My eldest daughter on her first to IWS

The folowing, is a link to my latest article as published on ‘Raise the Hammer’ in response to the dilemna surrounding the proposed new Hamilton stadium site.

There are some great comments following my story from many others who are dissapointed that our beloved stadium wasn’t even considered in this whole 2015 Pan Am Games process.

Below, is a video that coincides with this story. This presentation exhibits what is special about the area surrounding the current stadium, and it’s high accessibility to downtown and multiple highways.

As well,  the video shows how we could utilize adjacent lands (if we must build a new stadium), to construct a new venue in the neighborhood that Ivor Wynne currently calls home.

Original article as it appeared in The Spec

Now that Rottweilers attacked a young boy, will they be the next dogs to be muzzled or phased out?
First published in the Hamilton Spectator January 5th, 2007. Re-published with permission.

One minute. That’s all it took. Now, lives are changed forever. First and most importantly, the life of a little boy who was brutally attacked by two dogs Christmas Day, scarred physically and mentally, possibly for a lifetime. His family also changed — especially the boy’s poor mother who undeservedly blames herself for the ordeal.

It is early morning New Year’s Eve as I write this. It’s supposed to be a time of fond recollections of the year past and to look eagerly into a promising new year. A time to dream of all the wonderful memories this new beginning may bring us.

But for a little boy and his family, the memories of the very recent past are a parent’s worst nightmare come true.

Two other lives were also changed this past Christmas Day. Lives that will soon be transformed — eternally. The dreams of what the new year will bring them are not whimsical visions of chasing sticks or swimming in a lake or long car rides to far off lands. Their futures are dark. Their fate, inevitable.

Memphis and Chicago. Lying there silently in adjacent cages. They will never play together again. They each know the other is close by, but for the final days of their lives, they are left alone with nothing but their own thoughts to comfort them. No rawhides to help them forget about their troubles. No squeaky toys or shoes to chew on.  Scared and wondering what it was they did to deserve the hand they have been dealt.

You can see it in their eyes, however. They know. They remember. Those dogs understand somewhere inside that they have done something wrong. They comprehend in their abandoned hearts, that something went terribly wrong.

Yes, our concerns and prayers should be first and foremost with that poor child, but I can’t overlook the story of these two dogs.

As a dog owner and dog lover, thinking about those two souls all alone in a cage, unaware of what is in store for them, has been eating me up inside. Their fate saddens me almost as muchas the story of little Jerron.

All three of our main characters in this story are innocent.

As a new father of a four-month-old little girl, playing beside me and looking at her daddy with big beautiful blue eyes and full-faced smiles, I now know the true innocence of a child’s heart.

How they change your life and how everything suddenly becomes about them. How we, as parents, instinctively do anything in our power to protect them from any physical or mental harm.

As a dog person, though, I also appreciate how compassionate a dog’s heart is.

The beautiful black Labrador lying in her bed next to my daughter, is my first dog — outside of family pets we had while I was growing up. She truly is one of my best friends. She idolizes me, and for the way she loves me and the world around her, I idolize her, too.

All it takes is food and water in her dishes, a walk a couple of times a day, some playtime and a little love to keep her big old clumsy tail wagging.

She lived a life of making babies in apuppy mill environment until I adopted her two years ago this Christmas. My girl is 10 now, and a little limp at times — her back legs weak from beingbred far beyond her years. The med-ication she is on controls most of herpain, but she still has her days.

Every time I see her favouring herhind legs, I am reminded of how dog sare abused every day, and about the many faces of animal abuse.

Dogs deserve to be treated like beings with real feelings, instead of some inferior creature to cage in our back yards. Dogs, especially large breeds, need lots of attention and exercise. They don’t chew your shoes or eat a hole in your bed because it tastes good. They get bored and have lots of pent up energy.

A dog isn’t something you feed and let out into the back yard to do its business.

They are a lot of work. They truly are like having a child around the house —more so when they are puppies, but in reality until the day they die.

The love of a dog is so pure. Sad, beady eyes seeing you off to work in the morning. Happy prancing puppies, no matter their age, when they hear the gate open at night — knowing their best friend in the whole world is home to love them and pet them and take them for a walk. Nothing says I love you like getting knocked down and pinned to the ground — having every inch of your face licked as you laugh uncontrollably.

With proper upbringing and care, a Rottweiler is a wonderful family dog. I have seen them with children and they are no less gentle than a black Lab or a golden retriever.

Stories like the one of Jerron and Memphis and Chicago scare me for reasons outside of kids and cats and the elderly getting attacked.

I fear for the future of our pets.

