They're all into the game

By JOHN A. LEWIS
Burlington County Times

Playground, proving ground, battleground.It's occasionally all of those things.Ultimately, though, how you define the venue doesn't really matter.When you look at the bigger picture, you find it's the people there who make it what it is, and it's one of those people who came up with the perfect name for it:
The hockey breakfast club.There are lawyers, truck drivers, engineers, students and insurance men. There are often women among the some-time players, first-year players and big-time prospects.There are a few who aren't old enough to vote, and technically this shouldn't happen. It's supposed to be an 18-and-over crowd, but if you're home for the summer from Thornhill, Ontario, where you've been playing junior hockey for the last six months, chances are you'll find the high school crowd a little tame.There are others nearing retirement age.
This is how open hockey works: everyone puts on a jersey - either black or white, because that's going to define which team you play for. Many players bring one of each color, just to keep the teams even. Some lazier just wear a different color. If you're wearing red or green, they say, you can step in where you're needed.You're on the ice at around 6:15 a.m. on Tuesday or Thursday, or at 7:15 Saturday or Sunday. You stretch your legs, check your edges, warm up the goalie, and then someone yells "let's go," and a player near center ice dumps the puck into the other team's end.Game on.When your turn comes, you take a shift. When you're tired, your shift is over.It shouldn't surprise anyone that it's simple love of hockey that brings people out here at this hour - especially people who are going to go to the locker room before the end of the session, shower, put on business suits and head off to put in a workday.
"I've been playing ice hockey about seven years," said Ronald "Woody" Woodmansee, 43, of Marlton. "When I was 35, I started playing roller hockey. After about two years, I looked into playing on ice, and I never looked back. I'm masochistic, for one thing. But really, I just love the game. It's my sanity, really. It keeps my stress level down."Woodmansee is an insurance broker who owns his own business, Fuller, Woodmansee & Co. Inc.., of Moorestown. He's also a coach at the middle school and high school levels at Cherokee."I'm kind of a utility coach," he said.He was also the player who took it upon himself to move the session, when compressor problems temporarily shut down the rinks in Pennsauken. Woodmansee e-mailed everyone on his list, and there was a 12-man Thursday session at the Mount Laurel Igloo.That's a light turnout for a Thursday, but at least the club -
or as Mark Adams, a 46-year-old truck mechanic from Med-ford called it, the "subculture" - got a skate in. After three sessions on Fostertown road, the club moved back to Pennsauken. It's an easier commute for the crew from Philadelphia."The challenge is what brings you back," Adams said. "To put all the skills together that you need to accumulate - you never stop picking stuff up. You can never say you've done it and move on to the next thing. There's always something new to learn."Adams came to a Sunday session on July 25 with his daughter Megan, 11 - who joined the three-goalie rotation and more than held her own between the pipes. 
"There's an adrenaline rush that you love," Megan Adams said. "You get used to getting hit with the puck, and it's fun. I like playing with adults even better. Kids are wimpy."Megan is purely in the "proving ground" group. She tried out at Mount Laurel and wasn't assigned to a team."Sudsy (Dave Settlemyre, the Igloo's general manager and hockey coordinator) said he'd love to put her on a team, but he was afraid she'd get lit up," Mark Adams said."I'd like to go back and show 'im now," Megan added.Love of the game is just part of it, though.Seeing those same guys, three or four times a week, creates an atmosphere of respect that plays an equally big role in bringing people back.
"To tell you the truth, I haven't come for about a month," said Larry Capraro, 45, after that same Sunday session. "But I had to come back. It's not like I suddenly felt like I had to go play hockey, but it's your friends out here. It's your buds."Don't be deceived. This doesn't mean there's no spirit of competition. Sometimes sticks get a little high, bodies go hard into the boards, words are exchanged, and occasionally - though it hasn't happened in the last six months or so - gloves get dropped.Much more often, though, it follows a pattern: there's some hard play, some trash talk, and for a new player as he comes off the ice, maybe a few pointers from someone more traveled."There's a camaraderie," Mark Adams said. "There's just something about playing ice hockey. You're an individual with the puck, but you're part of a team, too. There are breaks when you come off the ice and you're looking at people playing, and you realize - not many people can do this.
""The best part of being out there is, Joe (Viola) will say 'gotcha' when he hooks your stick at just the right time," Capraro said. "When you play to your potential, you can make a play and for a second, be better than one of the good guys. When I can make a play on Chris Young and say 'gotcha,' that's when I'm having a great time."Young, 41, seems to be the measuring stick for everyone.The Medford native is the operations manager at the corporate facility for Recon Auto-motive. With high school, college and junior professional hockey under his belt, there's also little doubt he's the most skilled player on the ice every Tuesday and Thursday.Fortunately, he's got just the right outlook to go along with that skill. Some people get worked up about the competitive side of open hockey and forget that not everyone on the ice has 20 years of ice time behind him.Young is never one of these people. If you're open, he'll pass you the puck. If you're new and you make a big play - either with him or against him - he's the first to congratulate you.
"That's why we're there," Young said. "At open hockey, everybody can be part of the game. You've got people who've barely played, people who've played all their lives - you've got Mike (Doyle), who, God love him, goes out there on his sled and does his best."This is really about friendship and being with the guys, rather than competition, and I enjoy playing with these guys - it's a good group. Sometimes it's competitive, but usually you're out there having fun.
"E-mail: jlewis@phillyBurbs.com