18 years ago, just bout 11am, my pager (lol) went off. It was from my (alleged) Policeman cousin, Tom. I knew someone had died. He NEVER paged me. At the time, I feared it was one of my brothers, home from college, doing a little too much partying. Quickly I found out it was my 52-year-old father. He died in jail, right in front of my high school buddy. I was fighting with him at the time. My father, Lenny, was an interesting man. While it was difficult to love him at the time, he was, is, and always will be my dad. Hockey? He did get his hung over, ass up at 5am, to drive me to practices. Games, I don’t think he made many, they were during drinking hours.
52 & dead. Nobody in my immediate family ever met him. But they know him. We’ve been
making a film (release date May 2012) for the past year and half. (see clip here) Honestly, it’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done for many, many reasons.
Why today’s blog? Well, if he didn’t impregnate my mother (which I have no scientific proof, but suspect it’s true) I would have never had chance to play hockey. To teach my kids about hockey. To write about hockey. To watch hockey. To argue about hockey. To live through the Wayne Gretzky era. To watch the 1980 US Olympic team on TV with rabbit ears. Travel the world, and enjoy playing and watching hockey. To watch idiots like Matthew Barnaby, do the same shit my dad did, in spite of having everything I think my dad wanted. Happy Hockey Days. Love your jackass hockey blogger, Lenny’s son.