Last year for my 21st birthday, my younger sister bought us each one of those mail-in DNA testing kits. It was all fun and games until we received the results. I’ve spent the last year searching for my biological father, only to find he passed away a few years ago. But what I did find was a half-brother. He’s a professional hockey player, and I’m in town to attend one of his games. We’ve talked numerous times on the phone and even over video chat, but tomorrow is the first time I will meet him in person.
Hockey has been my life for as long as I can remember. The early years of my professional career are a hazy mix of alcohol and puck bunnies. But I haven’t been that guy in over seven years, deciding early on that I wouldn’t be ruled by any skills other than my hockey skills. The puck bunnies still throw themselves at me, but I stay out of the limelight, choosing to hang out in the quiet hotel restaurants for a quick meal before returning to my room to rest up before games.