The snow flakes fall like a million stars in the nighttime sky. It covers everything like a soft, quiet blanket. It covers the ground and sticks to the branches, it buries cars and sticks to the grooves in your tires. Through it all voices echo, screaming, yelling, cheering. Bodies move in not-so-fluid motion, arms flail and feet kick. Sticks fly and a small orange ball rolls lazily through the snow before a flying dive and the ball is sailing across the rink again. People scamper and everyone converges on the ball.

Broomball. The ultimate winter sport of buffoonery. At first glance it looks like a game for clowns. But those clowns know how to have fun. Tonight I scored my first goal ever.