I Don't Give A Puck

Chapter 1: #tbt

On my mom's side of the family, it's basketball: LeBron, The Heat, Kobe.  On my dad's side, its hockey: The Lighting, Crosby and Kane.  Both of my parents wanted me to play their sports, but to my dad's pleasure and my mom's disappointment, I chose hockey. 

                There was something about sliding on 1/8 inch blades over frozen water that caught my attention.  My younger twin brothers Drake and Eric can have basketball and my older sister Aliyah can have her Tennis.   Me, I got my hockey.

                I started playing hockey when I was five, a few months after I learned to skate.  When I was seven, I was bumped up to play with the 13 and 14 year olds, but due to lack of players, the program was shut down after a couple years.  I mean, this is Stuart, Florida, no one wants to stay cooped up on a rink, and they'd rather be on the beach playing in the sand or surfing.

                And so, at the last game I would play, when the third period ended, I skated over to the bench and cried my eyes out.  The passion I had for hockey; nobody understood.  My dad came over to console me and I dabbed my eyes on a towel.  It's probably the last time I'll see this rink, I thought to myself, sobbing quietly.

                Suddenly, a man walked toward us from across the ice. 

                He was rather interesting man, someone my 13 year old self had never seen before.  He was stocky, his bloated stomach barely restrained by the thick black belt tied around his waist.  He wore an ugly mustard yellow jacket a white button down shirt that had a few coffee stains splattered across.  His graying hair was combed across his balding head and his piercing black eyes stared us down from behind a pair of half moon glasses.  The man approached my dad.

                "Is this your daughter?" he asked in a thick Minnesotan accent, nodding in my direction.

                My dad drew me in closer to him.  "Yes... Why do you ask?"

                "Well, in case you didn't know, we are starting a Tier 1 club in a few weeks and I've seen your daughter's skill.  When she's old enough, she can skate with us.  There aren't any rules in the USHL prohibiting women."

                He gave me a smile and handed my dad a business card from is breast pocket.  "She has real potential.  Make use of it."  And with that, the man walked away.

                I peeked over at the card.  It read: Donald Jenkins, University of Michigan Hockey Head Coach and Ex Olympic Men's Ice Hockey Player.  Underneath it was a phone number and email.  My dad smiled and tucked it into his pocket.