A loss at the end of a tournament usually stings for a few minutes. This photo was taken during one of those moments. While I snapped it quickly….while juggling my coffee and my mittens and fumbling for my hotel key, I kind of treasure it because it speaks volumes about Finn and his childhood. That little left hand has dragged a hockey bag in and out of 100s of rinks….in so many states…and two countries. Those sticks in his right hand mean the world to him. He picks out sticks like an adult shops for a car…..and they become an extension of his body. There’s always one in his hand. The pompom hat on his head and the “Finn #21” on his arm will no doubt be how I picture him years from now when he’s all grown up (sigh) and I reflect on his childhood. Finn often needs a moment right after a game….this is that moment. While I love this photo, it does not, however, speak to the friendships, the laughs, and the memories that were just made…the milkshake out the nose moments, the knee hockey, the team dinners, the pranks…. Those mean just as much to Finn…..they are just as much of his uniform and gear….and while not visible….he carries those in and out of rinks just as sacredly. Fortunately, both the players and the parents are able to rebound quickly from the loss when they take pause to remember all that hockey adds to their lives. I’m so lucky for how hockey has enriched our lives. Finn got in the car this morning to head to school and said, “I miss Waterville already.” Me too, buddy.






















































