New England Sports (NES) Center

To many, the New England Sports (NES) Center in Marlborough, Mass, is a hockey mecca. With its 5 rinks and never ending array of tournaments and other events, its hard to play hockey in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, Vermont or Maine without a periodic visit to NES.  In fact, for the serious hockey player, NES plays host to a steady stream of showcase tournaments, most notably the Beantown Classic in the summer and spring.

Ice Rink or Airport?

And all of that is just unfortunate.

NES is to your hometown rink what a huge, dirty shopping mall is to a small town store.  It is a Walmart compared to a mom and pop shop.  It is a Mega-Taco Bell when you crave a good diner.

Other than the fact that it has a ton of hockey and a relatively decent pro shop, there is nothing to recommend this place. It has the feel of an beat-up major metropolitan airport (think NYC's LaGuardia), and the place has what is essentially a main concourse that might as well be an airport.. The locker rooms are small and dank; it is hard to find them and doing sooften requires going up and down a series of staircases.

Meanwhile, the ice is just plain cruddy.

And good luck if you need some help.  The good folks of NES Center might as well be operating a factory for all the customer care they offer (again, with the notable exception of the pro shop).  Surly doesn't capture the feeling; it is more of a numb-disinterested-and-not-to-be-bothered affect.

So, if you think that NES Center is a place to visit and a hockey heaven . . . . Think again.  NES Center is a place to be avoided, and, when that's not possible, a place to be endured.

Note:  On this date, "Henderson Has Scored for Canada." 

Ocean Ice Palace (a/k/a Brick Ice Rink), Brick, NJ

The large red plastic sign on top of the building -- a reminder of bowling alley design from the 60's -- says it all: Ice Rink.

And that's pretty much the whole deal here at the Ocean Ice Palace in Brick, NJ. 

A simple old-style rink dropped next to a divided highway along side a bunch of strip malls. Inside is a beat up old hockey hut (this isn't any palace) with a real snack bar (lousy coffee served by a snarling rink rat) and a more than decent pro shop (Ocean Hockey Shop).  Most importantly, the stuff that  matters is perfect. A nice, hard smooth sheet of ice. Excellent lighting. Decent elevated concrete bleachers that hang over the ice -- actually, it is flush with the top of the the plexiglass  -- and walls that drip with home town nostalgia and a sense of hockey lore. There are retired numbers, championship banners, a Hans Brinker Award and ancient newspaper clippings.  Plus, the rink manager's office is decked out with old leather skates and other memorabilia that seems to date from the 1970s and before.

Inside the Brick Ice Arena (note bleachers on left)

 When I asked the guy who runs the place when it was built, he said sometime in the 1960s. He then gratuitously added with a degree of pride, "think it's cold now (in September), come back in the winter."

The Ocean Ice Palace is the real deal. A sanctuary of quiet contemplation and renewal as well as a home for a loud, robust game of hockey. There may be hope left.

Hammocks Park Ice Rink, Mamaroneck, NY

In the midst of the wealthy village of Mamaroneck, NY, perched on the Long Island Sound, sits the Hammocks Park Ice Rink. Although surrounded by a beautiful park, groomed soccer fields and a pristine middle school, the rink is no more than an aluminum pole barn with a sheet of ice dropped in the middle. The place feels like an afterthought.

Dark and dank doesn't quite capture the feel of the place. By my count, a full third of the overhead lights were either burned out or not turned on. A couple of bulletin boards contained postings for some upcoming events but most already passed, and clippings curiously detailing losing efforts by the home town Mamaronek Tigers.

Efforts to to locate a sign or plaque disclosing anything about the history or age of the rink were pointless. I found nothing, and no one at the rink had any information to offer -- which pretty much says it all.

Meanwhile, numerous signs proclaimed that the shrubberies and flowers that adorned the sides of the rink was the work of Larchmont Nurseries.What can you say about a rink that seems to take more pride in the foliage that adorns the side of the building than it does in the activities on the inside?  Don't get me wrong: the ice wasn't bad, but this is a rink without warmth and energy.  No heart; no home; no solace.. 

Landscaping.? Is this what Matters in Mamaronek?

Set Back on The Road to Wellness: My Weekend in Oaks, PA (part 1)

I spent the weekend at a youth hockey tournament in Oaks, Pennsylvania at the Center Ice Family Skating Center.

The tournament itself was a pay-the-fee / play-the-games affair. This was no state tournament or league championship or even annual gathering of teams playing for bragging rights. Outside the event itself, the whole thing was meaningless.  Given that the tournament operator had made zero effort to ensure any kind of balance among the competition, it was fairly clear from the outset which 2 teams would advance to the finals and which team would win there.  So what you had were five unequal teams that did not know each other and in all probability would never see each other again, battling for a large plastic trophy.


But kids are kids, and this group seemed particularly intent on the suspension of critical analysis in the pursuit of the illusion of competition.  In fact, the pint sized Sean Averys and Daniel Carcillos battled as if it all really mattered.  They cheap-shotted their opponents with abandon and complained about the officiating even though there were no controversial calls. And the parents parroted the kids, bellowing with both joy and displeasure from the stands.  If you didn't watch what was happening on the ice, or see the scoreboard or understand the meaninglessness of the affair, you would have thought that something very real and very meaningful was on the line. 

When it was all over and the trophy was bestowed upon the winners in what was more of a hand-off than a ceremony, a few kids wept and several kissed the trophy as if it was Lord Stanley's Cup. Meanwhile, the parents of the winners rushed to take their digital photos. Then the triumphant set off on what was intended to be a victory lap, savoring their ersatz accomplishment. Unfortunately, the lap was not to be.  The Zamboni driver had his orders, repeatedly honked his horn and pulled out onto the ice, blocking the kids and making clear his intention to resurface at any cost. The kids were oblivious, but the coaches got the message and herded their players off the rink.


I want to believe that redemption and renewal can be found among kids who revel in the pure pleasure of the game of hockey. This weekend proved that while that may be so, it is not always so.

Where have all the ponds gone?

Eat Pray Love .... Shoot Score

I wish Parise would shoot.