It is a future over which our furry companions have no control — nor do we responsible dog owners as we are left crying helplessly when our dogs are put to sleep.

Not because they were bad, but because of their breed.

Will Rottweilers be the next dog to require a muzzle? Will they be the next to be phased out? Then what? My beautiful black Lab? Your sweet golden retriever? Your grandmother’s adorable little terrier? Will there one day be life with no dogs to lick your face with all the love they have inside their beautiful souls?

I know I would be so very angry if what happened to two-year-old Jerron happened to my little girl. I am not taking that away from the parents or any parent or grandparent of a young child who fears that this could happen to their children one day – including my wife and I.

I would be furious and searching for justice, too.

Still, after reading Jerron’s story, Ican’t help feeling almost as much for those two dogs, as I do for the Zhang family.

Their young boy is changed forever, and now three living beings must pay.

My first CFL related fan blog.

By Larry Thomas Pattison Jr
(Published in the Hamilton Spectator, June 26th, 2003)

A couple of weeks ago, we were celebrating the record breaking season of our Hamilton Bulldogs. Last Friday, we were welcoming home ‘our’ boys of summer.

It’s opening night. Something I looked forward to every summer. Sunny days, blue skies, looking out over Hamilton, and watching Canadian Football.

As I walk through the streets, within a km or two of Ivor Wynne Stadium, I come across hotdog vendors, the locals sitting on their porches with Ti-Cat paraphernalia everywhere. Signs that read ‘Parking $5.00′ held by 8 year old kids encouraging people to park on their front lawns.

Music is playing, people are talking about football. The streets are lined with fans carrying their Ti-Cat cushions, and waving banners, and wearing their favorite players jersey’s.

There are father’s and sons, grandfather’s and grandchildren, entire families, friends, and even people by themselves just looking to watch the game live instead of on their television – something I have done when everyone I know is busy and I want to catch the game. Nothing more relaxing than a sunny day, a nice high seat with a view of this great city, and our Cats out there playing their hearts out.

As you approach the stadium, you are welcomed by a Tailgate party, and busloads of crazy football fans making their way to cheer on their team – and the fun part is that it isn’t always our Cat’s. There is always the poor Eski’s fan, or dare I say ArGO fan.

People bussed in from not only the many local establishments who support our Cats, but even out-of-towners who love their team enough to support them on the road.

I take my seat amongst the large group of friends I am with. Hand shakes, how have you been, and wow that new turf looks great!

It’s the first day of summer. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and thousands of awaiting fans are here to welcome home their cats. Sun glasses, sandals, Grey Cup Champion hats, and the smell of hotdogs wafting in the air. This was what summer in Hamilton was all about. CFL football and more importantly our Hamilton Tiger Cats.

As the game progresses, halftime and a few trips to the washroom later, I meet up with old friends who I haven’t seen probably since the end of last season. Then, as I do most games if am not already sitting with them, I run into two of my uncles. Two guys I have sat with at most of the games I have been to at Ivor Wynne. I am not sure why, but for some reason, they started to reminisce. Maybe it was because it seemed so far off since the last time we seen our Cat’s play.

I listen as my Uncles tell me stories about when they were kids, sitting right here in this very stadium – their many brothers, their father and grandfather, all watching a game as my generation had done so many times over the years.

My Uncle Ed talks about his recent trips to Ivor Wynne with his children and now his grandchildren – Doing as his grandfather did so many years ago. As he dreams of days gone by, I can picture some of the same visions he does. I remember my father, and uncles, and aunts, and cousins, and friends – sitting in these vary seats so many times each year, throughout my life.

Around Ivor Wynne this night, and each game for possibly the next 5 months, this kind of bonding will happen here – And not just our family, but so many families, friends, and old acquaintances of this passionate city. Some as I have, will even talk of the memories they have about the guys out there on that gridiron.

When it comes to Canadian Football, a quarter of the guys are from around your home teams province, and there is a good chance a handful are from your home town.

In Hamilton’s case, 4 of our guys are hometown boys. Jarrett Smith, Mark Verbeek, Rob Hitchcock, and Trevor Shaw. There are 7 guys from around Ontario, and 6 more from 4 other provinces. We even have an old rivalry within teammates as Jarrett Smith and Mark Verbeek were once Barton Barons, and Rob Hitchcock and Trev Shaw were both Glendale Bears. I know first hand that Jarrett, Mark, & Rob played against one another back in the day.

