Passions Never Forgotten.

I am not going to hash over what we all know about how The Wild are playing today. Trade deadline tomorrow, or anything else every other blogger is doing today. Instead, I am going to share with you a blog I read the other day from “Live It, Eat It, Breathe It: Hockey.” You should really read the post that inspired this one here!

How many jerseys, pucks, or other hockey memorabilia do you have lying around? I think as hockey fans we all have a lot, and in some cases, way too much. Who am I kidding, there is no such thing!  I went through my puck wall the other day. One thing I was taught growing up, if you love something, and want memories to remain forever, you do whatever it takes to bring back that moment in time. For every signed puck I have on my wall, I also have a note and picture attached to the back. I do not purchase signed pucks, I get them “on the fly.” From being tossed over the glass, to seeing players after the game, to waiting in line, to a fluke meet in a Target. Anything is possible.

I pulled a few off and looked at them. St. Louis Blues vs North Stars, playoffs 1985. I remember it. All of it. Gilles Meloche killed it with shutout, and threw me the game winning puck. Oh to be a kid again!! Was it a day that changed my life? You bet it was. Not because of the win, not because it was the playoffs, not even because I had the game winning puck. It was because it was what I hold near and dear to my heart, a passion never to be tainted, or taken away from me. It was a game of hockey. A “simple” game of hockey.

How about the puck from MSU Mavericks from Trevor Bruess, even though it was not even hockey season? Signed in a convenience store locally? Is it the fact that he was not an ass about it? That he loved that I asked? Or was it just about hockey? Another puck off the wall, that means the world to me. And that silly puck I got at a squirts game a few years back in Waseca. The kid signed it for me and he was in a awe that I asked. So was I when he signed it. Hockey, it is better than anything I know. Every puck has a meaning, a memory, and always makes me smile.

Jerseys are another thing. As fans we not love reppin’ our team, or favourite player. Or is it more than that. Myself, I have a jersey fetish, just as much as a shoe fetish! [ See -> good thing it is not skates! ] I have more jerseys than I can fit in one closet. Actually they hang in several. I have a hockey budget and limit myself to 7 a year. That gets me to, if I am lucky, December. Look at the Kings throwbacks. Is this not a must for any hockey fan? Next on my list as soon as I figure out what player. Chances are Jonathon Quick gets the nod. Although a lot of them may never be worn, there is a note attached on each as to “why” I got it. What was I doing when I decided, what game was I watching, what blog was I reading. Something made me do it. Something…

Jerseys are not something I get signed, ever. They are just way too beautiful in my eyes to be “graffitified.” Although I have a few signed from years back, and I would not change it, I will never have an autograph on a jersey again. I played in school for 5 years, and every jersey [ See-> or should I say HUGE silky-like t-shirts? ] is on my ceiling in my “woman cave.” Yes guys, we have them too! I still have all my goalie equipment from back then, and all of it just hangs in the corner. Dad memories, as well as hockey memories. Precious, so very precious to me.

The funny thing is I call it my “zen room.” I rarely go down there. It is mine and my peace of mind. But I try to live life that way all the time. I have nothing hockey anywhere else in my house except my closets upstairs. When I do go down, it is an emotional rush, one that unless you have experienced it, is beyond comprehension. The green and yellow seats from the old Met Center. So uncomfortable to sit in! But I would take them back in heartbeat, as opposed to the “cush” ones at The Xcel Energy Center anyday!

My room has never been seen by anyone else. It is a huge room of MY memories, MY life, MY passion. Not my daughter G, or even my dogs. I even have a “few” signs from the doors of the Xcel Energy Center saying what game was playing that night, that I rip off the window of the doors when I leave after a loss. Yup, those have memories, too!

Remember, pictures are not everything. Leave a letter, a post it, anything that will bring back that rush, that emotion, that passion. All that “stuff” really does have meaning to you, and never let any of that go. I know I never will.

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