My Hockey Stick My hockey stick I got when I was 11 because me and my dad wanted me to play. Hockey was always my favorite sport and playing it was my lifelong dream. I started playing for 5 days a week during the summer, and when I played more and more my love grew. I made my first team within the year, which blew my mind, I was excited to play with new people, even though it was a short season, I met someone who I still talk to today. After the season ended I started practicing again, getting ready for the next tryout. I worked hard, trying to make the best team possible, the first tryout didn’t go well, though. I got a concussion early on, and had to go to the ER. I didn’t make that team, but I got accepted by a slightly worse team. It wasn’t the team I wanted, but there weren’t any better teams. That season was my best so far, I met many new people, and I developed my skill a ton. Not every memory was good though, me and my family got in to many fights, and I was doing poorly in school, and my mom was trying to get me out of hockey. My stick has been with me, through good and bad since I got it, and it’s now part of who I am.