As I watched my childhood best friend Dylan Larkin, on the TV, I couldn’t help but envy him. That could be me, that should be me, I thought to myself as Dylan celebrated his goal against the Chicago Blackhawks. Ever since the accident two years ago that paralyzed me from the waist down, all I have wanted to do was play the sport I love again, hockey. I wanted to skate again, I wanted to score again, I wanted to be on a team again. Most hockey players my age are playing Juniors, College hockey, or are even playing the NHL. I knew I could have made it that far, if it weren’t for the car accident that changed my life forever.
I had just committed to Michigan , one of the top hockey schools in the country, when the accident conveniently happened one day later. Everything I had ever dreamed of, worked for, and hoped for was all down the drain, within a matter of seconds, when some guy hit me head on, on the night of just another Michigan snow storm.
A commercial popped up on my TV during intermission, for a spring sled hockey training camp in Minnesota and I knew I had to go. This was my only shot at playing the game again, unless somehow I miraculously gained feeling in my legs. There was this constant voice in the back of my head telling me
to let go; but I guess when something means so much to you, letting go is a lot easier said than done.  I immediately registered for the camp, and started packing for it even though it was still a week away.

**************************************************

My brother Connor, my biggest supporter drove me from Royal Oak, Michigan to Saint Paul, Minnesota. He helped me out of his tiny car and into my wheelchair and we made our way into the rink, where it would all happen.
“Are you Jack Thomas?”, the guy at check in asked me. “Last time I checked”, I slyly quoted my favorite movie, Miracle. The other guys around me smirked, understanding the reference I had just made.I made my way into locker room B, where I found a stall with a sled and two sticks just for me. I tugged one of my old and tattered hockey jerseys over my head and my brother helped me put on the rest of my equipment. But the thing that felt strange was not putting skates on. I had so much trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I would never skate on two feet again, but I knew I would atleast have to give sled hockey a shot. My brother assisted me onto the ice and into my sled. I glided over to center ice where the other guys and the coaches were. We all went around telling who we are where we are from, and our story. Once it got to me I took deep breath, nervous to tell my story in front of a bunch of strangers. I started with the words, “ I’m Jack Thomas, I’m 19 years old and I’m from Royal Oak, Michigan.” I told them all of it, the story of my accident and about how I had a whole career ahead of me until that fateful day.

For the first couple of days we went over the basics of sled hockey. Each morning I got out of bed earlier than the other guys,  went to the rink and just practiced. I fell, and fell, and fell. There were
some times that I felt like a fool out on the ice with the other guys; but it wasn’t until the third day when we started scrimmaging and one of the coaches told me that I have potential that I knew I could do it.

On the last day of the camp we played one last game of sled hockey, where our families would watch us play, and scouts would be there. I took the faceoff with a guy on the other team, who I remembered telling me that he was in the army and lost one of his legs. Guys like him really pushed me to want to be better.  I glided down the ice, open for a pass from the right winger, toe dragged the defender, and went top shelf on the goalie. My teammates gathered around me, cheering me on, and patting me on the back. At the end of the third period, the game was tied with 45 seconds left and my coach put me out on the ice for one final shift. I took the faceoff, made my way down the ice, received a great pass from one of my defenceman and tucked the puck in the net, scoring the game winning goal. My teammates hopped over the bench as fast as they could, congratulating me and awing over the fact that we had just won the game. I changed in the locker room after the game, and then was ready to leave when a scout came up to me. He told me that he was from the U.S. National Development Sled Hockey team, and that he wanted me to come out to one of their practices. “I noticed you worked harder than anyone out there” he told me, and a small grin appeared on my face. That was my chance, if I were to play with that team, my whole life, everything would get so much better. I thanked the man, and left the camp, knowing I had to play with that team. That voice in the back of my head telling me to let go was suddenly gone, and I knew taking the chance and not letting go was the right decision.