The sport of hockey has taken me across North America. Hockey has caused me temper tantrums, injuries and tears. With all the ups and downs, why would I love the sport so much? Every time I would run onto the ice for a game or practice, time slowed down. From ages six to 20, hockey was a drug. Hockey really started to mean the world to me in high school, where bonds were formed on and off the ice as strong as family. I would sit in class and count down the minutes until we’d all be in the locker room throwing chirps around, having the time of our lives. The biggest group of misfits to be assembled all shoved in a locker room each day. The interactions are priceless and the memories are timeless. From the pregame pump-ups to the weekend shenanigans, I will never let the sport and what goes along with it out of my memory.

The hour or two each day to escape from actual life and act like however you wanted to with your best friends is something I will miss everyday, but I am saying goodbye as a sophomore in college. No reason besides that when it is time, it is time. Everyone gets "traded" to men's league at some point. So, goodbye to all the injuries, broken sticks, rolls of clear wheel, aggressive music, dull scissors, penalties, absurd cellies, creative chirps, big hits, big crowds, winning songs, locker boxing matches, inside jokes, absolute nukes, cross ice sauce, bar down shots, slew foots, bad calls, crazy stories, big victories, tough losses, blonde hair, the boys, kangaroo courts, but most importantly farewell to the game of hockey. Thank you for the ride of my life.