I never thought the time would come.
On Saturday, I read an email from Max's coach. Shock, there is no other word for the news of hearing about a senior hockey player from Viewmont who overdosed, his parents will never be the same.
Throughout the last 9 years of my life, I dedicated my life to my son's playing hockey. Some of the first memories are of them roller blading around the garage making up situations in their head. They both did it. It’s the championship game in overtime, and the puck is on their stick.
Max met his first friends through hockey, many of whom he still plays with to this day. There’s something about the game that creates untouchable bonds between a group of people. Bonds that distance doesn’t break, which is something so rare.
One thing you learn early in hockey, is how much more important “we” is than “I.” The things Markus says he likes most aren’t scoring goals, big breakaways and back-door feeds. He loves the locker room, the road trips, the stories, the chirps, the parties, the heads that turn when everyone walks into the rink together, and just the overall family that is created when a team is clicking.
“Hockey is life” lives deep inside him.
There is something to be said about hockey players. They're a breed unlike any other, it's true the only way to understand it is if you have been a part of it. It’s never just a team, it’s a family. You will fight with your family, but when it comes down to it there isn’t a thing in the world you wouldn’t do to look after them.
Hockey has taught my boys more about life than anything else on earth. They learn about discipline, courage, toughness, teamwork and communication. On the ice, as in life, the person who is rewarded is the person who works and reaches the farthest.
While the amount of turmoil I went through growing up pales in comparison to many others, the ice was always my therapy. You can’t ever skate away from your problems, but you can at least avoid them for the hour or two you are at the rink. When I step on the ice, life is perfect and all my problems have been resolved for the time being.
There’s a reason why it’s much easier to go to the rink at 6 a.m. than it is for work or school.
When life gave me adversity, hockey was my counseling. Most of the time, Max didn’t know how to act or what to say. Markus is a strong boy who refused to accept what was happening. But when they are on the ice playing in front of me, they always know where I am. After games, I love to be the first to greet them both. Win or lose, I don't care. I know they are happy.
During those moments at the rink, nothing is wrong.
We’ve already fallen in love with the game because we know it’s something that will never leave us.
Hockey never gets divorced; Hockey never dies. There is always a clean sheet of ice somewhere. There is always a net to be sniped, and that first breath of cold air when stepping onto the ice is a feeling that can’t be replaced.
Without hockey, my life would mean little. Without the people I’ve met through hockey, my life would mean less.
The young man whose memory was honored tonight with donations from each of our players will be matched by team funds as well. It won't help to take away the pain his family will forever feel, but it might help his hockey family to feel like they have contributed in a small way.
Rest in peace Cade.
