Although it might be a song lyric and also the title of many, this line to me, does not mean what it may mean to others. A cozy beach house on the coast of Mexico or a pool side bed on a cruise in Jamaica is what many people say. All things where they feel like nothing matters and that they have no worries. They are set for life and could care less what is happening somewhere else. Not me. The dream for me consists of a fast paced, hard hitting, sheet of ice where we put blades on our feet and sticks in our hands to go play hockey. My dream is playing Junior Hockey.

I lace up the skates and tape my shin guards. Same routine every single time to make sure nothing goes wrong. Each and every day could be the last in the sport. If I dog it, I will get cut. Many would not like the idea of the possibility of losing everything right then and there, but I find a rush in the accomplishment of staying. Working my hardest and playing every game excites me even more. If I drop the gloves to take on an opponent or set up a back door pass to gain the lead, I love it.

Early morning practices are always the best. There is nothing better then starting the day of right by putting on the skates and going on to a surprising cold sheet of ice. Fog everywhere and condensation on the glass, but as practice moves on, our bodies stir the fog right out of the building and appears the site of the greatest game in the world.

“Hurry up you wussies!” the coach yells as we skate blue line to blue line. “We play the bulldogs this weekend! And don’t think they won’t be ready!” We hit the ice and army crawl down the rink. Sweat dripping from our foreheads and blood gushing from the cuts on our knuckles. “Bleep this” some of the guys say but we all know the feeling after the accomplishment of finishing a drill. It is nothing short of living the dream.

We load the bus at 3 am, after a full night of playing video games and completing school work, doing anything to stay awake. Some of the boys sit in back to watch a movie while others sprawl across the floor of the bus to get some rest. As bad as 14 hours in a bus sounds, it flies by when spending it with the boys. We play cards, watch movies, and around Christmas time, pass out gifts. It is a time to remember.

From the sound of the goal horn blaring or the blood, shed all over the ice, it is living the dream to the fullest. Whether it is a morning practice at 5am or a late 9pm game against the last place team in the league, hockey is something that I love and cherish. It runs in my blood and is a game I could never forget.