Revelations

Any guesses on what this poorly written post will be about? Yes my faithful reader, hockey. More of the same blubbering. Please bear with me. I need to work through this. Like they say, "You can only drink so much. You can only....". The other day it hit me like a Kissle slap shot straight to the nuts, I am never going to play again. I understand that much of it is my own doing and part of me is ok with it. A lot has to do with work schedules and kids schedules and how neither match pick up hockey schedules. That being said, damn I miss playing. I miss the feeling when you first step onto the ice. It is like stepping into a different reality. It is like the problems and issues of life cannot penetrate the barrier of the boards. To ask the question made famous by Jack Falla, "Have you ever been unhappy skating?" I have pondered the question and the answer is no. For 12 years I was able to play. I Cherish those memories. But now that I am on the shelf...I would be happy just to skate. I have not skated in over a year. To hear the crunch of the blade on the ice. To feel the wind in my face. Again, cherished memories.

I did not anticipate the most recent feelings of sadness. They snuck up on me and hit me at my oldest son's hockey awards banquet. I was sitting there listening to the coaches and managers talk about what a great year it was, how well the boys played together, and how they are looking forward to next year. All of this was in past tense. It dawn on me suddenly...the season was over. I gained a great deal of pride and excitement watching my son develop over this past season. He had only 1 point the year before. This year he lead the team in assists. He is fearless even though he was not the oldest or biggest kid out there. The playing is all him. I coached him on the subtle points of the game or the game within the game. But the playing was all him. His passion and love for the game showed itself when he stepped out onto the ice.

I am now a week removed from the banquet and had a chance to ponder what I felt on that night. Of course, pride in my son's achievements. More specifically the sadness. Why was I so sad? In reflection, the core of the issue is me. With the end of the season I have moved another step away from my playing days. Each close of the season moves me farther and farther away. Again, for all the reasons listed at the top of this writing, it is what it is. Looking back I believe I took for granted the gift given to me. The gift of playing. In my defense I didn't think it would end. But it did and very abruptly. That could be the problem too. It didn't end on my terms. Life pulled me from it and cast me into the bleachers. I went from working the angles in the crease to working the heaters in the stands. Helpless as I watch it all drift away.

It is what it is.