of Kent Youth Hockey. I started him skating at age 3, just like I did. At 5, he started to skate with the Mites. Last year, Chris’s Squirt team played in the Connecticut Hockey Conference Smyth Division Tournament and won. The final game is one he will remember forever. Now at 11 he has moved up to the Pee-wee team that I coach.

Whenever the ice on the pond is good, I try to take Chris and his friends skating. I hope to instill in them the same profound spirit of hockey that my father instilled in me.

No matter where one skates, on the pond or on the rink, skating is exciting because of the speed one can achieve. This speed gives the skater a feeling of freedom that makes the spirit soar.