To an Athlete Dying Young - by A. E. Housman

I can relate quite well with this poem. Throughout my life I have had many friends who had a passion for sports, more specifically, ball hockey. Ball hockey is a very popular sport in Charlottetown, along with the whole south coast of Labrador. There are a few specific people who come to mind that are unfortunately no longer with us. I'd like to briefly share the story of a couple of dear friends, because like this poem, their stories as athletes are glorious and has made them very memorable.


Damien (Damie) Burden (1989-2005), #44


Died in a snowmobile accident on December 29th, 2005 while riding with a drunk driver between Charlottetown and Pinsent's Arm. I had a very close relationship with Damien. We grew up as kids in the same town (Pinsent's Arm), and he was also my brothers best friend. There are two things that can sum up Damie; that's skidooing, and ball hockey. He absolutely LOVED hockey. Every tournament that was going on, weather it be 1, 2, or 3 hours away he would always be on a team, playing his heart out. He was one hell of a hockey player, and showed the most amount of sportsmanship every time he hit the floor. Unfortunately, his life ended way to short, but his legacy certainly did not. Since Damie's passing, about a year after, his parents, along with the help of Charlottetown and Pinsent's Arm, started a memorial tournament in Damie's name. The response was phenomenal. Teams gathered and traveled from miles away to participate in the Damien Burden Memorial Hockey Tournament, and still continue to do so every year. The tournament is great for everyone who attends, weather your playing on a team or not. To this day it is still a huge success, it's held around the second week of February.




Ryan (Ry) Russell (June 1991- May 2010), #33


Ryan died in a very tragic drowning on May 18th 2009 while in boat on the Churchill River in Goose Bay. Ryan and two of his other friends were in boat then went over the waterfall into Muskrat Falls. I was also very close to Ryan. In Charlottetown he lived about 2 houses up from me and we went to school together. Like Damien, Ryan played in many tournaments and was also a well respected ball hockey player. He played in goal for most of his athletic career, and was a magnificent one at that! He saved a lot of goals, and saved a lot of games. I remember one particular year Ryan and his team played in the Damien Burden Memorial, and every year there was a constant rival between Charlottetown and Cartwright for first and second. Charlottetown usually got silver, but this particular year there was something different. Everyone was determined to get that gold. In the championship game the clock was winding down, and Ryan was on fire. It was just this particular game he had fire in his eyes and in his heart. The clock buzzed, and the scoreboard was favoring Charlottetown. For the life of me I can't remember the score, but I can remember the feeling. It was an amazing feeling. There was a tingling in your chest that was so intense you felt weightless. It actually felt like slow motion, though it was quite opposite. The crowd was wild! It was because of Ryan they won that tournament. Being as modest guy that he was he would always say, "Go on byh's, we all did it". His kindness and modesty definitely changed the game to all that knew him.


There are another couple names I would like to mention. Justin Noel, (February 1991 - August 2009) also lived in Charlottetown and went to school with me, died by drowning in a pond near Forteau, Labrador. Also, Sheldon Clarke, (March 1976 - August 2009), also lived in Pinsent's Arm where I grew up, died by taking his own life. These men were also friends of mine, and were great hockey players.


My point with this is that this poem speaks about a young man who also died while still in his prime, especially when it came to his athletic abilities. One of the themes in this poem is that dying at the peak of one's success can be looked at as a victory, instead of a tragedy. That is exactly how I feel when I think about these wonderful athletes. Such a statement sums up the whole point of having a memorial tournament and remembering these young men as the glorious hockey players they were. It celebrates the life that they lived, as opposed to grieving and being so sad of the life that they didn't. This poem really "hits home" for me. It's exactly how I, and along with all the other people who lost a loved one, feel. That is such a powerful message that can be retrieved in a few stanzas, and is the reason why I connected to this poem so easily.

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All four of these fine men who left this earth too soon now are remembered by a showing of jerseys with their hockey numbers in our local Gym. They have made a great impact on every life they touched, and I miss them so dearly. Gone, but never forgotten.