Here in Vermont, hockey is a big deal, and I really wanted to be in with the hype. Since I was little, my dream was to play ice hockey, to kick ass, to show others to not underestimate me.
I'm small, I know, and I didn't have a history with skating, but in 9th grade when someone told me the varsity girls team was looking for bodies, I signed up instantly.
Unfortunately, I guess I wasn't the body they wanted.
At the time I didn't know any upperclassmen and only one other freshman was liked by everyone. I was a nerd, I was different, I didn't have any knowledge of hockey, at all.
I was an embarrassment to the team.
My first day on the ice, I couldn't even get my skates on, and my coach didn't have time to teach me how to dress myself. My pads didn't fit and my skates weren't even sharp yet.
I got onto the rink, but the second my skates hit the ice I fell on my face. My helmet was loose, fell over my eyes and everyone laughed at me.
During first month or two, every day, that's how my practice would begin: I'd dress alone in a corner, in the less crowded locker room (we had two), I'd lace up and get on the ice by myself, completely separate from everyone else. I didn't feel welcome with the older girls, the more skilled and knowledgeable girls. The worst part was, there were team "managers" who were 8th graders that were hockey players too; they'd travel and practice with us, and they were so much better than me as well. This of course, made the upperclassmen love them because these girls actually had something to offer to the team, like talent.
The first two years of high school hockey was really hard, I felt so different, like an outcast. I didn't have junior hockey stories to tell and I was still picking up on the slang and lingo which goes with the sport, like what the heck is an ice? Practices were always tough, the girls would whisper in the locker room, everyone seemed to have an inside joke, I never knew what was going on and I was definitely not invited to team outings that weren't mandatory pasta parties.
That all changed when junior year came and we got a new coach.
The team had a complete turnover because after the previous season, we lost half the team to graduation. The new team was fresh, a few old bodies, but new girls and a new energy. It was great. I was getting more ice time and patience from my teammates and coaches. They wanted me to get better, and they guided me in the right directions, instead of ignoring me.
Our team became better, higher on the bracket for rankings, we got along.
Senior year was a glory year, even though there were only two seniors. We were second seed for Divistion II in VT at one point. I was starting defense, and stood out during practices regularly. People cheered me on during games, the parents knew who I was, they supported me. The best parents were the ones who had seen me struggle from the start, but was watching me play as if I had been on the ice since I was 10.
If I could go back in time, I still wouldn't have quit. I don't remember being so passionate and hard working for anything in my entire life other than learning to play hockey. There were countless nights where I'd come home from a game or practice and cry because the girls said something mean, the coach brushed me off, but that still didn't stop me. I wanted to prove everyone wrong and I wanted to show people that I can be a good athlete even if I hadn't been training since I could walk.
Through this experience, I learned a lot about myself, and gained respect from my parents, other players, coaches and other parents. They all knew that I had to learn how to stop, skate backwards, do crossovers, take sharp turns and stick handle all by myself.
I got to where I am today through a roller coaster of experience, but I made it, and that's all that matters.
If there's anything you should take out of this story, it is this: If you want to play a sport, (or anything really) and feel greatly passionate about it, don't give up. You will eventually reach excellence.
