Kind Hearted (Patrick Kane)

55- A Whole New World

Victoria

The only good thing about being dirt poor growing up is that now that I'm older I appreciate a lot more things. Things that most people don't ever think about are truly exciting to me. And that makes what things that do other people are excited about a absolutely amazing experience for me.

We arrive in Russia late the first night and the very first thing we did was sleep. I wanted to look around and get my feet wet, but I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I've never experienced jet lag before and to be honest I wasn't missing out on all that much with that. It kinda sucked. But eventually I get caught up on sleep and could actually enjoy my experience here.

Once the jet lag wore off it was finally time to look around. It was the first stamp I had in the only passport I've ever had and it was about time to explore this whole new world I was a part of.

"This is absolutely incredible" I gasp as I look around. Everything was so different here. But different doesn't mean ugly, different can be beautiful.

"How do you know what looks good? None of this stuff is in English" Patrick notices.

"You don't have to understand things to enjoy it. There's a lot of things I don't understand about hockey but I still love it" I defend.

"Okay. True enough. But I'm not sure what to think about this place" he insists.

"Don't think with your head, think with your heart" I say.

"My heart wants to stay inside cuddled up with you all day" he says as he wraps his arms around me before giving me a little squeeze.

"And my heart wants to know what's out there in this world. It wants to experience things I would never know otherwise. It wants to see what things I know look like outside of what I know. It wants adventure and knowledge and so much more" I explain.

"Okay. Your heart wins" he claims.

"My heart doesn't win" I argue.

"Your heart is more kind and more pure than any other heart out here" he argues.

"Everyone's heart is special. No one's is more superior than the others" I insist.

"I still like your heart the best" he claims and I smile.

"Good. Because it's made specially for you" I promise.

After we walk around for a while we scope out the ice rink where a lot of the games would be taking place. Since it was the Olympics this place wasn't just for hockey. There was also ice skating and speed skating and other cool things here. But for now this was for hockey where they were doing prelim games while the women's teams were in elimination games. The men's team was doing pretty good and I thought it was cool to have a team USA jersey now to go with my Blackhawks ones. A lot of things to be proud of.

"I think it's really cool what you do" I admit as we sit on the other side of the glass. The ice just a foot away. Patrick and I had found a seat and watched as the zamboni clean up the ice for the next game.

"You like hockey" he asks.

"I love it. But I think you play differently than everyone else" I claim.

"How so" he wonders.

"You move along the ice differently than anyone else I've ever seen. I can always find you on the ice because you're so smooth, like homemade peanut butter. And the way you elude people, it's like poetry in motion. It's like they can't find you, but I always can. Sometimes I think the puck is tied to your stick because you're so good with it. Within seconds you can make a crisp pass or score and no one even realizes the puck is gone. I think you play the game like it should be played. With passion and skill and talent and dedication. No one does it quite like you. And after all the Stanley cups and the conn smyth and the Calder, to put on this team USA jersey and be able to play for your nation on the biggest stage. Well that's something special" I insist.

"I'm sure there's plenty of America people who would want me in a different jersey" he claims.

"And they're stupid" I claim and he gasps.

"Woah... language" he shuns and I roll my eyes.

"I'm serious. Anyone who doesn't want you out there playing for them is lying to themselves. There isn't another player in this world I would put on my team before you. You're just 25 years old and look at what you've done so far. You're incredible. And ask any of the guys in your or the other locker room they would at the same thing. Jonny hates the fact he has to play you because he knows there's no way he can play against you. You're too unpredictable and skilled to plan against. The kind of stuff you have can't be taught. It has to be god give and Patrick... it was given to you" I explain.

"You really think that" he asks with a small smile on his lips.

"I might not know everything there is to know about hockey. But I know enough to know that you're special. I know that you are one of a kind and that there will never be another player like you. Not at the Olympics or in the nhl. Not here or back in America or in Canada. You're the best there is and that's all there is to it" I explain.

"I'm not the best" he argues.

"Are you trying your best" I ask.

"Of course" he assures me.

"Then congratulations, you're the best. You don't have to be better than everyone to be the best. Just better than you were yesterday" I claim.

"Where have you been my whole life" he asks.

"In Detroit with your nemesis" I tease and he laughs.

"We don't have to bring that up" he promises.

"Good" I smile.

We finish our welcome to Russia tour in the Olympic village. Patrick and I pick out some cute momentous to take back home. I know a lot of people in the hospital who would appreciate these things so I try to grab enough for everyone. After spending way more than I ever imagined I would in one place we head back to get ready for a dinner with his family. I pull on the dress that Patrick got me all that time ago and smile. It was still my favorite outfit to wear. I pull on Patrick's great grandmothers neckalce and smile. How lucky am I?