
I envision hockey practice to be really cold and miserable,
as I don’t see myself, any of my sisters or my mom crawling out of bed before
5:00 am on an icy Montreal morning to drag a body bag to the arena in exchange
for hot cocoa. Maybe my dad would since he’s an early riser and activity nut,
but judging by our love of Barbie dolls the only hockey we’d end up with as
kids were the Mighty Ducks. From what
I’ve heard, others put their moms through the ringer in an attempt to tough out
an NHL career. From practice to games to out of town tournaments to whatever
else was necessary to keep the dream alive, mom was there. And now according to
these Hockey Hall of Fame commercials I've been seeing lately, most hockey dreams
die, so consider her wee-hour contributions to your busted career a true token
of love and support.
If my assumptions are correct, being a hockey mom is extremely
difficult to deal with. What with fast pucks, occasional fighting and ‘to make
or not make the cut’ just being necessary parts of the game, it's even more unfair that you litter her home with stinky equipment. And don’t even get me started on concussions
in sports; it must have been a free for all back in the day! After watching the Washington
Capitals force their way to consecutive Game 7’s, including grinding out a
triple overtime loss along the way, I’ve seen Mrs. Holtby enough to know she’s
had her fair share of heart troubles this past month, and over the course of
Brayden’s hockey career.

So thank you mom, and Happy Mother’s Day,
xoxo,
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.