Hendrickson Foundation Hockey Festival: Rich in Stories, Characters.
The assignment seemed easy. Go to Championship Sunday at the Hendrickson Foundation National Hockey Festival, “find a story and write 600 words.”
There was a slight problem. I’d been at the National Sports Center’s Super Rink for about three minutes, saw a family adorned in green “Crosby” Wild jerseys and I’d already found my story (more on them soon). And then another.
See, if I found one story, I couldn’t introduce you to Danny Hendrickson. Danny, along with brother Darby, is carrying on the legacy of their dad Larry - a “hockey luminary” as Danny explains it. “We didn’t lose him, he went to a different place.”
This is the seventh year of “HendyFest” as they call it. They hosted 1,300 athletes and 76 teams from 16 states across several divisions in Sled Hockey, Warrior Hockey, Special Hockey, Deaf and Hard of Hearing Hockey and Blind Hockey.
Danny takes over as Mayor of Blaine for the weekend. And what he won’t tell you is the entire tournament is free - not just for the spectators. Said Minnesota Special Hockey Co-Founder Jane Cashin: “That they don’t charge people to come here is crazy. You pay a lot of money to play at these festivals.” Good for Gary played a Saturday night concert. Free food from Famous Dave’s for all. This all thanks to sponsors like Frankie and David Lenzmeier, whose companies The Humble Goat and Milk Specialties Global have supported since the beginning. “We have nothing in our lives to complain about,” Frankie told me.
“It’s not about the Hendricksons,” explains Danny. “There are so many different stories and families who say you don’t understand what this weekend means to my son or daughter - their son or daughter may be 13 or 30.”
Or nine.
Imagine writing one 600 word story and never meeting the Keuzenhorst family from Iowa. Nine-year-old Claire is non verbal. Her mom Kate said “There really is no name for her diagnosis.”
But once Claire took the ice for the first time, everything changed. “We took her off the ice after 30 minutes to see how she was doing and she got very angry. She spoke, repeating after us, saying ‘ice,’ ‘sled,’ and ‘hockey.’”
Claire can even recognize and read the word “ice” on road signs now. “She’s made so much progress this year,” Kate explained. “She doesn’t even qualify for summer school anymore.”
Festival weekend is as much for the families as it is for the players, though. “Our daughter finally has friends,” Kate said. “I have people I can talk to, the team parents are very supportive.
Being a special needs parent you never expect to hear your kid’s name being called. To hear her name being announced and the whole rink is cheering. It’s amazing.”
If I had just one story to tell, I may not be able to let you meet the Crosby family from River Falls. Before Danny made me Assistant Mayor and introduced me to anyone I wanted to talk to, I meekly approached this adorable family wearing Crosby “3” Wild jerseys.
A jersey foul? No.
Seven-year-old Parker’s interest in sled hockey is new, and it’s become a family affair. His dad Matt gets to push Parker around on the ice - Matt has no hockey background. “I’m learning with him. He’s grown so much in the past six to eight months, it’s been amazing,” Matt said.
Don’t think this weekend is all about the kids. The Minnesota Warriors team is one of the most inspiring stories. These veterans do not do anything partially. The first thing you see in the parking lot is their giant tailgate. Imagine missing out on their story.
I asked ringleader Chad Daniels, a man with a beard ZZ Top would be jealous of, how many beers they went through in two nights. “A lot of cases,” Chad said with a chuckle, noting at least one of those cases emptied in the one hour that Wild defenseman Jake Middleton was there Saturday. “And a few bottles of whiskey.”
Chad’s from Grand Rapids, grew up a rink rat and played beer league hockey in 2008. “I retired from hockey for 14 years,” he said. “They needed a goalie for the Iron Range team. I said ‘I’m old and fat now.’ They said ‘You’re one of the best goalies we’ve ever had.’ So I went back, because a lot of the players on my team I served with, in the National Guard and overseas. People said you’re going to die. One year ago was my first tournament back, and now I’m 50 pounds down and loving it. We cry together. We win together. That’s what hockey’s about though, right?”
