Shadows (Patrick Kane)

(72) Better Late Than Never

Patrick

The second series this post season was a lot different than the first. We handle the Wild in four short games and I had much better going than I did the first time around against the Predators. I had five goals in the four games and Crow had returned to his elite form. There is no such things as easy series in the playoffs but that is about as easy as it gets.

So now we have to await who we play in the western conference finals. We want to stay sharp but ten day breaks don't come around often in hockey and even more rarely in the playoffs so we wanted to take advantage of this unusual down time. Sophia takes off with my sisters to Six Flag in Gurnee and since it's not really a good idea for me to do such a thing in the middle of playoffs I stay home and ice my collar bone. It isn't in pain but it doesn't feel great either so I listen to my doctors and take it easy. I decide to sit down and write because that's the only time I seem to get to say what I want to and not feel like I'm going to throw up in the process.

"Dear Posey,

When I was in school writing was my least favorite thing to do. I hated reading, sucked at math and was okay at science. But I would do any of those before I had to write. I never had much of an imagination so I would sit at my desk staring at a sheet of paper trying to figure out what words go where. My teachers used to get on me. Say "Patrick isn't there anything that inspires you?" And of course there was. I am a mixing pot of my parents and my sisters and my grandparents. Hockey, music, basketball, friendships, tv shows, so much. I wasn't some bland kid with nothing to write about, I just didn't know how.

As I got older I struggled to communicate, taking what I finally wrote down and sharing it with people. It wasn't that I couldn't write anymore, I just didn't know how to express myself. I wasn't sure the words were what could truly bring what I was feeling to light. So I was quiet, didn't talk all that much unless I was on the ice. I wasn't shy but I wasn't talkative either. Just was trying to grow up and for people to understand me.

Few ever did. I tried dating and I never connected with someone. I felt like they saw the blank paper I've been trying to put words on since I was a kid and just assumed I had nothing better to say. The words were there but they couldn't see them, like it was invisible ink that few ever cracked the code on. They were like my teachers, believing that I had no words. No feelings.

Then you came along and the words were pouring out of me. Passionate. Ambitious. Diligent. Inspiring. Evasive. Loved. You were able to look at the blank page and you didn't just brush it off. You took a pen and handed it to me so I can show the world those words that were so hard to see. Challenged me to think about everything I tried so I had to think about it. And little by little I was writing my story. I wrote my way out of a place so dark I never thought I would see the light.

You, you were my light. My world. My pen and my paper. You've shown me what it means to be a man, a real one with feelings and hopes and love. So much love. And while I still can't express my feelings, read these words off these papers. They're there and I can attest to them. It's progress, and someday, hopefully soon, I will have the strength to share these beautiful words with you. The words that are only here because you inspired me enough to use them.

And I hope these words can show just how much you mean to me.

Love, Patrick."

I tuck the note away with the others before going to bother my parents. They were hanging out in their hotel watching some of the other games going on and I join them. I can see who my next opponent might be and get a head start.

"Look at you, you're glowing" my dad accuses.

"I'm not sure life gets too much better than this" I admit as I nod my head.

"Another cup would be nice" he teases.

"It would be. But I think, for the first time ever, I know that if we don't win it all it won't be the end of the world. I still have you guys and Sophia and Henry and a wonderful life far greater than anything I would ever ask for.

But I still want the cup" I chuckle.

"I do too. But no matter what we love you. And we couldn't be more proud of you. Not just for overcoming this injury and making us proud for sharing the same last name. But for being able to say things like that. Knowing that outside this game you are so much more than what you are on the ice. It's taken you eight seasons to come to see what we always knew" he claims.

"Better late than never huh" I ask.

"Better late than never" he agrees.

We spend the night watching the games, yelling at the tv and comparing notes. I know a lot of people think we go home and we forget about hockey but we don't. At least not in my case. Watching games with my parents feels like the good old days. Only now I know how these guys play because I play against them. I know what hand they shoot with and what position they play. I know their tendacies and it makes watching games that much more fun. Anything can happen in the playoffs. Everyone starts with a blank paper like me. It's usually the guys you don't think about that ends up being a hero a lot of time. And that's the beauty of it, the stories that get written in times like this.

"So you really live and breathe hockey huh" Sophia asks.

"I do. A lot of my good memories stem from a couch, a tv and a hockey game. It's one of those things that are timeless. I hope that someday when I have kids they too can remember sitting under their old mans arm listening to old tales about what hockey used to be like back in the day" I admit.

"That's a wonderful dream you have Patrick" she smiles.

"I'm hoping it's going to come true. I just need time" I claim.