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Which Hazel would have been able to see through in a second.
Not living in the city where you played made life difficult.
And I wasn’t going to ask Hazel to come with me.
Instead of getting naked and having fun, Hazel fell asleep.
I held her and stayed wide awake most of the night, trying to think of a way to make it work.
The only thing that truly came to mind was retiring.
Just calling it quits, cashing out and figuring out the rest of my life with Hazel and our daughter.
While I wasn’t living on contracts the size of Sebastian’s or Jago’s, I did have a lot of money sacked away that I could easily live off of for the rest of my life.
But I didn’t want to stop playing hockey.
Hockey was my first love. My only true love.
Until I met Hazel. Until I felt the first punch and kick from our daughter in Hazel’s womb.
All the emotions mixed together like a toxic soup and produced one thing.
Raw anger.
That’s why I skated up the ice the way I did.
The arena was starting to fill up.
I wanted to give everyone a show.
I stopped at center ice and watched Colorado skate.
Their biggest defenseman stood six-five and was built like a boxer.
“Hey, Hatch!” I called out.
He looked at me.
“Fuck yourself,” I said. “Go near any of my guys again and I’ll break your fucking jaw.”
When the fans noticed what was happening they started to cheer.
Then the coaching staff saw it.
Then the refs.
Hatch skated toward me, along with three other players.
I knew my team would have my back too.
Hatch came for me and slapped his stick to mine.
I hacked my stick at his, breaking both of our sticks.
Then I grabbed him and pulled him toward me.
The place erupted.
