Not mounted like trophies. Stacked — dozens of them laid horizontally under a wood cap rail, shafts out, so the whole seat back is brand names at eye level. Sher-Wood. CCM. Titan. Reebok. Bigshot. Model numbers that meant something to whoever bought them: 5030, T20, 7000, TPM 1010, 10K. Words that were once features — Heat, Ultimate, Top Prospect, Street.

It reads as decor. Look at it a second longer and it reads as a list.

The list

The thing worth writing about is that a wall of retired equipment is also a record of an industry consolidating. These sticks are wood. Almost nobody plays with wood now. The brands printed on them went through the same twenty years that the material did, and several of the names on that wall no longer mean what they say — bought, retired, or licensed onto something else.

Titan is the clearest case. Gretzky won in Edmonton with a Titan, the 2020 model. Titan belonged to a Montreal company that renamed itself The Hockey Company in 1999, and it sat in a portfolio with Canadien, Heaton, Jofa, Koho and CCM. Reebok bought the lot in 2004 for 329 million US dollars. Adidas bought Reebok the year after. Everything except CCM was phased out. A Titan on that wall is a name that was retired by a company that was itself bought twice.

Reebok is on the wall as well, a few sticks along, which is the part that makes me laugh. Reebok put its own name on hockey sticks after buying and shelving the brands it had paid for. Then Adidas sold CCM in 2017, for 110 million, to a Toronto private-equity firm. CCM changed hands again in 2024.

Sher-Wood is the Canadian one, out of Sherbrooke, Quebec. It sent composite stick production to China in 2011, which cost about forty jobs; the Sherbrooke site stayed on as head office and distribution with around a hundred and ten. The name belongs to Canadian Tire now, along with Hespeler and Victoriaville.

CCM is the survivor. Of the six names in that 2004 sale it is the one that still fronts a full line of sticks.

Then there is the material. Easton released the Synergy in 2001, the first one-piece composite that NHL players actually took to, and within a few years most of the league had switched. Every stick on that wall is from the losing side of that.

Nobody assembling the wall was making that point. They needed a back for a bench and had a supply of dead sticks. The meaning is accidental, which is the part I like.

The room it is in

Saturday, one in the afternoon, late May. On the big screen: PSG and Arsenal, 1–1. That is the Champions League final, in Budapest, and one in the afternoon in Alberta is nine at night in Hungary. It finished 1–1 and PSG won it on penalties after extra time, so what we were watching over lunch was a European club final going the distance.

On the screen beside it: hockey.

Two sports, two continents, one room, both being watched at once by different tables. That is not incidental to the format. The room is built for it — kegs cut down into light fixtures, bottles lit along the wall, screens angled so that no booth has a bad one, and a floor plan that swallows a group our size without anyone having to ask.

Our server ran the whole table without it ever feeling like work. Drinks kept coming, she checked in often, nobody waited. Feeding a large travelling group fast, while a game is on, is a specific job, and this is a building designed around it.

What we ate

Burgers, poutine, fish and chips, a Caesar salad. The fried pickles were delicious. Everyone enjoyed their meal.

I had the steak bites and a side salad with balsamic, to stay off the carbs. At a Canadian brewhouse. Where the menu is poutine and fried pickles and the fries come in a bowl the size of the salad plate.

There is a whole small piece in that and I am not sure it belongs in this one.

But for nearly four years, that same wall was just blank.

It started back in 2021 when many of us were still working from home through the pandemic. I had turned a former bedroom into my office and creative workspace, slowly arranging everything just the way I wanted. Except for one wall—the one with the sconces. Based on the layout, with an outlet floating in the middle, I guessed the previous owners had used this room as a small home theater. But I didn’t need a TV in the office.

At one point, we covered the outlet with an old framed map of the galaxy—a placeholder that fit with some of the other space and sci-fi decor we’d added.

Originally, my desk faced the windows with space-themed artwork behind me. Eventually, I turned the desk around to face the room so I could look out the window and get more natural light for video calls. In this new setup, the framed galaxy poster hung behind me along with the two sconces and that awkward outlet, all featured prominently in my daily meetings.

I kept thinking about changing it—imagining the kind of backdrops I saw on YouTube: shelves, knickknacks, and bits of personal history. But as often happens, life gets in the way.

That blank space gnawed at me for months.

I tried replacing the lights. The Edison-bulb sconces had that vintage warmth I liked, but they weren’t quite me.

Eventually, I realized the lights weren’t the problem. The problem was that I hadn’t started.

A Saturday Morning Shift

It was a fall Saturday morning. One of those rare, quiet ones. I was sitting on the couch sipping my coffee, sunlight cutting across the room, when I decided: today’s the day I deal with that wall once and for all.

For years, I’d walked past it, thought about it, made plans for it, but never acted. That morning felt different. Not because I had more time, but because I was done waiting.

I opened my laptop, snapped a photo, and pulled up ChatGPT. No grand plan, no blueprint. Just a question and a bit of curiosity.

“I want this to look cinematic and modern — something I can use as a YouTube backdrop but that still feels like home.”

