Father-daughter bonding at the old barn

During December's winter break from school, my daughter and I spent a night at a New York Islanders hockey game. In a way, it was no different from dozens of hockey nights we have spent together over the past 12 or 13 years. But on closer inspection it was very special.

College sophomores home between semesters generally have better things to do then hang with Dad at a hockey game. It has been that way since she turned 13, the year her social life kicked in. However, she still goes to a few Mets and Islander games with me each year. It's one of the rare times I get to spend quality time with her.

We started going to Islander games when she was in elementary school and the PTA would buy 300 of the best "last row" seats money could buy.

I can remember bits and pieces of games we attended together over the years -- catching not one but two intermission T-shirts shot into the crowd from the ice in one night, a few awesome overtime shootouts, a couple of bench-clearing brawls.

With the Islanders completing their last season at the Nassau Coliseum -- or the old barn, as some call it -- I thought back even further to experiences in the early '70s with my dad. We attended Islander games in 1972, the team's first season. A few short years later, we went to a slew of Stanley Cup playoff games. Dad and I also attended a few Mets, Knicks and Jets games. I don't remember many specifics, just a blurred collection of insignificant things: my first stick night, where the fans got mad at the refs and threw thousands of sticks on the ice in frustration, and seeing my first professional playoff game in any sport.

I was enamored of Islander stars Bobby Nystrom and Clarke Gilles, two of my favorites. Forty years later, I play tennis with Bobby at a tennis facility by my home in Jericho, and I have socialized after work through business several times with Clarke. My memories of their stellar play and stardom have faded as I see them as everyday folks.

We didn't have Facebook or Instagram back then, so my memories are all I have. We didn't snap photos at the game. Shame on me; maybe we should have.

Next season the Islanders move to Brooklyn, so I am not so sure if hockey will be my family's sport of choice. My daughter is a young adult and our opportunities to go to games together, to bond and enjoy a few minutes of conversation, are dwindling.

Maybe not going to games together is a rite of passage. I hope she carries on the tradition of taking kids to games if she has her own children. Maybe she will even take her father along.

Reader Mark Fogel lives in Jericho.