Hockey Heaven: The PBR Pond Tournament

There's nothing like reminiscing about a crisp winter bluebird day on the pond after a muggy week in the 90's mid-pandemic. Fun times.

For the uninitiated, the PBR Pond Hockey Tournament is held annually around President's Day in Silverthorne, CO. The games take place on a series of frozen ponds minutes from ski resorts like Keystone and A-Basin - full blown Rockies country. For a guy like myself who hasn't played in many of these and sucks at hockey, the tournament itself feels pretty big-time. There are quite literally thousands of skaters and teams come from all over the country (and Canada) to participate. One of our squad came in from Montreal for God sake.

The games start Friday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, so if you're smart you rent a house in town beginning Thursday night. If warm weather is a concern like it was the last time I was there, you might be dropping the puck at like 6am. If that sounds like a nightmare, it's because it kind of is, depending how seriously you plan on taking the tournament. Some guys are playing to win, while others stock the car like my team did (shown right). I wouldn't have been playing in the tournament if they fell into the former category, because again, I handle the puck like I'm chopping at a garter snake with dog bone. Stay out of the way and just be happy to be there.

The idea of waking up that early after a long night sounded about as pleasant as a hand-job from a lobster, especially for a coward at my age. The juice, however, was very much worth the squeeze. After getting dressed in the massive tent that smells like King Kong Bundy's jock strap, you skate out through the PBR-branded archway down a long ice strip surrounded by probably 20+ rinks on either side. It had snowed the night before, and with a bluebird day in the 50's on the horizon, it was all hands on deck to get the rinks cleared for games as early as possible. The folks running the tournament only had a couple of Zambonis, so the the pack of whiskey-stenched zombies who remembered to set their alarms had to break out the shovels and help.

Again, this sounds laborious and terrible but I'd liken it to eating a home-cooked meal you prepared for yourself. The pride resulting from the painstaking work of 1) getting out of bed and 2) a couple shovel swipes just makes the reward taste better. Plus, standing at attention for the American and Canadian national anthems while the morning light was just beginning to peek over the hills as hundreds of skaters stood in silence was pretty goddam surreal.

As for the actual games...lots of variables here. Weather is the big one. Like all pond tournaments, the ice is pristine for the first couple of hours in the morning but can get dicey with enough sun in the afternoon. That's part of the fun because both teams are playing on it, but it adjusts your strategy. The "nets" are classic pond-hockey style; a few 2x4's nailed together with a couple of slots on either side. No goalies, no top shelf. The second variable is the team you're playing, which I would imagine is like Amsterdam's Red Light District. They're all fun, but some are gonna take it easier on you than others. Sometimes you run into an opponent who's treating it like Game 7 and the next is treating it like that boot scene in Beer Fest.

There are three (3) divisions who's names I don't recall and you don't care to hear. We were in the mid-tier division and I think ended up going like 2-2 or something like that. You have to win most of your games to advance to the playoff round on Saturday night / Sunday morning, and ties are broken by margin of defeat. Our group of friends brought two teams and only one of them made the playoffs (guess which one I was on). We were close - but the last game was a heart breaker. Our best player had so much tequila he shot the puck at his own net on the first shift and it got away from us thereafter.

The fun of the tournament is only 50% about the games anyway. There is music all over the joint and everyone is chopping it up and enjoying themselves in between games. Many of the teams are predictably dressed in elaborate uniforms or themes - I'm guessing these guys guessing decided on "Clay Aiken's Acid Trip."

Nightfall on Saturday can get straight FRIGID, but the heart is a long way from the fingertips and friendships don't have a thermometer. After a day-long at the brewery and a couple more back at the house, our band of losers made it back to the rink just in time for the start of the 2nd period to root against our guys in the playoffs.

There's usually a massive party Saturday night with some live music and about 4 girls. It was sparsely attended the year I was there due to temperatures suddenly falling into the single digits, but I've heard some pretty wild stories in years past. Champions are crowned some time Sunday afternoon and everyone continues to stick around and enjoy the scene, grill out, and hide from their families for a couple more hours. For any hockey fan/player in the continental US, I cannot recommend it enough. Barring a massive gong show on I-70 (certainly possible) it's a super convenient hour drive from Denver. Fingers crossed the Corona Monster doesn't stomp all over it this year. Christ do I miss hockey.