The distinguished hockey timeline of a roundballer from the Chicago suburbs.

 Despite popular folklore and what the myths may have long forgotten, not everyone "from" Warroad was born with skates on. The Legends of Paul Bunyan have grown over time as did the stories of his superhuman feats of woodsmanship. So too did the Legends of Paul Kirby and his hockey prowess grow. I am not here to debunk what popular culture has come to accept as truth. I do want to provide a timeline of sorts of how I got to this pinnacle in my On Ice "career".

* I was actually born on the banks of the beautiful Fox River in the "City of Lights" - Aurora, Illinois. I always wondered if my great grandfather was named after the river or if the river was named for him. Either way, I'm not sure that I ever witnessed the Fox River freeze but I vividly remember daydreaming of the stories my own father told of skating the river from Oswego to Aurora in the middle of winter. My mother shared stories of ice skating at Phillips Park. In my youth, I did neither.  

*In 1978 our family moved to a little hamlet on the 49th parallel. Rested comfortably where the Warroad River emptied into Lake of the Woods is the Ojibwe town that shares its name with the river. Upon arrival along the border of Minnesota and Manitoba, the Kirby family was not issued ice skates but at the age of 3, my history of dual citizenship began .

*In 1980 some kids won a hockey game or two against the oddsmakers in a place called Lake Placid, New York. Their improbable run to a historic Olympic Gold Medal was made possible with a number of Minnesotans on the roster. Dave Christian was one of those boys on the "Miracle Team". He wasn't the first person in his own family to win an Olympic ice hockey medal. Years before, his dad and uncles did too. All were from Warroad.

*Coincidentally, my hockey "career" began in 1980 in Warroad, Minnesota as well. I entered kindergarten and although no official records are available - I must have at least passed the ice skating portion of physical education class. It was a right of passage and a way of life for all school age children in Warroad to skate their instructional laps under the high wooden arches of the Memorial Arena. Generations before us learned on the river. Generations that followed learned in the Gardens. If there's one thing Warroad is good at, it's making ice. (And subsequently all the other things that come along with that.)

*Again the records are lost in translation somewhere but I do distinctly recall an early lesson in hockey stops that unsuccessfully ended in a bloody nose and no apparent damage to the boards of the Memorial Arena. The vision is foggy but then again, I was 5. I do remember a teacher tightening up my skates and sending me back out for another go. 

*My youth hockey career was cut short before it ever started by a Bombardier and my father's fledgling ice fishing business. To think, if I stuck with hockey and he stuck in the ice fishing industry we could both be millionaires. Instead, that year my parents divorced. My younger sister stayed in the land of the ice and snow and I retreated with my mother to the banks of the Fox River.  

*As luck would have it, changing family dynamics necessitated a return to Warroad in 1982. Maybe my youth hockey ship had sailed. Maybe my dad was doing his best to keep me out of the fish house stove. Either way, I did not play organized hockey that year but I'm most certain that I was a stellar 2nd grade  student and in Warroad that meant more ice skating in gym class. Without the ability to stop, I hope I was at least fast. 

*As the school years ticked on, I spent only the summers splashing in Lake of the Woods and the school year with my Mom in the Land of Lincoln. In 1984 the Chicago Bulls drafted a kid named Michael Jordan. It changed the trajectory of many adolescents across the Midwest. My Christian Brothers hockey stick built along Highway 11 on the north border gave way to an orange ball and zero vertical.

*My flight dreams were grounded in watching Air Jordan and imitating him in our suburban Chicago driveway. Once the snow and ice made pick up basketball games obsolete, I ran the hardwoods of the intramural and interscholastic teams known as the Oswego Panthers. Luckily for me, the Goblet boys owned a hockey net and I somehow convinced both John and Joe to grab a baseball glove, strap couch pillows onto their legs and jump out of the way while I fired tennis balls and street hockey pucks at them with in their basement with that hockey stick I snuck out of the north woods. 

