The Hockey Life: Week 10

I often preach about the existence of Hockey Gods, how it seems like they smile upon us from time to time. Over the years, from all of the hounding we've done to Colin's fledgling hockey career, there are simply times when something positive has happened that, to me, was the result of divine intervention.

I know I'm not alone in these beliefs, too. This month's poll, for example, asks Hound Central 5.0 readers whether they believe in Hockey Gods. With only a few days remaining, it's comforting to see that an overwhelming number of you do, indeed, share in my belief.

For those doubters, and I do respect your opinion, I offer an example of why I believe.

Yesterday, just like the rest of you, we celebrated Christmas. We opened presents as, thankfully, Santa was once again very kind to us. Once all of the wrapping paper was picked up, we set about to have a relaxing day.

Part of the plan was to visit a beach down here in Hockey Bay. Though playing in the snow or gathering around a roaring fireplace appeals to childhood memories, we made the best of Christmas in Florida. Rather than snow, we had white sand. The sound of waves replaced the crackling of logs. An elaborate sand castle, built my someone else, brought back memories of snow forts.

After a 25-minute ride, crossing the Tom Stuart Causeway over the intracoastal waterway, we ended up at the beach in Treasure Island. We spent about an hour there, looking at high-flying kites and combing the water's edge for shells as the sun began its slow descent to the horizon. On our way back to the parking lot, we passed other families who also made the beach part of their Christmas festivities.

Just as sand turned to concrete sidewalk, I saw another family, much like ours, getting ready to hit the beach -- a father, mother and a child. As we got closer, I thought I recognized the father. A few more steps only confirmed that feeling.

It was Pavel Kubina, a defenseman for the Tampa Bay Lightning, with his wife and child. They were getting bundled up against the cool northeast wind, likely getting ready to take in a Christmas Day sunset.

"Merry Christmas, Pavel," I said.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," he replied, smiling at Lisa, wearing her Hockey Bay hoodie and Marty St. Louis hat, and Colin.

There we were, two hockey families, meeting by chance at a beach in Florida on Christmas Day. One family, the Kubinas, is enjoying life in the NHL. Another family -- ours -- hopes to realize that in the years ahead.

On Christmas, a day of dreams, I didn't take the crossing of paths as sheer coincidence or random luck. No, my friends, I took it as a yet another sign on our journey with Colin. And that's why I believe.

Thank you, Hockey Gods.