You think just the people on the ice are rewarded this weekend? Think again.
If I could tell you only one story, I’d have missed out on “Coach Coonan.” Steve is how I know him. Steve grew up playing for the Junior L.A. Kings. He played junior hockey in Boston. “My only regret is it took me so long to wind up in Minnesota,” he joked.
Officially, Steve coaches the Blind Hockey team - it’s affiliated with the Minnesota Wild. But what doesn’t Steve do for this community, really?
Steve’s top Blind Hockey team was short a player - he suited up. “Talk about equity and trying to understand perspective as they’re playing,” said Steve, who owns his own therapy dog business in the Twin Cities. “It was really inspiring for me as someone who’s never really laced them up and ripped it out there with them. “
“Our players live a really isolated life. They come to the rink and they feel like they’re part of something. They don’t have a disability, they’re hockey players.”
You think playing hockey without your sight is challenging? How about without your hearing? Lincoln Steinberg is eight, and plays for the Minnesota Wild Deaf and Hard of Hearing team. “This season was really amazing,” his mom Carla said. ”We’re a Gopher family. He got to practice at Mariucci, he got to meet players. Also, just getting to see that he's not the only one with a hearing loss that's in sports.”
But Steve was on the bench for the Special Hockey games, too. At least, when he wasn’t chasing down this reporter with another story to tell.
“With great wealth comes great responsibility,” he explained. “We have the highest hockey wealth market. Not in money, but IQ and acumen.”
Steve introduces me to Sammy Cashin - his mom Jane co-founded Minnesota Special Hockey in 2016. “I play defense,” Sammy said. “I love passing the puck to younger kids learning how to play hockey.” Sammy’s brother-in-law? None other than Carolina Hurricanes defenseman Jake Gardiner.
Jane says Sammy is “a man of few words.” But not when he’s volunteering at the merchandise booth. Sammy can sell, and he did sell me.
And this story couldn’t be told without “Tara Bear.” She’s a goalie on the Special team. “I wasn’t very good at hockey,” said Tara, who handpainted her mask. “I play floor hockey with Special Olympics, and a few of my friends and teammates play Special Hockey, so I decided to join.”
“We always want to win, but I also like to see especially some of the lower ability players, I like to see them get goals,” she continued. “I don’t make it real easy for them, but I also don’t make it real hard for them.”
Said Special Hockey Board Member Tom Schuneman; his daughter Maggie plays on the team: “What would they be doing if we didn’t have this opportunity for them? For the groups that are here, the camaraderie off the ice is as important as the games on. It’s a great weekend of competitiveness and sportsmanship.”
I was about time to wrap up my story, chatting with another Coach friend of Steve - Brooke Schugel played hockey at UMD and is loving her time on the bench as part time cheerleader, and part time traffic director.
Coach Coonan sprints over as the game is about to start. “You have to hear about Klaus…” He was born in 2006 with a rare disease called Ataxia Telangiectasia. He outgrew his walker he used to play hockey this past year. So his uncle Juston - with his help - built him a contraption made out of steel in his garage to help him compete.
I attended championship Sunday and have yet to mention a final score. Yes, there are championships to be won - a heavyweight belt, to be precise. The Special teams play a round robin - there’s no winner, but Coach Coonan said “there are several players we can’t say that to.”
The Wild and Little Avalanche - the latter led by a center wearing No. 24 with the last name Hubbard with deep Minnesota ties - played a Sled Hockey Final as intense as any Stanley Cup playoff game between those two teams. It was just another example of the magic of championship Sunday at the Hendrickson Festival.
“Hockey Changes Lives” - it’s the Hendrickson Foundation motto, and while a big time marketing agency was in the room, the words came out of Larry’s mouth. And this past weekend, hockey changed more lives than the 1,300 on the ice. To donate, click here.
NETWORK PARTNERS