*In the summers of '84-'88 my hockey tutelage involved following Greg Biskup anywhere he'd let me tag along. I'd pick up pucks for him. Hell, I'd wash his Jeep if he'd just let me hang out near him. See Greg played college hockey for the Bemidji State University Beavers and had a cute girlfriend. To a middle school kid like me I thought there must be a correlation between the two. (Editor's note - 35 years later Greg would be inducted into the BSU Athletic Hall of Fame on the same weekend that my cute girlfriend was!)

*Entering my Junior year of high school I made the decision to live year round with my dad. My mother was not happy but the Warroad Basketball coaches were. From a small fish in a big pond to the opposite, this city boy thrived on the attention that was tossed on us by the Warroad basketball fans - all three of them. Turns out there is infinitely more open ice time than there is open gym time in Warroad and that is typically where you would find me. I loved open hockey at the Olympic Arena. I loved shooting pucks with Ryan James at the Roosevelt Horse Barn. I loved shoveling off and then skating the Warroad River behind my house. 

*The Warroad Lakers was a Senior Men's hockey team that played in the Canadian Amateur Hockey Association. Their star player was my weight lifting coach. Their pesky defensemen was a fella I played alongside in the summer men's league softball games. The Lakers recruited washed up high school stars as well as burn out college boys. The Lakers rostered beer swillers, hellions and rebel rousers from both sides of the border. Somehow this menagerie of toothless grins mustered some pretty entertaining hockey. Lucky for a kid like me that lived a stones throw away from the arena, I got to attend many games. A quick trot across the railroad bridge and I was privy to some of the finer points of the game. 

*Next door lived a fella that some called "the greatest high school goalie of all time." Having a buddy like Aaron Stodgell at my disposal proved to be an important step in the development of my game. Stodge patiently taught me how to shoot a puck. Stodge played shinny without judgement as he consistently made me and the McKenzie boys look like chump change. The McKenzie boys were the two eldest brothers of a large family from the neighborhood. Even though they too were closet basketballers, they perfectly rounded out our back ally games of puck. 

*I don't remember watching much TV in high school but I do remember Saturday Night Live, Married with Children and Don Cherry's Hockey Night in Canada. That should account for something. 

*I chewed tobacco beneath the bleachers between periods of those high school games that I was able to attend. When the action returned to the ice, I was as rapid of a fan as I could possibly be pledging my allegiance to the Black and Gold of the Warroad Warriors. Truth be told, I am a 3 sport Warroad Alumni that DID NOT play high school hockey. I wish that I did but I stuck to the football pitch, the basketball courts and the baseball diamond. My shootout dangles were perfected in those late night skates at Open Hockey with my buddies. 

*In October 1993 I earned the title - Marine. A short time later while at the School of Infantry I met a fella named Kurt Lambert from Saginaw, Michigan. As I walked through our Quonset hut, I noticed that he was laying out hockey cards on his top bunk. I stopped and struck up a conversation. Turns out he too was a hockey aficionado. On weekend liberty, we rode the bus together to the mall to splurge our newfound fortunes on Red Wing and Penguins gear. My starter jacket solidified my intentions to one day trade my USMC high and tight for a Jagr-like mullet.

*Lambert was a goalie. Like all goalies - a little off kilter. Regardless, when we hit the ice rink in the center of the La Jolla mall we moved like Youngblood but in rental skates. At the time, two midwestern hockey schmucks stood out amongst the southern California wannabes. It felt weird to skate with palm trees out the window. When we went to Disneyland - he wore a Red Wings jersey. I went with the San Jose Sharks. We thought we were cool. We were not. 

*I left the Marine Corps of SoCal and retuned to the Land of Ice and Snow - not Illinois. That should account for something. 

*At Bemidji State University I quickly adjusted from military life to college life. I lived with a couple of goons from Grafton, North Dakota. Brent and Shane were high school hockey teammates but it was in North Dakota. So there's that. Another fella, Travis, was from Thunder Bay, Ontario. He was a defenseman for the Beavers and gave me hand-me-down sticks because like me, he was a lefty. Unlike me, he spoke Canadian. My old high school buddy, Ryan James, rounded out this hockey loving crew. Oh wait - Mike lived there too. He was a frat boy and played broomball. It was 1997. We sometimes rollerbladed to class. We thought we were cool. We were not.

