Cheering For The Center Box
In every ice rink, there’s a box at the center red line with the clock, something resembling a table top, and occasionally a microphone and/or music system, all covered in the cruft of graffiti, coffee stains, sandwich debris, hot chocolate spills, and fingerprints that give rinks their character. It’s the scorer’s table, and the people who occupy that box are a special breed. They have to pay as much attention to the game as any coach or on-ice official, and typically their only reward is anonymity.
There’s a reason we cheer loudly for John DeCarlo at the Rock. He’s been the Devils timekeeper for most home games since they moved to the swamp in 1982. A stand-out hockey player in his day, John went to open try outs for the expanded NHL on-ice officials pool when the Devils created the need for striped speed. He didn’t make the cut, but made the team as an off-ice official. Aside from spending many nights at South Mountain Arena (he was a former rink manager there), it’s something he and I have in common: we run a mean and lean clocking operation. Talk to people who have been to a handful of games in any Devils season, and ask if they know who runs the clock. Chances are, John DeCarlo is not a household name, which is a shame, because he’s been doing a great job with the longest tenure of anyone in the organization.
What got me started down this path? Our Hockey North America game last night at South Mountain Arena found us facing a team hot on our tail in the standings with just enough skaters to keep the lines even and shifts short. As the home team, however, we are required to provide a scorekeeper for the game; if you’re wearing white you’re also filling the center ice box. The job comes with minor compensation (you get a credit towards next season’s registration for any game you score), and we’ve had an assortment of kids, spouses, significant others, and friends run the clock on our behalf. Last night, the clock ran out on us without a timekeeper, so I faced the prospect of splitting box duties with half a game on the ice. But the true spirit of adult hockey provided the last second kick save.
One of the players from the game before us found out we needed a scorekeeper, and stayed an extra 90 minutes to work our game. The $20 in HNA credit he’ll get may or may not make up for getting home two hours later than planned, or sitting in a confined area by himself rather than at home or having a post-game beer with his linemates. But it kept 2 or 3 of us on the ice for the entire game, and for that we give a large cheer from the home bench. Adult hockey is about the guys you play with, because they set the tone for everything before, during, after and between the games.