The roar of the crowd overwhelms me as I grind my teeth anxiously waiting for the referee’s signal.
The screech of the whistle shrieks through my ears as one step leads to two, and two to three.
The puck connects with my blade and I cradle it down the ice.
First left picking up speed.
Then slowing down shifting back to the right
The goaltender stares me down, our eyes almost linking.
He feels confident in his ability.
But I have a trick up my sleeve.
I get closer to the net with every second…no, millisecond
With one last pump fake, I release the puck
The snap of my wrist echoes into the clap of the blade hitting the puck.
Time slows as the ringing of the crossbar forces me along with the 20,000 fans in the building to hold our breath, only to be saved by the red siren that causes a volcanic eruption of cheers as the pucks breaks the goal line.
I raise my arms uncontrollably as emotion takes over my body.
The game is won, and the Red Wings crest will raise the cup once more as the newest captain of the storied franchise completes the comeback to etch his name in history forever.
My arms are still raised as my stick, gloves, and helmet are tossed into the air.
My hoots and hollers are loud as ever, and a single voice chases me back into reality.
The ice in my head transforms back to concrete, my steel blades into wheels.
The packed barn of maniacs becomes the familiar 4812 Pacer Way driveway I decorated with chalk play off brackets. The crowd noise leaves my head, but the comforting voice of dad makes the dream feel possible.
As a 10-year-old kid, that was my dream.
A decade later, it’s not coming true. I will never score an NHL goal, and I will never hear my dad’s cheers again.
On paper, this really sucks in plain terms.
This entire oasis from my childhood, the perfect escape from PEMDAS and grade-school dilemmas is now completely absent from my life. There is no going back, there are no re-tries or do-overs.
This is starting to get a little dark, and for those who know me, it is a 180 from my usual “laugh when I’m not supposed to” persona.
Luckily, I have been blessed with perspective.
Perspective is vital towards our happiness in life. We all have dreams, some big with aspirations of millions of dollars or substantial power and some personal, like raising a happy family or rekindling a relationship with a loved one.
These dreams are statues in our life. They are the light at the end of the tunnel that keeps us going, keeps our legs churning and our hearts pumping through the pain, hardships and obstacles.
Our constant grind against the world elevates us over the obstacles. We meet unexpected inspirers at our new, exciting jobs and we are introduced to influences in our life in times of trouble. The dips of defeat tear us apart so we can be put back together by someone we’d never expect. The failures we face find us discovering ourselves in places we’ve never looked, whether it is a cross country move carrying us to a new path or a hometown visit that makes it feel brand new.
My message to you is this – chase your dreams. Put your blood, sweat and tears into achieving your goal in life, into accomplishing all the unrealistic aspirations your 10-year-old self craved.
Use your truest ambitions to work, succeed, fail, love, be hated and be bet against.
Your dreams may not come true.
You could be me, riding home on a bus looking back, wondering why you even tried.
Contemplating your entire life.
Were you stupid for trying? Was the disappointment worth it?
Your demons will crawl up your back gnawing away at your self-image.
Your dreams down the drain swirling away from your grasp.
It’s time to wake up.
You did not accomplish your dreams.
You lived them.
Jack Mueller is a Clarkston News intern and a defenseman for the USPHL’s Metro Jets junior hockey team in Fraser.
(Photo by G-Force Photography)