*As my friendship blossomed with another weird goalie, I was suckered into working for campus recreation beside him. I refereed broomball and hockey games. I joined a Co-ed puck team myself and went to Play It Again sports to buy some gear. I spent many nights at the rink in the John Glas fieldhouse. I have Brent Rud to thank for that. 

*In March 1998 - after securing the competitive League Intramural Championship at BSU, the team sponsored by the 71 BAR picked up yours truly on waivers for the trip to St. Cloud and the Extra-mural State Tournament. (Seriously, it's a thing. Look it up.) I was a token addition to the squad because I was the commissioner not because of my goal scoring prowess. We drank too much and got third.

*For the '98-'99 intramural season back at BSU, the stakes were high. A new dance hall opened in town and was looking for some good public relations. O'Brian's bought some green and white team jerseys. We amassed a team of junior league all stars, the greatest goalie in high school league history, some former Beavers with no remaining D2 eligibility,  a couple of football players and me. We took the local title at the John Glas and traveled to St. Cloud in March to win a State Title and outscore our opponents there 78-3, or something like that. The average age of our opponents was 19. Ours was closer to 30. We drank too much and won it all.

*'99-'00 - Wash, Rinse, Repeat - the O'Brian's team was back to back BSU Champs and back to back State Extramural Champs. On the season, I scored 8 points on 3 goals and 5 assists, although one of the goals was an empty netter. I joke. No one knows who scored what but I did learn how to skate backwards that season. 

*At the turn of the century I was asked a monumental question. Because of my position in the Rec Department and my proximity to the people in charge of ice time and calendars, I was asked to coach the Bemidji State Women's Club Hockey Team. I later learned that I would be co-coaching with Matt Dillon, the bouncer/bartender not the actor. He was brought on for his schemes and command of the X's and O's. I was brought on for light comedy and motivational speeches. I think one of the ladies heard I was from Warroad and figured I must know something about hockey. Fooled them.

*I was a USA Hockey registered coach for the first time that year. I also was named Senior Winter Sports Supervisor of the recreation department. I didn't get a fancy new name plate outside any office but I did get the code to the copy machine. It also meant that I was now spending 4-5 nights a week for months on end on and around the ice sheet. I refed extra games. I was rostered and played on a Rec and a Comp team. I played with anyone that would take an extra skater. I did my homework from the scorer's table. I ate many meals just behind the glass. When knuckleheads let their ego's loose I reeled them back in with swift and decisive action and would be waiting for MaryLou at her office first thing in the morning to be "called on the carpet". You want to get better at anything - do it everyday. I skated often. 

*'00-'01 Intramural Comp. Season = Wash, Rinse, Repeat - O'Brian's goes back to back to back ad nauseum - securing our place as an Intramural Dynasty. I expect my HOF call any day now. Although we weren't dating yet, Michele was at the rink in St. Cloud to watch her first ever hockey game. She watched 3 more. It was at that point that I knew I would one day marry her. (Now, 21 years later, there may be a trophy or a t-shirt stashed in the basement somewhere. Michele finally made me put them away after 15+ years of looking at them.) 

*The Women's Club team won a few games themselves. We beat Hamline at the State Fair grounds coliseum. Our 9 skaters vs their 18. Our mismatched socks and helmets vs their polished look. Our two Irish coaches vs their full staff. We played in Duluth and Grand Forks. We hosted a few games at home too but what I remember most was the fun we had at practices. I'm glad they called me Kirby Coach. 

*In 2001, I took my first teaching job in a sleepy little farm town I'd never heard of called Rush City. Besides my time in the Marine Corps, it would be the first town that I lived in since 1990 that didn't have an ice rink. Turns out not all towns in Minnesota have hockey rinks. I didn't know that. 

*I found Men's League Open Hockey 11 miles north at Korbel Arena in Pine City. It was more like babysitting foul mouthed adolescent boys that stayed out for 6 minute shifts and less like the spirited hockey I was accustomed too. In addition, it cost money to play. Two things that I wasn't familiar with. I don't think I played more than 2 seasons. I forgot about hockey for a while.

