I am a junior hockey fan. More specifically, I am an Owen Sound Attack fan. Most importantly, I am a fan of kids chasing their dreams, putting in the work and making sacrifices many of us can’t quite imagine as they try to reach a top tier league that very few will ever be lucky enough to lace up for.

I am also a photographer for the team and I have a blog of my own (you are here) where I try to give people a glimpse into the personalities of the players on this team. I stand by the glass and I tell stories with photos. Sometimes they are hard stories, sometimes they are easy stories, sometimes they are just simple games. I am lucky to be at the Bayshore for most home games. I am lucky to ride the bus maybe once a year and I am lucky to be treated as part of this team.

Today, after a tough loss last night, I realize I’m lucky too that I am not interesting enough for anyone to post a four-page thread about what’s wrong with me on social media. I’m lucky that my personal inbox isn’t full of direct messages from fans wondering what’s wrong with me, wondering why I’m not enough, wondering why I did what I did on the ice in a split second decision. Maybe if I post this, my luck will run out and I will be opening myself up to a steady stream of criticism and critique too. Well, so be it.

When I shoot home games, there is a couple who sits near me who have had season tickets for several decades. They are perhaps the calmest and kindest fans I’ve ever met. In my eyes, if you’ve been sitting in these seats for that long, you have the experience to know how to ride out the storms that are part of a junior hockey season. I am new, I get emotional when things are going wrong, I get more emotional when things are going right, and I have yet to earn my status as a franchise fan who appreciates the show week in and week out, year after year, without quickly passing judgement. I am too close to be impartial, but at least I know it.

I am not saying there’s a right or wrong way to be a fan. But I am saying that, at times, I think people forget that the words they type on a forum, on social media or in a direct message matter. If you send an NHL player a DM, there’s probably a publicist replying and deciding if that message ever makes it to the player themself. In this league, one of the best things we have is up close and personal access to the players on this team. They are out for breakfast in our neighbourhoods, they’re playing floor hockey with your kids at school, they are at the local hospice making someone’s bad day better. But what we also have is a kind of online access that can go too far very quickly. The boys regularly speak about mental health at the local schools. They struggle with what’s said online. They hear it, they hear about it and they see it. So don’t look you say? And, I ask, how’s that going for you? Like it or not, in this day and age, it is something they will have to learn to manage if they go on to be professional athletes. But for now, they are not professional athletes; they are just young men making their way.

We are lucky to have hockey of this calibre as a weekly entertainment option here in Owen Sound. We are lucky that some of our boys will go on to play in the NHL and that we’ll get to say we knew them when. We are lucky to watch a season unfold live right before our eyes. But make no mistake, we don’t get to dictate how things go. We don’t get to know what’s said behind closed doors. In the era of social media, I appreciate that fans have more room for online discussion than ever before. It’s become part of how you experience the season and the game. I know, I am complicit when I make my post game photo posts. I editorialize, I give my own input and I tell the story how I see it. What we don’t have is a right to impact people’s mental health just to get our own anger and frustration out. We  have the power to take a deep breath and decide if what we’re about to say, in person or online, is the right move.

Junior hockey isn’t all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. If it were, we probably wouldn’t show up. It’s fist fights, and big hits, team celebrations and poorly-timed suspensions and penalty shots that make you want to cry. Those emotions are why you show up, why you want to know what will happen at the next game and why you care where these players will end up next week and next year.

The bottom line is sports are about people. Every player in the lineup is a person who deserves your respect. We’ve got four home games (and four on the road) left to decide our playoff fate. And here’s where the sunshine and rainbows come in. Bring your signs (profanity-free), fire up those obnoxious red horns, send your kids to the players tunnel for high fives, maybe log out of social media for a bit. We’re in the home stretch and there’s a story waiting to unfold. If there’s even a chance you can play a positive role with this team, isn’t that worth a try? As I hear on a nightly basis at the Bayshore, just take the damn shot.