We went back and forth. I uploaded more photos. ChatGPT generated concept renders showing different shelf arrangements between the sconces. The AI visualizations helped me see the potential, but I still needed to figure out the actual materials.

The Home Depot Detour

That same morning, I drove to Home Depot to browse options. I found the Hardwood Reflections solid wood butcher block shelving display—beautiful walnut and birch options with black metal brackets. They looked substantial and professional.

The problem? The three shelves I’d need would run over $300. And while I liked the look, I wasn’t sure the butcher block aesthetic was right for my space. At that price point, I started thinking: I could make these myself out of real walnut. Or maybe plywood. Or even just pine boards with stain…

And there it was—analysis paralysis creeping back in.

I stood in the aisle, phone in hand, uploading photos to ChatGPT and second-guessing every option. Custom built? Too time-consuming. Butcher block? Too expensive and maybe not the right look. DIY from scratch? There goes another six months of planning.

I needed to break the loop.

Back in the truck, I decided to start with IKEA LACK shelves — they’re modular, clean, and cheap. Under $100 total. Since I wasn’t sure about the look, I could always upgrade later, but they’ll get me out of planning mode and into done mode.

That was it. Decision made. Coffee finished.

Time to actually do something.

The Trip to IKEA

That same Saturday afternoon, I jumped in my truck and drove to IKEA with meatballs and shelves on my mind.

Once I arrived, I had to stop for some IKEA meatballs first. No one wants to walk through IKEA on an empty stomach.

I’d decided on three shelves:

• Two 43-inch black-brown LACK shelves (Product #: 401.036.33) centered between the sconces — $29.99 each
• One 74-inch black-brown LACK shelf (Product #: 401.037.51) below them as a visual anchor — $34.99

Total cost: $94.97 — roughly a third of what I’d have spent at Home Depot.

They weren’t custom. They weren’t solid wood. But they were good. And they were enough to get started.

The Build

Sunday morning, after a cup of coffee, I unpacked the shelves, grabbed my Milwaukee drill, and got to work.

Installation tips:

• Used my stud finder to locate studs - the two smaller shelves had one stud between the sconces, the longer shelf had two between
• Measured and marked center points for each shelf using the 48" level
• Top shelf: 12 inches below the ceiling
• Middle shelf: 12 inches below the top shelf
• Bottom shelf: 12 inches below the middle shelf
• Pre-drilled pilot holes where needed
• Used the E-Z Anchors for additional support points between studs

The whole thing took maybe an hour. A satisfying hour, the kind where you stop thinking and just do.

Tools I Used

A few solid tools made the process simple:

• Drill (Budget Option): CRAFTSMAN V20 Cordless Drill/Driver Kit, 1/2 inch, Battery and Charger Included - A lower-cost alternative to my Milwaukee
• Drill (My Choice): Milwaukee 2903-20 M18 FUEL 18V Cordless Drill/Driver (Tool-Only) — my go-to for power and precision. You’ll need M18 batteries separately.
• Level: CRAFTSMAN 48" Box Beam Level — crucial for straight, symmetrical shelves
• Anchors: Buildex E-Z Anchor (75 lb rating, 50-pack) — simple and secure for drywall
• Stud Finder: Franklin Sensors ProSensor M210 — accurate and fast
• Drill Bits DEWALT Titanium Nitride Coated Drill Bit Set

What’s On the Shelves

Now, these simple shelves hold fragments of my story — small, ordinary things that together feel like me:

Lighting:

• Pathson Vintage Wall Lamp – Industrial Loft Sconce

Bottom Shelf:

• Toshiba RT-200S Vintage Boombox — Similar style: Riptunes Cassette/Radio Boombox
• Over the Moon with Pharrell Williams LEGO 10391
• LEGO Space Shuttle - Creator 3-in-1 31134
• Baby Yoda (Grogu) plush
• Framed autographed photo of James Doohan
• Red Swingline Stapler (Just like Milton’s)
• Crazy Taxi Toy

Middle Shelf:

• Scottsman Candle from Erin Napier’s Scent Library
• Saturday Morning Candle from Erin Napier’s Scent Library
• Rotating collection of books (currently: sci-fi, tech, and cooking)

Current Book Rotation:

• The Third Rule of Time Travel
• Paradise 1
• Ready Player Two
• The First American Cookbook
• Weber’s Charcoal Grilling
• How Linux Works
• The Algorithm Design Manual
• The Dastardly Book for Dogs

Reflection

Perfect is the enemy of done. The LACK shelves aren’t high-end, but they transformed the space exactly how I wanted.

Analysis paralysis is real. Standing in Home Depot, I could feel myself thinking about research, lumber comparisons, and DIY plans. Sometimes the best choice is the one that gets you moving.

Start with good enough. I can always upgrade later. But for now, these $95 shelves do exactly what I needed: they make the space feel complete.

AI as a decision partner works. ChatGPT didn’t just generate pretty renders; it helped me break through decision fatigue.

Some links in this post are affiliate links. If you buy through one, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you.