Steve Montador will admit he was a little peeved at first. He travelled all the way from Toronto through London's Heathrow Airport and on to Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, but his luggage didn't.
He spent his first three days in Africa wearing the same shorts, socks and underwear; not the most comfortable way to get around.
Then he saw a young boy with no shoes wearing a ripped Colorado Avalanche T-shirt and a heartfelt smile. It was all Montador could do but shake his head and feel sheepish.
It's not often an NHL defenceman travels halfway around the planet to spend a week with African children, the majority of whom are either infected with HIV or have lost their parents to AIDS. What's even rarer is for two NHL defencemen to give up a slice of their July for the chance to help those who are so unfortunate that many have already served as soldiers in rebel armies by the age of 10.
But when Montador, of the Florida Panthers, and Andrew Ference, of the Boston Bruins, were asked to visit Tanzania on behalf of Right To Play, they leapt at the chance to abandon their comfort zone and do something good.
"I wanted to see the work first-hand," Ference said. "I wanted to see that culture up close and be involved in the community."
Ference and Montador were teammates once with the Calgary Flames and shared a belief in the power of Right To Play, an organization committed to improving the lives of underprivileged children through sport. What the two Canadians saw during their African experience underscored the power of athletics and its principals of teamwork and sense of purpose.
"I believe Right To Play works and to see kids with so many challenges have that hope in their eyes is amazing," Montador said.
Ference had visited Africa once before as a 13-year-old. He went with his parents his mother's a doctor, his father a dentist and they spent 3 1/2 weeks touring parts of the continent beginning in Kenya.
Seeing poverty and kids his own age living on the streets was a rude adjustment for Ference, but also a beneficial one. While many NHL players do charity work, Ference lives and breathes his convictions. He has become part of the fight against global warming by driving a hybrid car, using wind power for his home and positioning himself with the David Suzuki Foundation.
Teaming with Right To Play was simply another aspect of Ference's willingness to get involved.
"Each day Steve and I were there had its own kind of experience," Ference said. "Every single group of kids we ran into was always more educated than you gave them credit for. We have preconceived notions living over here. But when you're there, you're surrounded by people who have a lot of ambition. Kids were going to school to prepare for their studies [in September]. The adults, their entrepreneurship, they don't get any credit for that.
"It makes you angry for the position they're in but you still have to respect how they can be so happy."
Montador and Ference visited schools and orphanages and were treated not just as visiting ambassadors but as friends being invited for dinner. Most everywhere they listened to children singing songs of domestic abuse, the death of their parents and the ravages of war, including the many acts of violence against women.
Yet when the two defencemen played tag or soccer with their young hosts, everything was forgotten the travails, the suffering, all disappeared as soon as the game began.
"I didn't need Swahili to communicate," Montador said. "I'd raise my arm to signal I was open and someone would kick the ball to me. I felt a connection with the kids."
Ference and Montador ended up as captains on competing teams in a match that needed penalty kicks to determine a winner. With the score tied 3-3, Ference hoofed in the deciding goal then ran down field in celebration, 400 kids following in his wake.
Thankfully, said Ference, that scene and the entire journey was captured on film by the New England Sports Network and will be shown as a documentary this fall on the NHL Network.
"People have asked if I feel guilty coming home to our western luxuries," Ference said. "I look at it this way: growing up here, growing up there, the real measure isn't if I had a big house or lots of money. When you're on your death bed that's when equality kicks in. Rich people, poor people both ask the same question, 'What did I do with my life?' I don't think it takes money to do things. I met people who made $100 a year in Africa and they treated us like gold.
"I'll always keep those people in mind now."
Montador, too, returned home with a new appreciation not just for what he has but what he can do to help the many he left behind.
"I was thankful before but this hits it home even more," he said. "You learn how many cool, bright, smart, beautiful kids are there and that given an opportunity they will flourish. … Now I can help raise some funding.
"It's what I want to do."