Actually, I played a couple years with Jarrett and Mark at Barton 14 years ago. I didn’t know Mark as well, but Jarrett I knew pretty well as we had gone to school together since grade 5. Jarrett hasn’t changed much and is still the same guy he was when I met him. He is a very dedicated, smart person who is great with people. One of the nicest guys you’ve ever met, and when you meet his father, you know where Jarrett’s good disposition comes from.

Jarrett’s dad Ken, coached us back in the Barons days and will always be remembered as one of the best coaches I had in all the years I have played sports. Actually, Ken is the only football coach I ever had as I had never played football until I went to high school.

My father is actually the one who encouraged me to join High School Ball. “I played at Glendale” he started, “and I really enjoyed it and met a lot of people. You should join.” I took his advice and the two years I played football, were some of the best memories I have of high school. I would have never joined if not for my fathers encouragement, and because of him, I am sitting here writing so passionately about football. There is something about the dedication, desire, and strength(both mental and physical) that goes into this game, that makes you appreciate it, if not absolutely love it.

Jarrett is 3rd all-time in special teams tackles with 79

Jarrett is one of my many local heroes – friends who I grew up with, or have become friends with along the way, living their dreams. I remember the dedication Jarrett put into football. It was his dream, and there he was out on the field each game, living it. Anybody who knew Jarrett back in high school, could see even then, that Jarrett was going to do well. His rushing title at Waterloo, and all that he has achieved as a Tiger Cat, have made all his former teammates and classmates proud.

This was why the CFL was so important to Canada. Not only are there 50 some role models on these teams, but some of them are from your own hometown.
Hamilton has some great ones.

This past January, I attended Jarrett’s stag and doe. It was kind of a Barton High school football reunion. Many of those guys I hadn’t seen since high school. The room was filled by a few generations of Jarrett’s teammates – one also being his present and former CFL teammates. I watched how he interacted with those guys, and there really wasn’t much different than those good old Barton days – It was a bunch of guys who loved football and worked hard at being the best they could be. Enjoying some time to be just friends. They say that you’ll never have friends like you did growing up. I say as long as you are part of a team, you will always make great friends.

Support our guys. They are our friends, family, and role models to our children. Without our support, our children may one day miss out on the opportunity to see their role models walk these streets everyday. I remember guys like Earl Winfield, and Grover Covington signing my jersey at the hockey arena I played at as a child. If we don’t show more support for this team, our children may not have guys like this to look up to.

When our players are ‘real’, our children’s dreams seem more obtainable. “He walks the streets like I do, went to the same school(s) as I did, and he lives in the same neighborhood as I do.”

When these guys are just a star, our kids dreams can seem as high, and therefore they are left reaching. When their inspirations are the trees in our front yards, all they need is the strength and encouragement to climb it, to reach the top.

It’s going to be a great summer. Enjoy it with friends. Enjoy it with family, and even enjoy it by yourself, but enjoy it at Ivor Wynne Stadium.

Tiger’s….eat ‘em raw.

What Game 7 of the Calder Cup Finals meant to all that have, all that are, and all that will be, children of the City of Hamilton.
- by Larry Thomas Pattison, Jr.

My Ticket to Game 7

Hockey Night in Hamilton.

At least that’s how it looked in the opening pages of a 100 page story I wrote as a young child. The story was about an NHL franchise in Hamilton. Of course right. That was every hockey playing kids dream wasn’t it? To have an NHL team in their hometown?

Last night, the images I painted all those years ago became clearer.

Sure, this isn’t the NHL. We are not the Edmonton Oilers or the Montreal Canadiens. They are not the Minnesota Wild, and it definitely wasn’t the Stanley Cup we seen hoisted above the heads of the Houston Aeros. Or was it?

Growing up here, the dream of an NHL team in Hamilton was never far from your mind. After all, when Copps was built in the 80′s, it was said to be our ticket to the Big Leagues. “The future home of the NHL” they said – Have we ever really gotten over those promises?

As I watch these young kids sitting in front of me, I here one chant the words that were so much a part of my childhood – And I heard it amongst the 17,000 + fans shouting “GO Dogs GO!”

“Let’s Go Lawfield, Let’s GO!”

That was me and my teamates 18 years ago watching the Hamilton Kilty Bees at Mountain Arena – B.C.(Before Copps). I too was a graduate of the Lawfield Arena tradition and I imagine now what it would have been like to be (17 kids and their coaches and parents) attending a Calder Cup game 7 back then?

As I walked up the steps to my seat, and walking ‘up’ only for the second time since the Bulldogs have been in Hamilton, I look out over the railing, into the dark crowd. I stand there for a moment and take this all in. White Thundersticks waving everywhere. The music thumping, the lights pulling your eyes around the arena. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in Hamilton. 17,428 screaming Hamiltonians taking in a little bit of history.

