I've taken my bows and my curtain calls. You've brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it. I thank you all.
Friday, June 12, 2015. 13-3. 1 goal. 1 twisted knee.
Frustration.
That is how my hockey career ended.
I played my final season alongside my son. We had some victories. I scored some big goals. I watched my son become a leader on the rink. So I guess it wasn't all bad.
I decided to stop playing because I have lost my love of the game. I didn't see it coming at first. There were signs, but I guess my mind was made up after a game on April 17 of this season. During that game, I saw my team self destruct and afterwards they didn't seem to care. Was I the only one that was embarrassed by that display? Judging by everyone's reaction, the answer was yes. I decided that night that I was done.
After that, every Friday came with a feeling of dread. I didn't feel like playing and I honestly could not wait for the season to end. My play and commitment suffered. I tried to draw on my love of the game. My respect for the game, but alas, for me the game was broken. I've played hockey off and on for over 45 years.
I'll miss it, most definitely.
But mostly, it hurts.
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