Sweet Caroline (Corey Crawford)

Daddy's Girl

Caroline

After the New Years the team starts to sink a little. The defense was bad, the offense wasn't clicking, they weren't pointing fingers but it was obvious something needed to happen around here.

So for practice today they did a few different drills, usually Q keeps the practices short but in the middle of a losing streak you gotta try different things to snap it. So he had me out there taking shots at the goalies and helping them out. There was no shortage of things to work on so we stay out there for a while.

Eventually practice ends and I go up to my office. I look through my notes and see what I have written down. I put some of them away for a article I was working on and a few things away for the book. I collect my things and walk back to my apartment. I get in and feed my cat before changing into comfy clothes.

I decide to sit down and work on the book more. No emotional videos this time, but some more stuff on my dad. I go through his stats and lines and watch some old highlight videos. Most videos on YouTube is of my dad on the ice going ballistic fighting someone or stick handling around the greatest player to ever play the game. I can't deny that my dad was a handful, I'm pretty sure he has lost his mind. But he was a great guy, that's what I wanted to show off in this book. Tell everyone about the guy who gave up his dreams of playing in the nhl to take care of my mom. The guy who fell in love with a wide eyed writer as a teenager and loves his daughter more than anything.

After searching for a while I find a interview from his first few years in Montreal. Before they hired that horrid coach and my dad decided he could no longer play there. I click on the video and see it was from the year after they won the cup. Interviews weren't what they are now but my dad was always in the media somehow someway.

"Patrick, you've been playing great hockey going into this break. Why is that" they ask and he laughs.

"Hot wife" he responds and everyone laughs. His accent was always super thick, especially when he was playing in Montreal. He learned English for the sake of hockey but he knew French through and through.

"Any plans for the holidays" they ask him.

"Yeah. Go to home with family. Take daughter skating for first time... try to make another" he smirks and I just shake my head. He was such a jokester.

"Okay then. Are you excited to be away from the rink for a while" another questions.

"Yes and no. Yes because get to stay home. No because this home too" he admits.

"If you were to leave a legacy behind, what would it be" someone questions.

"I love the game, I love family more. No win greater than family" he claims. The video shuts off and I shed a tear. I said I wasn't going to get emotional, yet here I am, crying.

All throughout my life I was very much attached to my parents. I was home schooled and a only child, so my parents were my best friends. I saw my parents every day of my life, and no matter where we were I was right by their side. If my dad was playing I was always in the front row, right behind whichever net he would be by the most. My mom was a momma bear. She never let me get too far from her and I never liked leaving. I loved a very sheltered life from the media and all that, it can get icky with that sometimes. Even now I don't like the idea of my personal business being somebody's punch line. The mind can wonder far and I've seen some crazy things said about my father that isn't true and it breaks my heart that people think he's terrible. He's really not and I hope this book gets that point through.

My dad protected me like I was the only thing in his life that mattered. And after my mom passed away I was. He was so heartbroken, so devastated he didn't eat for weeks. He sat there and cried and cried until he could cry no more. I was in college at the time, just my second year there. I studied journalism because I wanted to be my mother. I also studied sports analysis so I could see the game like my dad. I went to school for eight year and you know what, I never learned about how to cope with losing your mother, your best friend. I never learned how to aid a husband who vows he will never love again. That kind of stuff, the things you don't see in interviews or on the ice, that's the stuff that really makes a player. My dad joked around a lot, especially with the media, but as soon as you take him away from all of that he is the sweetest guy I know. He always volunteered with me, encouraged me to help people whenever they needed it. He's made his fair share of his mistakes but we all have. But I love him more than anything and I know I said I wouldn't want to leave here to work in Colorado but I do miss him.

I decide to give him a call since we haven't talked since last night. He answers quickly and that made me happy.

"Hi Mighty Mouse, how are you" he asks and I smile.

"So that's how everyone knew that nick name. I thought that died" I admit.

"You will always be my Mighty Mouse" he assures me.

"Well I'm doing pretty good, how about you? What have you been up to" I ask.

"It rained here and all the snow melted so I visited you mother's grave. I put some flowers down and talked to her" he claims.

"Did you tell her hi for me" I ask.

"I did. I told her how proud I was of you and how much you're growing up to be like her. I know she's watching you from heaven but I couldn't help but talk about how much you remind me of her. And how proud of you I am because of that" he insists.

"I miss her too" I admit and he laughs.

"So what's up? Anything new" he asks.

"Not really. Just working on the book and I was watching some old interviews and realized how much I missed you. Figured I should give you a call" I admit.

"Well I always enjoy talking to you. I hope you're doing good" he admits.

"I am. I just wanted to hear your voice" I sigh.

"And I miss you too."