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WHAT MY LIFE COULD HAVE BEEN
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I was about six years old when my father took me to my first hockey game. I never even knew what hockey was until that moment. I was so excited; I fell in love with the game right away and started playing in no time. Now granted I didn’t know how I would do when I got older; I just wanted to play hockey. Through the years of playing, I signed up for every hockey school I could. I played all year round, never taking a break. I went to hockey camps, hockey schools, and even took figure skating. You have to remember something; it was never heard of hockey players taking figure skating school at that time. I did everything and anything I could to make myself better out on the ice. After many years of playing, hockey finally got to me and I started to burn out. I was at the point where I should have been playing harder to stand out for scouts. I slacked off and didn’t care. I could have played professional hockey, and I kick myself for quitting at the prime of my life. When I started playing in my younger years, I was no different than the others on the ice. I would trip over my own skates or run into the boards, even fall on my ass with no one around to blame. I was lying on the ice more then standing on my skates. There was one time I remember the most, it was my first year playing. I had the puck and another kid and I both fell down after skating into each other. Next thing I knew, all the other kids on both sides of the teams were falling on me. They were coming to get the puck and they couldn’t stop either.
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