Since Bill Campbell moved to Prince George seven years ago, he has been to almost 300 of son Shane's hockey games.
The majority of the ice sessions have been late at night, often in bone-chilling arenas.
Every once in a while, Bill hasn't felt like going to the rink. But, in the dead of winter, he has dragged himself out anyway, knowing full well he won't be back in the comfort and warmth of his home until sometime after midnight.
Here in Prince George, and all across Canada, fathers going to watch their boys play hockey is commonplace. It's part of our cultural fabric, the stuff of Tim Hortons commercials.
But this story is different -- perhaps entirely unique.
In this story, the dad is 78 years old and the son is 52.
Shane, well past his days of being a rising star in the game, skates for the Falcons in the 'D' division of the Shooters Pub P.G. Rec Hockey League. His season ended in mid April and no matter what was happening between the boards, he could count on one constant -- Bill would be in the seats, watching and probably doing a little coaching from afar.
Most of the time, Bill would be the only fan in the whole building. Because who would come out to watch rec hockey on, for example, a Tuesday in January at 10 o'clock at night?
And consider this frostbitten fact -- for parts of this past winter, the Falcons played in a Kin 2 arena that had a tarp for an outside wall as construction crews worked to rebuild Kin 1. With just that billowing sheet of plastic as insulation from the elements, the air temperature in Kin 2 was so frigid that Bill sat on the opposite side of the ice, right on the Falcons' bench, in an effort to keep a bit warmer.
Having Bill sit with the players seemed perfectly natural because, over the years, he has become an honorary member of the team anyhow. In his second season as the club's designated super-fan, the boys chipped in and bought him his own jersey. More on that later.
Bill is known around the P.G. Rec Hockey League. Even if players on opposing teams don't see him, they hear him because he has this horn -- one of those long plastic ones that emits a sound something like a dying elephant. And every time the Falcons score a goal, he blows the thing with tremendous gusto.
"It's just horrible," Shane said with a laugh. "And I don't know where he gets the energy to do it, but it's pretty loud. I think sometimes he does it just to tick off the other team."
Game after game, Bill watches because, he said, Shane loves him being there. They always drive to the rink together and the whole night becomes father/son time.
For Bill, going to see Shane and the Falcons also keeps him active and moving -- important when a 79th birthday is approaching.
"I have kidney disease and heart disease and this forces me to do something," he said. "And it makes me feel good to do this and to have the guys say, 'Thanks for coming out, Bill.'"
As he spectates, Bill also likes to analyze what's unfolding in front of him. Even though he has never played hockey -- never even owned his own pair of skates in fact -- he has become very knowledgeable when it comes to the finer points of the sport. And he's not shy about sharing his opinions with Shane and the rest of the Falcons.
"Sometimes I'm a big-mouth and I say things I'm not supposed to say," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. "I criticize like a coach or whatever, which I'm not supposed to do. But sometimes I just can't hold my tongue."
Of all the times Bill has spoken his mind in front of the team, Shane recalls one occasion with particular clarity.
"A couple years ago we lost 5-1 and dad came into the dressing room and looked at Darren, our goalie, and said, 'At least they kept your shots on goal down to five,'" Shane said with a chuckle.
When Shane was a kid, Bill was also a regular at his games. All these years later, Shane appreciates the fact his dad -- who relocated from Victoria to Prince George so he and wife Mary could be closer to family -- still shows such incredible interest and support.
"I don't take it for granted," Shane said.
"It will be a great memory for me and, for dad, it makes him part of something. As a retired senior in the community, it's something he looks forward to and I enjoy seeing him happy."
Back to that Falcons jersey of Bill's. The number on it is 00 and Bill has already decided that when he turns 80 and is still watching his boy in action, he'll use some strategically-placed tape to turn the first zero into an eight. That way, his shirt number will match his years of experience on this earth.
Bill is proving that age really is just a number anyway.
One day, the way he's going, he'll have to tape a '1' in front of his zeros.
