Life

Sixteen long hours after departing Indianapolis, we finally reached our destination. We pulled into the parking lot of the Marriott just off Interstate I-80 W in Boulder, Colorado. Since I had been to this hotel on a previous hockey tournament trip to the frigid west of Colorado, I began wishing I had brought my legendary whitetails trapper fur hat along for the journey to the wild wild west of Colorado. Mom and dad went inside and got the keys for room 196. I was so sick of riding in the car that I did not care what the room looked like as long as there was a bed for me to sleep on. As we entered the room, on the left there was the bathroom sink, a mirror, and a place to hang our “fancy" game day clothes. To the right, was the miniature bathroom. There was not enough space in there for a midget let alone a fully grown king kong of a man like my dad. Stepping out of the entranceway, there was a wooden dresser with a 26-inch television the type of size a colony of ants wouldn’t even   use to watch the latest   episode of A.N.T farm. By the large window, there was a small table. Two queen size beds sat on either side of the nightstand. The honeysuckle patterned quilts offset by the bamboo tone of the wall color gave me a vivid vibe of a 1960’s love shack in San Francisco full of hippies.
Awaking at 6:30 a.m. on an unforgettable frosty morning of December 15, 2006, I prepare for a long day. I put on my Indy Jr Ice tracksuit and my worn out Jesus sandals and headed to the continental breakfast of the Marriott to meet up the team. I wanted two golden-brown, buttermilk pancakes with warm maple syrup for breakfast.It took only ten minutes to get our food and what a relief that was considering my stomach sounded like there was a lion inside.By 7:30 a.m. my family is walking   down to the conference room to wish me luck and give me a kiss only a mother and son can understand. A kiss that is best described as a spartan mother kissing her son before he heads into battle. I...