My very first course in college was entitled “Gravestones as Evidence of Material Culture.” It was held right before the two hour free skate period during which any student or alumnus could use the rink. Thus, I brought my ice-skates in my backpack to class.

One of my “Gravestones” classmates was a member of a co-ed Society I would rush much later in the year. Another of my classmates was a member of the esteemed women’s hockey team. I wonder if she ever noticed the skates in my bag?

I went to the free skate religiously. I skated around in circles while listening to the cheesy music the on-duty guard provided. Some days were busier than others, but for the most part I had the rink to myself. I practiced crossovers, taught myself to skate backwards, and then began doing backwards crossovers.

I had huge thigh and knee bruises from my efforts, but I quickly learned to maneuver well while traveling backwards. In fact, I became faster and more accurate while traveling backwards than forwards.

Towards the end of each session, the women on the team would arrive to begin their practice. At that point, I’d try to show off as much as possible. Of course, that was a ridiculous idea since these gals were too accomplished to care about some random newbie player.

Frequently I’d stay past the end of free skate so I could watch practice. I attended several of the women’s games. The crowd was miniscule compared to these gals’ talent. I wonder how many people realized they could have seen future Olympians for free?

One day during free skate, I met a tall awkwardly-skating young man. He asked me if I was on the women’s team.

I laughed a little, but admitted that I hadn’t ever actually played hockey. Sure, I had the skates, but really I was just going around in circles for the exercise.

He invited me to join his intramural team. I was flattered and excited. We became “The Luthers.” Creative naming, that, as this guy’s name is Luther.

On our team were a few women, but mostly men. We played against teams that were mostly men. Of course I was the tiniest. But that made the whole situation hilarious.

I didn’t have the right equipment. It took a few trips to the sports store before I finally had enough padding.

The helmets provided by the school were enormous and beat-up. I bought my own.

The gloves the men would lend to each other were similarly huge. I bought some excellent leather-lined ones.

I bought a stick I sawed down with a kitchen knife, lots of tape and junior-sized shin/knee guards.

I put all my hockey gear in a very large tote bag that I wore backpack-style. It would be years before I had a “real” hockey bag.