Was playing hockey with Bob, Costa, and Chuck today on the tough streets of Robson Park. There was a surprisingly large crowd, complete with two goalies! I can't even recall the last time I played a street hockey game with two goalies. Unfortunately the days greatness didn't continue. About mid way through one of the games I ran into the side of the net and my stick got caught in the netting, jabbing the other end right into my stomach. Luckily or unluckily the stick snapped, I almost rather have taken that hit if it meant preserving the stick.
I've had the Easton composite stick for quite a few years now. Different replacement blades have come and gone, but old faithful was always there. This stick was a trooper. Grinding out goals, hacking over zealous oppositions, blocking vicious slashes, this stick was the epitome of team player. And although it will never see another pass, another goal, another game, it's legacy has been solidified as the benchmark of one the sports greatest.
A piece of me laid broken on the floor today. Everything was left out on the rink today, and there's no better way to leave the game.
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