As far as I know it was a beautiful day. The sun shining, birds singing, chipmunks making sweet, acorn scented bondage love. Truth is, I don’t remember much because it was a long ass time ago. I am, however, positive of the chipmunk shenanigans…somehow.
It was very early in my public hockey career (roughly 11-14 years ago). Jeff was a guy that came to play often. I remember him being tallish (5’11”-6’2″) and a pretty good hockey player. On a play where I was skating down the right side, going towards the Zamboni bay, I took a shot on an empty net (if there’s no goalie we play post) and what ensued has (haunted is too strong a word) stayed with me all these years.
How can you tell when a story from long ago is true to how you remember it? If you listen to some people it’s drastically different from either your own, or reality’s perception (purple monkey dishwasher). I choose to believe my version, not because I’m delusional or trying to soften the blow, but I know I can remember better than the other dinks. I honestly don’t think I’m deluding myself…or you.
When I took my shot, Jeff, playing defense, was coming in from my left hand side. He was leaning in, swiping his stick as to block or disrupt my shot. The follow through of my stick got him just above the eyeball. My shot went wide and I chased after, but I can still remember the moment when the play stopped. Jeff was down on his knees with a lot of blood on the ice.
“Weevey blinded a guy” is still said to this day and every time it legit hurts me. I understand the nuances of locker room talk/on ice talk blah, blah, blah that’s not what I mean. I’m fine with that, but it hurts on a personal level simply because I made everyday life harder for him. It doesn’t matter if it was more my remembering or others…I just hope he’s doing ok.
P.S. If I added gifs, does that make me a bad person?