It all started after a couple of glasses of wine, on a combined work trip M and I took back in October. The stars had aligned and we both had to be in two areas of the province and decided to make a mini-getaway of it. I was lying on the bed at the Digby Pines while M showered before dinner.

“I’m happy to volunteer as team manager,” my email said. “Let me know if you need anything imminently.”

I hit send and broke the news to M that I’d volunteered to be the U18 hockey team’s manager. I know how hard it is to get volunteers and that things tend to drop off at this age. I also know how important it is to keep young people involved and engaged in sport during these years.

Within a few days, I had also completed Coach 2, Safety Trainer, and my advanced first aid recertification. I shifted suddenly from the team manager who’d send a few emails and book a few hotel blocks to a one-woman hockey team staff.

Becoming Coach Ashley, especially at this stage and skill level of sport, wasn’t on my Bingo card. My players are faster, stronger, bigger, and better players than I could ever have dreamt to be. I felt like a fraud. And I told them as much.

And d’ya know what? It actually worked really well.

They didn’t care that I couldn’t skate faster than them. They loved it that I laced up and hit the ice, usually in M’s old gloves and with one of Soupie’s too small sticks. As the season went on, they opened up to me about their wants, wishes, big dreams, and fears.

I sat with players while they cried.

I laughed until my sides hurt alongside them.

And they all taught me so much.

On Wednesday night, after an impressive run in the playoffs, we were eliminated in a 3-on-3 overtime with what I will admit was a BEAUTY of a goal. As we gathered on the ice as a team, and I looked into the teary eyes of my players, I felt a pang of sadness I really hadn’t prepared myself for. This was it. That was the last time we were going to play together as this team. For three players, it was the end of minor hockey as a player.

The hardest part of sport is that the teams can’t stay the same forever. We develop friendships with the players and their families over a few short months and then, poof. The season ends and everyone goes back to their regularly programmed lives away from rinks and tournament schedules.

The day after our elimination, I registered for more advanced coaching certifications.

The volunteer position I didn’t want turned out to be one of the best things I’ve ever done. The thing I never imagined I’d do is something I can’t imagine not doing again.