Mite Maroon: A Storybook Season
This post is dedicated the kids and parents of our Mite Maroon team. Coach Joe, Coach Gary and myself were very fortunate to get the opportunity to coach such an incredible group. The development we saw in these kids from first practice to last was borderline unbelievable. Every single kid improved by leaps and bounds, and every single one of them tried their best all season long to achieve that. Every single kid was respectful, kind, and a good teammate both on and off the ice. Every single one of these kids is a hockey player.
Special props to the parents. All of us coaches know that it starts with you guys. You got them to the rink 3-4 times a week, got them dressed in their gear (not easy), woke up before the sun for most games, and encouraged your kids to be the best athletes that they can be day in and day out. You parents deserve special credit for doing all that you did these past 7 months. 7 months!! Thank you for making this a storybook season for your kids and their coaches. I’m going to cherish this experience for as long as I live.
(You can click on each picture to see a larger version, and if you right-click on an image and choose “Save image as…” you can save it to your computer. Both of those things should be possible with your phones as well, but the method differs depending on your type of phone.)
The Story of Grem and Acer
Two lemons to be exact. Two lemons of little note. Exactly the way the two of them wanted it. For the most part…
“What do I care?” Grem whined in his shrill voice. “It’s better off they never notice us. We aren’t supposed to be noticed, remember?”
“You’re always so dramatic,” complained Acer. “I’m bored and this is getting old. Nobody ever notices us anyways.” And so went the argument they were having once again, an argument they seemingly had almost every single day. If it was up to Grem they would stay out of the spotlight and never have any fun, but Acer wanted more. Acer wanted a life that was more than just hiding. They were always hiding! Hiding as if they were criminals.
The two of them actually being criminals was not the point, thought Acer.
“How about we just test the waters and see what’s out there?” asked Acer.
“That’s not our life. That’s not who we are,” stated Grem as if this was absolute.
“The little one’s noticed us, you know?” Acer said with a nervous, sidelong glance.
“I know,” grumbled Grem in frustration. “He’s had his on eye us for a while now. We have to watch out for that one.”
Much to Acer’s delight, it didn’t take long for Grem’s suspicions to prove true. Before either of them knew what was happening, they found themselves pulled directly into the spotlight.
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Confessions of the Lost: Her Fight in the Snow
She crouched behind the crumbled remnants of an old, stone wall and waited.
She could hear them breathing, hear the slight movements of their hands and arms coming from the signals they gave each other about her perceived whereabouts. This, along with the crunch of snow beneath their boots and sharp intakes of breath from the frigid air they were breathing gave away their exact locations. But, it was clear they did not know where she was. Knowing her location was unacceptable.
And why would they know where she was? Boys. They sent boys to kill her.
The last light of the day was slowly fading below the trees and their shadows began to stretch across the earth as if reaching for her from across a great distance. “Join the club,” she thought.
She wasn’t sure which was the bigger insult — that her ex-captors still wanted her dead after what they did to her, or that they sent these boys all this way to finish the job. After robbing her emotion and feeling, you would think they would leave it at that. Be satisfied that that was enough. That to leave her alone with the memories of their brand of torture would be punishment enough for her escape.
Alone, she was. Left alone, she was not.
She would always be alone after what they did to her. Nobody could possibly know how she felt, what she experienced in those caves. Nobody that was alive, at least. Women never left those caves, only entered. She was the first. She was on a mission of firsts, and if all went accordingly to plan, also of lasts. She, the one for whom the shadows were cast.
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To Our Mother; My Wife
Always there for me: in the middle of the night, when I get off the school bus, to hug me when I’m feeling happy as well as sad.
Underappreciated: there will come a day when I truly recognize and appreciate all that you have done for me and all the effort you gave to make me who I am, but for now, just know I love you unconditionally.
Sacrificer: something else I won’t fully appreciate until I’m older, but rest assured I’m taking it all in: your patience given, time dedicated, energy spent, love spread.
Teacher: you’ve taught me many things big and small, and will continue doing so for the rest of your life, but it’s those basic fundamentals I want to make a special point to thank you for — a critical life skill as well as a way to better enjoy pool parties with family or friends, our time spent at the beach … thank you for teaching me to swim.
Intelligent and strong: our entire family draws upon your strength daily and benefits from your intelligence just as often – teacher and educator, backbone and glue.
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