Hamilton for the most part, has been more of a football city to me. I remember as a child, the whole family, cousins and aunts and uncles, all packed in my Uncles Ti-Cat bus to see our beloved Cats. But, no matter how much I loved, and still love CFL football, I am a hockey person at heart.

I played hockey 7 days a week as a child. At least 2 ice hockey games, 2 practices, nighttime street or driveway hockey, ball hockey or hand hockey in our basements,  and in the evenings, it was Hockey Night in Canada.

We learned about getting a long with others, playing as a team, we learned about friendship. We learned about winning and losing. We learned about life.

Photo courtesy of Robert Giulekas

As I stood and listened to Hamilton native Jaime Harris sing the national anthems, I looked around in awe. This is what Hamilton has waited for, for so long. This is what hockey in Hamilton was supposed to be, and as O’ Canada came to an end, and the crowd erupted, I felt goose bumps fill my soul.

I pictured myself out on that ice. Helmut held at my heart, kicking my feet out one at a time, admiring the Canadian flag, and then skating around that ice as the crowd cheered the start of something every hockey fan dreams of – Game 7 of a professional finals game in your hometown.

Then, coming back to reality, I looked around at the kids taking in this game. In their eyes I could see the same dream transpiring in their minds. Isn’t that what a professional sports team in any city is really all about – the children and giving them something to dream about. Something to strive for. Whether it be becoming a professional sports player, or just a champion in general, this was what dreams were made of.

My grandfather and I attended the big 6 to 3 win over the Binghamton Senators in the Conference finals. It was the first time he had ever been to Copps Colliseum. He doesn’t watch as much hockey as he used to, but he made it a point to watch an NHL game the night before our evening out, to get in the spirit of the game. After all, it wasn’t just a Bulldogs game, it was the Calder Cup playoffs.

We arrived about 45 minutes before the game started. The arena was still empty for the most part. The teams were having their pre-game skate, and my grandfather talked about what hockey used to be in Hamilton. He talked about the Hamilton Forum, and he talked about listening to hockey in general with Foster Hewitt at the mic.

He talked with great passion about the game. A side of my grandfather I never knew about. I didn’t even know he liked hockey, although I do remember him attending my games as a kid.

I realize now, that that night out with my grandfather, the first hockey game ever at Copps Coliseum with my father, the Bruins and Islanders pre-season game with my then best friend, are the stories I will be telling my children one day – and hopefully there are many more wonderful stories to come.

There is only one thing that was missing from last nights game though, which me and my grandfather seen a lot of that night we were there – a Hamilton Bulldogs goal. I would have loved to have seen the excitement in the eyes of those fans, and to have felt the energy of 17,000+ people going wild because their hometown team just scored. I have this feeling deep down in my heart though, that there is plenty of this to come. I don’t know what, but I think it’s going to be magical.

Last night wasn’t the best game we seen the Bulldogs play by far, but then again, the Aeros never really let us play our game. I overheard someone state just that fact last night, but I was glad he backed it up with just how amazing the Dogs were to watch when they were on their game – we definitely seen some amazing hockey games in Hamilton this year.

It’s time to let go of our strong feelings towards those promises made so many years ago.

It’s time we opened our eyes to just how great AHL hockey is. The players are up and coming stars, they go back and forth to our favorite NHL teams all the time, and some of them are even stars of the Stanley Cups we watch each year. This years Conn Smythe Trophy winner Jean-Sebastien Giguere of the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim, is just one example of a graduate of the AHL. Not to mention, Hamilton’s own Georges Laraque. Or, how about watching Marcel Hossa, or Mariusz Czerkawski this year?

Photo courtesy of Robert Giulekas

I can feel it. Last night’s game 7 is the start of something great for Hamilton. I think something happened between those 17,428 fans last night at Copps Coliseum. We once again became a hockey town. We experienced the longest game in AHL playoff history in Game 2 of the Calder Cup, and last night, we seen the largest crowd in AHL playoff history.

Game 7, 17,428 fans, and “The good ‘ol hockey game.” – All in your hometown.

It doesn’t get any better than this. O.k. A win would have topped it all off, but when you really step back and look at what Hamilton was just a part of, we did.

I am sad to say goodbye to the Oilers, but I look forward to the future of Hamilton hockey. I am happy to have been part of history tonight though, and being the new home of the Montreal Canadiens prospect team.

GO Dogs GO! – And good luck Edmonton. Thanks for everything you have done for Hamilton. We will remember these past years fondly.