Of my favorite memories as a child, attending St. Louis Blues games with my father will always be at the top. It wasn’t just the thrill of seeing my favorite sport and team, but the crowd noise, the fan interaction, the food and that sharing of comradery with my father (and often the rest of my family). 

Even though I lost my father to Leukemia in November 2015, I still feel that excitement of entering through the 14th and Clark entrance with my dad and grabbing a program before heading to the concession stand. It’s a feeling that I will have every time I enter the Enterprise Center.

In January 2012, I found out I was going to be a father. A few months later, my wife and I discovered we were going to have a son. As most aspiring fathers do, I was a mixed bag of emotions. On the surface there was doubt in my abilities while on the inside, I looked forward to the things all fathers enjoy: the first little league game, the day he gets his license, his wedding day, etc. Most of all, though, I was looking forward to experiencing his love for the game of hockey as I did all those years ago. I was certain he was going to play the sport and we would attend every Blues game possible, as I did with my dad.

But every parent in the history of existence will tell you that what you expect of your child before his or her birth is never how it works out. My wife and I learned this lesson quicker than most.

Welcome to Life as a Special Needs Parent

When our son, Shea, was born, he was diagnosed with Down Syndrome. Almost instantly, my dreams were dashed. Shea was not going to be participating in standard little league. He wasn’t going to drive a car. The wedding will not be what we originally expected. But most of all, there’s a good chance that attending hockey games would be too much to bear.

This was amplified as Shea grew in age. We started noticing pretty quickly that Shea had another disability and it was confirmed a few years after birth that he has Autistic Spectrum Disorder. Further, these dreams of a normal life for our boy were silenced.

So far, this story has been one of disappointment and helplessness. But that’s not how this story ends.

First of all, when Shea was born, my family was turned onto an unbelievably well-written poem called “Welcome to Holland.” It described the author, Emily Pearl Kingsley, and her family’s original struggle and eventual ebullience of raising a child with a disability. With this poem’s existence, I won’t try to explain the feelings of raising a child with a disability. This poem does that perfectly. Let’s just say that it hasn’t made life difficult … it’s made it different.

It’s just been a course unlike most others for us. Shea walks a different path than his cousins and schoolmates. And it’s been a joy to be a part of and witness every day.

🤝Hockey, Shea. Shea, Hockey

Since Shea was born in July 2012, his first winter months did not include a look into my favorite sport as the NHL and the NHLPA locked out the start of the season. It wasn’t until January 19, 2013, that he was able to watch a live game on television. A big fan of his jumper, Shea watched with excitement as Vladimir Tarasenko scored his first two NHL goals and the Blues destroyed the rival Detroit Red Wings, 6-0. He watched the entire game, giggling and jumping with sheer excitement. Let’s just say the term, “You are definitely my child” was uttered multiple times that evening.

From there, Shea developed a love of his father’s and grandfather’s favorite sport. He watched every Blues game for which he was awake. He continues to attend many of his father’s adult league games, jumping with excitement and trying to interact with the players as much as possible. He cheered the Blues on to the franchise’s first Stanley Cup in 2019, many times staying up far past his bedtime. Other times, he was woken up by his parents screaming over a miraculous overtime goal late at night, to which he gladly danced to Gloria blaring over the speakers until the morning hours.

However, and needless to say, certain events and situations are a bit more difficult for Shea to grasp. Over the years, Shea has shown reluctance toward events that include microphones and loudspeakers due to noise sensitivity. Likewise, extreme cold or heat overwhelm him, making him vulnerable to complete meltdowns in which there is no calming until the event has ended or the area has been vacated.

Because of this, my wife and I have been apprehensive about taking Shea to certain events. One of those was a live professional hockey game.

Lately, Shea has shown to better carry himself in louder and more crowded situations. For example, we took him to Disneyworld and Universal Studios in March, spanning across four days, and he had very few incidents where he was upset. We felt it was time for him to attend his first Blues game.

We decided preseason was best for his first game, as the crowd noise isn’t as boisterous and if we felt we needed to leave early, it wouldn’t be a big deal to my wife or myself. I decided to push the announcement out to Twitter and ask for advice from others who have done the same with their children with special needs. The response was tremendous, but nothing was better than the Blues Twitter account reaching out to me directly to suggest a sensory bag, which is available at the Guest Services Center outside Portal 19. 

A third seat was also needed, as I was originally given two tickets, so I mentioned this in our conversation. The account representative put me in touch with a ticket rep, who promptly called me, found out where my seats were located and gifted me a third seat so she can “ensure you and your family have the most fun possible.” It was truly going above and beyond what was expected from the organization.

A Change in Culture

Of course, this comes on the heels of the Blues’ disastrous public decision to remove Pride Night, one of the promotional game nights on the team calendar that celebrates the LBGTQ+ community, causing a massive public outcry from supporters on social media. Rebranded as “Hockey is for Everyone” night one year and changing it to an away-game watch party the next, this was a black mark on the team’s reputation to many in the area. Reinstated this year, Pride Night is one of many ways that the Blues are looking toward inclusion for their fan base.

The work put into getting Shea to Enterprise Center, as well as making him comfortable while in the arena, proves to me that the organization is looking to reach beyond their normal fan base and welcome fans of all backgrounds to the sport.

