Hockey is Life

He was the last pick for the Milford Flyers. His tryout was inept and

poorly executed. This is what he always wanted, what he worked for,

what he dreamt about. He felt like a dolt for playing so horribly in a

game he loved. Hockey was his life, and it almost ended with the

shame of not playing again.

He promised himself that he would never let that happen again. He

was full of gratitude for being picked but apprehensive of what the

other teammates thought of him. His mind was in perpetual thought

of how to overcome the lack of skill he showed. He hoped the coach

would give him an opportunity to show what he could do.

As the year elapsed his skills became an asset to the team. He could

wrest the puck from a player by receding and advancing with

extraordinary speed. He would use his glower to intimidate, and body

to camouflage what his hands would do with the stick and puck. His

body was in perpetual motion. When his first attempt at making a

goal didn't work, he would improvise by passing to another player.

The crowd was a good motivator for him. To get them involved he

would agitate them by deliberately being placid then being

aggressive. He would habitually ferret out an opponent's weakness

and use this to the team's advantage. This skill would serve to

increase the fervor of the crowed.

The last game of the season came all too quickly. He was nervous

though radiant in his previous accomplishments. He could not nor

would not forget his earlier affront to his pride. He knew that he did

not get this far alone. His team as well did most of the work. He

called the team together to confer on strategy.

The game began with negligible problems. He kicked his skating into

high gear and made some exemplary moves. Before the other team

could retaliate, he slapped the puck home. The crowed at first was

eerily silent but then broke out into a tremendous roar.

"LETS GO JOHN, LETS GO!!!!!!!!!"

It was like a rite of passage… His dream come true.