*Michele and I married and shortly moved to Pine City. The availability of a rink was at least part of the conversation. Our young family started to blossom. Tyler wore the obligatory MN WILD gear from time to time but he was destined to be a Ball'er. In 2004, Sista Emma joined Tyler. Emma became my next best option so we put a hockey stick in her hands before she could walk. 2 years later, Logan completed our family. He actually left the hospital a day after he was born with a gifted hockey puck from a friend. A new trajectory as a Hockey Dad had begun.

*As a toddler, Logan cheered on his favorite player for the Chicago Blackhawks, Dustin Byfuglien. Big Buff raised the Cup that year and Logan had a new hero. Sista Emma cheered for Derek Boogaard of the WILD and kept a framed picture of the Boogeyman in her bedroom to scare away bad guys. In a great case of foreshadowing, my children showed an early natural affinity for the big loveable defensemen that were ultimate teammates. 

*Yep, in 2010 we signed up both Emma and Logan for Pine City Youth Hockey. Michele talks about that day like it was yesterday. When the guys up front asked for potential coaches, Michele practically pushed me out of my seat. I guess I signed up at the altar of USA Hockey that day too. The train was in motion. 

*Soon thereafter, I earned my Level 1 Coaching certification and began a long term relationship with online modules. I bought in to the American Development Model and began drinking the KoolAid. Mite jamborees, calendar sales, cool new apparel with scary stick wielding dragons on them, volunteer shifts and traveling hockey - the Kirby Krew was all in from Day #1.

*I progressed through the USA Hockey Coaching ranks while my kids proceeded to stack up the requisite skills and personal memories that make youth hockey so great. With new found friends, our emersion into the local hockey culture was like scenes from a postcard. Late night skates at the outdoor rink, SUV's packed to the gills so the kids could skate the river on family holidays, endless living room knee hockey, pink knit hats and concession stand popcorn for days. 

*I spent many practices and games with the kids and families of PCYH. We shared meals while on the road. Together we raised money to support local causes. We drank our fair share of hotel room cocktails and became friends that even sought out each other's company in the summer months. When Emma played boys hockey in Squirts and Bantams, I followed. Not because I needed to protect my daughter but more so to protect the boys from my daughter. I was fortunate to spend a lot of time on the bench with Logan and his teammates as well. 

*Always a glutton for punishment, I served three separate but concurrent sentences as a Board Member. My official title was Coach in Chief - I learned that didn't translate to much.

*After a long time coming, on January 15th, 2021 the first ever Pine City Area Dragons Girls Hockey team took to the ice for a historic 8-1 WIN over Prairie Centre. Sista Emma was a junior Defenseman on the team. As a Captain she took the inaugural faceoff and even scored a goal in a game that we thought might never happen. I was lucky to be an assistant bench boss with my good buddy, Bill Aagaard, calling the shots. 

*Emma was named a Captain again as a senior and actually awarded the Conference Defensive Player of the Year. I coached the Lady Dragons high school team again that season but stepped down following our playoff loss to finally be a fan in the stands. I was excited to sit beside Michele and cheer Logan on in his sophomore season, a season in which he was recognized as the Rookie of the Year as well as the Defenseman of the year. 11 years later, I'd say my kids fit the same mold as their childhood enforcer heroes. They play a disciplined, hard nosed, team game and are ultimate teammates. I'm proud to be their Dad more than their Coach. 

*I thought a year off would be just what the doctor ordered. Turns out my agent thought otherwise. When Marco asked if I would "give back to the Association",  Michele farmed me off to coach the Mite B's. A couple of nights a week, I laced them up and remembered just how much fun hockey can be though the eyes of the youngest skaters. At years end I was ready to hang them up for one last time.

*Turns out my agent thought otherwise. With the encouragement of my loving Wife, I have been kicked out of the house a few nights a week and my Storied Hockey Career has taken a MAJOR LEAP... No, I'm not going to THE SHOW. I've taken a part time job. And for the first time in over 40 years of hockey I will finally be paid for going to the rink! I have reached the Pinnacle of my On Ice Career!

Say "Hello" to the newest ZAMBONI driver at Korbel Arena!