Canadian alpine skier Kelly VanderBeek, seen in action last season, joined teammates Emily Brydon and Britt Janyk as athlete ambassadors for the international humanitarian organization Right to Play. (Canadian Press)

I've often wondered about the point at which sport ceases to exist and becomes business. My frustration grows with each new multi-million dollar contract signed and the relentless proliferation of scandal that threatens to demystify something that should live in the souls of children. When does it come to pass that playing games is no longer any fun?

Happily, there are moments that restore one's faith. Just the other day a fleeting trip the frozen waters of Lake Louise dangled a little hope. It had to do with three members of Canada's alpine ski team, a red soccer ball and an impromptu frolic in the great outdoors.

Emily Brydon, Britt Janyk and Kelly VanderBeek had decided to pledge their support to the international humanitarian organization, "Right to Play." It is an association that sees Olympians act as ambassadors while delivering the powerful message of sport to the world's most disadvantaged children. Many of these high performance athletes make pilgrimages to places like Rwanda, Liberia and Tanzania and help kids who are affected by abject poverty and the ravages of disease. It offers a chance for those without much hope to experience the magic of play.

Paying it forward

"I have had a life of good fortune," explained Brydon. She'll be going to Ghana in the spring once the World Cup skiing season is over. "As an Olympian, I feel an obligation to pay it forward. I want to offer my good fortune to others," she said.

At first the group of them were mugging for our television camera. They were gently playing three-corner catch with the red ball, which has become the symbol of the "Right to Play" organisation. It bears the motto, "Take care of yourself ... Take care of each other."

"Emily came to us and said this is a way to bring us together while helping someone else," Janyk recalled. The group was also planning to donate its winnings from the next World Cup race that weekend at Lake Louise to the global effort that "Right to Play" has become.

"It seems to me that play brings us closer to one another," Vanderbeek reckoned. "It offers a common understanding."

After the photo opportunity was complete and our cameraman by the name of Andy had his images, the three skiers remained on the lake and the real festivities began.

Magic of a red ball

There was Emily Brydon, who had just crashed in a downhill training run that day. She bore a huge lump on her chin but she was throwing long bombs to Kelly Vanderbeek, who was sporting a broken wrist obtained in an accident at a practice session, this past October. Meantime, Britt Janyk was dashing about trying to intercept the airborne connections by flailing her head at the ball. She rarely made contact and ended up rolling in the snow and laughing at her own ineptitude.

Others came by to see what all the fuss was about. Olympic giant slalom champion, Julia Mancuso, arrived on a pair of skates and was accompanied by another American, Stacey Cook. "I'm kind of frustrated because I can't skate," lamented Cook, who comes from Truckee, Calif. "Playing hockey on this ice would be a blast!"

Mancuso hadn't brought a hockey stick because she was clipped in the eye during a game of shinny on Lake Louise a couple of years ago. Her coaches, fearing a serious injury to their prize skier, put an end to that. For the time being, Mancuso was content to swerve in and out of the Canadian game of catch and capture it all on her hand held video recorder.

Then she pulled Emily Brydon away, handed her the camera and playfully executed a mock figure skating routine complete with sit spins and less than fancy footwork.

The Simple Things

Another Olympian was suddenly by my side. World champion white-water kayak racer, David Ford, happens to be Kelly Vanderbeek's significant other. He flashed a knowing grin on his face. "For them it's getting back to basics," he said. "It's something we all have to remember because we get such tunnel vision. Sport is about playing at something. It's supposed to be fun. Sometimes, as Olympians, we lose sight of that and we shouldn't."

The game of catch went on and the light was fading fast. Stacey Cook was gleefully sliding back and forth in her sneakers across the dark, cold ice. Julia Mancuso continued to skate in endless circles around a section of the lake. A hundred metres away, an Olympic champion I know was playing hockey with her kids. She was armed with a wrong-handed stick and the family dog, Wolfgang, was nipping at her heels. The sounds of joy were everywhere.

Then, as the thunderous chords of shifting ice echoed from the awesome rocks guarding Lake Louise, there was a pause in the action. Whispers of wonder shrouded nature's perfect field of play. Not much later, the games resumed and continued well into the evening. Long after the sun had retired from the magnificent mountains and sky.