It took a lot of blood and a few stitches to enjoy watching hockey with my dad. I was never interested in hockey or sports in general for most of my life. That is, until the Spring Break my brother hit me in the eye with a rock using a jumbo baseball bat. To explain, he had thought it was a good idea to hit rocks into our neighbor’s yard. When I realized he was partaking in this activity it was already too late. I was standing in his line of fire and I screeched for him to hold back. He couldn't react in time, and neither could I. The way it hit me I couldn’t even feel it. I just fell to the ground and stared into the carmine shaded waterfall that drenched my eye and dripped past my chin and onto my monkey graphic T-shirt. I wobbled to my feet …show more content…
After all of this work, one of the pucks ended up finding it’s way to the goal. I looked at my dad and cheered. He stared directly back at me and hugged me out of joy. The level of happiness I experienced in that moment was overwhelming. It was like my dad and I were connected. The true nature of sports had finally become apparent to me. The game brought people together. Seeing all of the fans in the stadium all share a common bond with the players and how my dad and I had reacted to their goal was incredible. That was about five years ago. Now I’m seventeen and I still watch almost every Ranger game with my dad. Each game brings us closer together, sparking various conversations about hockey and other topics that may have never been discussed had we not watched together. Watching hockey with my dad is more than just a leisurely activity to take part in after a long day of school, it is a joyous observance of our common traits and interests. While my father and I clash at times and push each other's buttons, I can always count on hockey to hearten our relationship. It bring out the best in both of us and truly reveals how lucky I am to have someone who cares about me and enjoys spending time with me and for that I am extremely