when i was growing up in south philly, my family didn’t have much money.  but being kids, my brother and i did what kids do anyway.  we played roller hockey without helmets, gloves, shin pads… pretty much any protective equipment at all.  i tended goal with nothing but leg pads, a — what we called it back in those days — waffle board, a baseball glove, and a stick (all of which was borrowed, hand-me downs, or bought with my paper route money).  i’ve been hit with sticks and pucks in the face, and had more than my share of scrapes and bruises.  looking back at it — it was stupid.  it was dangerous.  but i loved playing hockey!

fast forward about 10-12 years, and i’m wearing a suit and tie — screaming at my team from behind the bench at the penn state ice pavilion with my heart beating out of my chest in my first game as assistant coach for the ACHA division 2 ice hockey team.  my love of hockey that was sown on the streets of philadelphia is the only reason i was able to reach that point in my life.  we beat SUNY stony brook that night by a score of 3-2 — the #1 ranked team in the league.  it was one of the greatest wins in our program’s history, and was the staging point for a season-long run that put us into the quarterfinals of the national tournament in fort collins, colorado that year.

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