Dear Hockey,
This is said with a heavy heart, but it is time
to say goodbye. No, I won't be out of your life; I just won't be around as much
anymore. This little kid that dreamt of playing at your highest level is
turning the page and moving on to the next chapter of his life, and for the
first time in my twenty-five years on this earth, you will not be my number one
focus. It's sad, scary, and exciting.
I was only two when I first met you, and it
wasn't long until I was head-over-heels in love. I couldn't get enough of you.
During the winter months, when practicing all afternoon wasn't enough, bright
spotlights would illuminate my backyard ice rink at night. When summer came
around, and most people thought we should take a break, there were endless
2-on-2 games in the driveway with my three brothers. When fall practices began
in middle school, and they weren't supposed to start until 7:30AM, I was on
that ice every single day before 6:00AM.
Do you remember those 6AM skates? They are some
of my favorite memories of us. There is something so pure about stepping on a
new sheet of ice with no one else in the arena. I can still feel it now; the
crunch of my skates as I carved those first few strides, the tears that welled
up in my eyes as that blast of cold air hit my face on my first lap, and the
thunderous crack of my stick as I let that first shot go. Like a painter
staring at a blank canvas, the possibilities were endless. I had no rhyme or
reason for the things I would do during those skates. There was no structure to
my drills, no specific skill I was working on. I wasn't out there early because
I needed to get better; I was out there early because I didn't know better. All
I knew at the time was that I would rather spend an extra hour and a half with
you than spend it doing anything else.
What I learned though, was the harder I worked
for you, the more you gave back. Those endless days and nights placed me on
some of the best youth teams growing up. By the time I was 12, you had taken me
to more states and countries than 99% of the kids my age. Those 6AM skates would
end up taking me away from home at the age of 14. My sophomore year I found
myself in Connecticut wearing crimson for the number one prep school team in
the country, The Salisbury School. One year and one New England Championship
later, I was off to Ann Arbor, Michigan to play for the US National Team. For
the next two years I'd be sporting the red, white, and blue while representing
my country in tournaments at home and across the world. Then colleges came a
calling, and I would soon find myself throwing on a familiar shade of crimson.
Without you, I imagine my name would have never
crossed Harvard University's directory. But there I was, after 18 years of
devotion to you, I was attending one of the most prestigious colleges in the
world, lacing up the skates for one of the most storied programs in college
hockey, and my senior year, captaining this same team.
By the end of my senior season, it had been
eight years since I first left home for you. I left family and friends and missed
countless holidays, and I only returned to Rochester, New York for the summer
months. For eight years, I hadn't played a single game at home. However, being
the poet that you are, you gave me an opportunity I will never forget.
From the ages of 6 to 12, I played for one
youth team, The Rochester Americans. We got our name from our hometown's
professional American Hockey League team with the same name. I grew up going to
their games and cheering on the "Amerks". These were the first
professional hockey games I got to watch and I could only dream of what it
would be like to play at the same level.
When my final season at Harvard concluded, I
got the call of my lifetime. My hometown’s Rochester Americans were on the
other line. I was going to be heading back home, and for the first time in
eight years, I was going to be playing in a competitive game there.
Remember how I said there’s something special
about skating alone in an empty rink? Well, there’s also something about playing
in front of a packed arena. Over the years, I have had the opportunity to play
in front of some impressive crowds and in some historic arenas. There were the
15,000 screaming Russian fans at the Under-18 World Championships. There were
the rowdy Boston locals that packed Boston’s TD Garden for the annual Beanpot
games against BC, BU, and Northeastern. There were even fans that hated my team
so much that they threw fish at us (Cornell).
However, none of these can ever compare to the feeling I had of finally
coming back home and stepping on the ice for my first shift as a Rochester
American. Yes, my story with you had finally come full circle. But what really
excited me was that nearly all of my family was in the crowd for that game. I felt
like I was seven years old again, skating around and just scanning the bleachers
for the familiar face of my parents or grandparents.
The announcers introduced me over the
loudspeaker as I prepared for the faceoff, welcoming me back home, and the
crowd erupted. I knew that somewhere in the crowd, my parents, brothers, sister,
grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and I’m sure several friends cheered
along with them. I held back tears waiting for that puck to drop. I could’ve
walked away from you that day and forever been satisfied.
But for three more years I gave you my life,
jumping at every opportunity, in hopes that one-day, just maybe, I’d get a
chance at the big times. I never did make the NHL, but you sure took me for an
exciting ride. I bet you laughed at me along the way as I tried to make plans.
I never knew where you would be taking me next, but I am happy the way things
turned out. From Toronto to Germany and then South Carolina to Scotland, you
sure had a funny way of showing me around. So as I lace up my skates here for my
last game, albeit in the capital of Scotland, I want to thank you for the
places we’ve gone together.
I also want to thank you for all the friends
you have made me. Sure, they started out as teammates, but as I’m sure you have
witnessed, time and time again, these teammates somehow always turn into
brothers. Remember all those holidays away from home? It was those teammates
that filled that void. We would spend more than four hours together at the
arena, only to leave the rink and willingly decided to spend the rest of the
day with these same teammates. That’s crazy! I have made lifelong friends
through you.
I want you to know that my family sends their
best as well. I know they’ll definitely miss seeing us together, that’s for
sure. They were there from the beginning, and if it wasn’t for them, I can
guarantee you I wouldn’t be in this position today. They were there for every
high and every low along the way. Every time I wanted to spend more time with
you, my parents made sure I got that opportunity. The countless games and
practices they took me to, those 6AM skates, without them, there is no us. And
to think, they did this all just to see me move away from them at an early age.
Yet, they continued to come and watch me. I don’t even want to think about how
many miles they have put on their cars or the number of sleepless nights spent
driving to catch one of my games.
I’m not afraid to move on. I am excited for the
future. I know that everything you have taught me will allow me to succeed. There
will still be early mornings and endless nights, new adventures and new
friends, and I can only hope that I embrace them with the same love and passion
as I did for you.
Thanks again for everything, old friend.
Ryan