The biggest hurdle Shea faces is loud noise generated from speakers (and sometimes loud crowd noise). The Blues offer headphones. Some Autistic fans may need fidget tools, weighted lap pads or verbal cue cards; the Blues offer these in their sensory bags. 

Unfortunately for Shea, he does not cooperate with headwear, including hats, sunglasses and headphones. And as far as fidgeting goes, he gets so involved in the game that he does not require any tools. 

The sensory bag was brought back to the Guest Services Center during the first intermission, but the franchise’s attempt to make him comfortable was tremendous.

Pregame

We arrived early to the arena early to ensure we arrived for the pregame skate. When stopping at Guest Services, we were also provided a special first game puck, in which the attendant wrote Shea’s name on it.

We went directly to our seats and awaited the pregame skate. When the players stepped on the ice, Shea knew exactly what that meant, so applause was instant. I picked him up and brought him down to ice level (we were in about the 28th row). We were closest to the Dallas Stars, so we watched them skate around a bit before we went over to the Blues’ side of the ice. Captain Ryan O’Reilly was flipping pucks up to fans near us, but we weren’t able to grab any from him. Fortunately, a member of the on-ice crew sent a puck over the glass to a gentleman next to us, who instantly handed the puck to me and said, “Take it for your boy. I know the guys down there, so I can get one any time I want.”

We grabbed our meals and headed back to our seats and watched the scoreboard as they showed highlights from the previous season. Shea was enthralled, yelling “goal” and “yay” every other minute. Then, the Blues were coming on the ice and … the goal horn went off.

The Game Begins

Shea was in disarray. He became inconsolable during the starting lineup announcements and the national anthem. However, the instant the puck dropped, the tears quickly disappeared and he realized what was transpiring in front of him.

He cheered, tried his best to yell “Blues” in the low tone Blues fans are known for, and was literally on the edge of his seat throughout game play. As a father who desperately was seeking this moment with his son, what I felt was truly indescribable. The moment I never thought I would get was ensuing in front of my eyes.

With two minutes left in the first period, Riley Tufte of the Stars buried a pass from teammate Mavrik Bourque past Blues goalie Jordan Binnington on a two-on-one. As the crowd was partly booing, Shea did his best to imitate and be a part of the crowd noise.

The Blues Score!

The more the game pushed on, the more excited Shea was. He truly enjoyed his first night, dancing to all the music playing at stoppages, clapping when appropriate and even trying to emulate the Power-Play Dance Blues fans are known for. However, what we all wait for when we attend games finally happened at the 19:01 mark of the second period: the Blues scored.

On the power play, newcomer Pavel Buchnevich tipped in a pass-shot from Brayden Schenn from in front of the net and the crowd erupted. My wife and I jumped from our seats in celebration, quickly looking down at Shea, still seated, with tears welling in his eyes. He cried for a minute or so, then the period ended and he was back in good spirits. Although the goal horn was the biggest hurdle he was still facing, every other aspect of the in-game experience resonated well with Shea.

Again, the goal horn sounded to begin the third period and Shea shared a somewhat sad look on his face, but no outrage or sadness was made audible. The game continued on and he was as jovial as can be.

Throughout the third period, we start noticing more words you hear at the hockey rink coming from Shea. “Goal” is one we often hear at home, but “nice save” was uttered when Binnington’s replacement, Joel Hofer, made a cross-the-crease stop. “Hit him” was also said late in the third period when I was begging for a better Blues forecheck.

Young or young at heart, it's never too late for your first #stlblues game! Have a great time, Shea and Justine! 👋 pic.twitter.com/luScPrrN8n

— St. Louis Blues (@StLouisBlues) September 28, 2021

Overtime

After 60 minutes of play, the Blues and Stars played to a 1-1 tie. When the three-on-three play started, Shea was clearly losing a bit of muster as it was already well past his bedtime. However, he still had enough energy left to sit on the edge of his seat and watch intently as the Blues stormed out with the control to open the extra period.

Then, it happened. Youngster Scott Perunovich found Sam Anas, who wheeled to the middle and beat goaltender Jake Oettinger with a wrist shot for the winner. As I do, I rose from my seat in celebration, this time picking Shea up with me and waving him around to celebrate the winning tally. This time, there wasn’t sadness or anger. However, it wasn’t exactly jubilation, either. It was more a look of confusion, but the key was the lack of a negative reaction. It was a great moment to celebrate with him, even though he may have been at a bit of a loss for the moment.

It was a night full of emotions and sensory overloads, but it was everything we hoped it would be. Shea finally attended a professional hockey game and even made it all the way through 61:43 of ice time. 

 

 

I can finally understand how my dad felt taking me to games. As a young man myself, I just saw it as an opportunity to see my team play and enjoy my favorite sport at its highest level. For him, it was a bonding experience to share with his children and a way to inspire happiness for an evening. 

As a parent of a child with special needs, it was even more than that, though. It was Shea breaking his own barriers and yet again proving to himself that he can do whatever he sets his mind to. Although he loves watching hockey on television, a live event is a whole different animal. And he came out on the other end of it with shining colors.

I do still have the opportunity to attend Blues games with my son. Although those hopes seemed dim at first, they are unquestionably in our future. And that makes any of those other hopes and dreams for my son I originally had within grasp, as well.

The biggest hope I have, though? He looks back at these moments with his dad the same way I do with my father.