11 p.m. is hockey time for Everett man, 77

Published 1:00 pm Sunday, May 3, 2026

EVERETT — At 11 p.m., most 77-year-olds head to bed.

Lonnie Roughton laces up his skates.

What the puck is up with that?

Roughton emailed me pitching a “What’s Up With That?” column on “crazy adult hockey players with games beginning as late as 11 p.m., playing from Everett to Kent.”

Crazy might be underselling it.

Roughton, a semi-retired Everett general contractor, is the oldest — and longest-haired — member of the Hackers, a team formed 20 years ago in what is now the Kraken Hockey League. The name “Hackers” nods to those early days, when many teammates worked in tech. The Seattle-area co-ed rec league has more than 170 teams in 10 divisions, from A through E.

The Hackers, an all-ages squad, compete in Division 6 against teams like the Honey Badgers, Real Bacon and the Greenhorns. They’ve won four championships, earning beer mugs as their Stanley Cup.

The team’s motto: “It’s not just hockey, it’s Hackers hockey.”

“If we do poorly, we say we hacked that up again,” Roughton said.

They play about 40 games a year. The summer season starts May 11.

Nothing rinky-dink about this rec rink league. Games have refs on the ice and a scorekeeper in the box. Players show up hauling 45-pound gear bags over their shoulders. They could use wheels. But as one player put it, guys can’t be seen rolling them around in public.

This is hockey, after all.

Last season, most of the Hackers’ games were played between 9 p.m. and 1 a.m., and about half at the Northgate Kraken Community Iceplex or in Kent.

“The drive there and back is longer than the games,” said Alanna Greaves, whose husband, Andrew, an Everett hospital chaplain, plays defense.

I caught a winter playoff game at Angel of the Winds Arena in Everett.

Unlike a Silvertips game, the stands were mostly empty, but the handful of fans were just as invested.

“I still feel like I don’t totally know what’s going on,” said Dr. Annemarie Rompca, watching her husband, Alex Paradis, always in bright yellow socks, chase the puck. “He loves it.”

Roughton, in the No. 13 jersey, stood out, his long blond-gray hair spilling from beneath his helmet down his back.

He didn’t pick up a stick until age 55, at the urging of his then-10-year-old son, Nick, who played youth hockey.

“He said, ‘Dad, you should try this,’” Roughton said.

He took lessons, started playing and never stopped, aching knees and all.

“It’s good exercise,” he said. “It keeps me in shape.”

And then there’s the camaraderie.

“The variety of guys, that’s what I like,” Roughton said. “The best part is playing with my son.”

Nick, now 33 and living in Seattle, joined the Hackers 15 years ago.

At times, it can be h-e-double-hockey-sticks bruising.

Sally Roughton, Lonnie’s wife of 43 years, has heard him talk about giving it up.

“He was going to quit last season. He thought he was too old,” she said. “I told him, ‘You’re not the fastest. You’re 77 years old, for God’s sake. But you are still just as fast as some of the other ones.’”

That’s either love or elite-level coaching.

“She’s my No. 1 fan,” Roughton said. “I can’t quit now.”

At midnight games, Sally might be the only one in the stands. She cheers for all the players, not just her husband and son.

“These are tough guys,” she said.

She even carries a stick of her own — a cane made from a broken hockey stick. She’s a hockey fan at every level, from youth leagues to the NHL.

“When they smile and they’re missing teeth, I find it endearing,” she said.

Two years ago, Hackers forward John Koch, 55, took a puck to the mouth that knocked a few teeth loose and wired his jaw shut.

“I was off for a week,” he said.

A whole week.

Koch, a clinical psychologist who lives in Kirkland, says it’s about more than hockey.

“I spend a lot of time in my head,” he said. “Coming out here and playing is such a meditation. I’m present, in the moment.”

Pitt Means, 51, joined the team 15 years ago after some initial hesitation.

“A friend in a higher league said, ‘You should play, man.’ I said. ‘I suck, it’s been so long,’” he said.

Now he makes long drives for late starts.

“My wife’s like, ‘I’m going to bed,’” said Means, who commutes from West Seattle. “And I’m like, ‘I’m going to hockey.’”

When he’s not there, it’s still on his mind.

“I want to get out there,” he said.

As for Roughton?

Bed can wait. Ice time can’t.

Got a story for “What’s Up With That?” Hit me up at reporterbrown@gmail.com or 425-422-7598.