Hockey can't cure cancer - the Czyzewskis know that.

But their son Matthew is proof it can help.

Since the nine-year-old Hamilton Huskies goalie was diagnosed with kidney cancer, the family has been overwhelmed with support from NHL players, local businesses and even competing teams. The outpouring, says Matthew's dad, Mike, has been nothing short of "phenomenal."

"Most people that are not in it, they would say that minor hockey, especially hockey parents, are crazy, just flat out crazy," he adds. "And you know what? Yeah, we are. We are absolutely nuts.

"But when we got backed into a corner, they helped us out."

The Czyzewskis' story starts in June 2012, when Matthew, a tough kid from the east Mountain who never got sick, started to throw up. When he didn't stop, his parents took him to the hospital.

The diagnosis was a ruptured Wilms tumour - the most common type of kidney cancer in children.

"The doctor nicely dropped the bomb on us," Mike says as he glances at his wife, Caroline. "I thought she was going to go down, and I was going to go down after her."

Within days, doctors had removed Matthew's right kidney and part of his diaphragm, and started treating him with chemotherapy and radiation. After that, there was more poking and prodding - first every three months, then every six.

In the meantime, Matthew, then seven, started to get serious about being a goalie. He worked his way up through the local system and last summer made the cut for the Huskies' minor atom AAA squad.

Then his cancer came back.

At a checkup last July, doctors found a spot on his right lung and the cycle resumed - removal, chemo, radiation, recovery.

Matthew was back on the ice by the end of January, but far from game shape. He was understandably and unsurprisingly weak (he's only nine, remember?), unable to skate the length of the rink or get back on his feet after making a save.

Still, his coach Chris Travale was hopeful he'd be ready before the end of the season.

"I knew I wanted to get him in there at some point," he says, "just because of everything he had fought for and battled through."

The only problem was time was running out. By now it was mid-March, and the Huskies season hinged on one final matchup with the rival Waterloo Wolves.

"If we won that game, we were going to the championship, and if we lost, we were going to be out," Travale says. "It was really our last opportunity to give this kid a chance to play."

So he talked to the kids, the parents, and the other coaches. Then he rang up Mike and said he wanted to give Matthew the start.

He said, 'sure.' Then he started to think about it.

"Seventeen parents, they've all paid a lot of money to play AAA and now, all of a sudden, he's going to come in?" the dad-of-two says. "Let's say he doesn't have one of his best games, they lose and that's it for the season. They're finished, they're totally finished.

"I called him back and said, 'I don't think it's a good idea.'

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Travale's response?

Too bad.

"He goes, 'I'm the coach and I'm going to do what I want,'" says Mike. "I didn't understand it."

He did later, though, at the end of the game - a 6-3 loss - when he looked around Chedoke arena and saw people in tears over his son's effort.

"It turned out to be an awesome day," he says.

Travale agreed, saying Matthew was "outstanding" in his comeback.

"We weren't successful, we didn't win, but it definitely wasn't on account of how he performed," he adds. "It was a loss, but in our eyes it was a win."

The only person, it seems, who wasn't happy was Matthew. He took Mike aside after the game and told him bluntly, "Dad, we've got some work to do."

Three weeks down the road, it's nearly impossible to find a night of the week the fourth grader isn't either at practice, goaltending lessons or in the gym (he even has a personal trainer). His goal is to successfully try out for the major atom squad and, next season, get at least a second AAA game under his belt.

Mike is quick to admit he likes to push his son "farther than most," but Caroline says in this case it's Matthew doing the pushing.

Her husband nods.

"All that stuff puts a smile on his face, and anything that puts a smile on his face is good," he says. "We try to explain to him that it's something really major that he fought, but he probably still doesn't really know what he did.

"Hopefully, this time it sticks."