The River Rats

I love finding things on my computer that I don't remember writing. A few days ago I was telling Dorothy and Tali the story of my near demise... and look what I just found!

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February 20, 2009

Three nights ago a charter bus carrying the Albany River Rats turned over on the Massachusetts Pike. Three of the rowdy hockey players sustained serious injuries, but all made it off with their lives in tow.

When I was nine, a hockey puck shot by a River Rat came within inches of taking my life. I haven’t been to a hockey game since.

There is an inexplicable beauty in narrowly avoiding a life threatening accident. A victorious sensation. A rush of adrenaline. The excitement that comes with cheating death. And then there is sadness. While the excitement is fleeting, the sadness is forever.

That inevitable question seeps into thoughts during quiet moments, self reflections, at the sight of random memorabilia, after a painfully familiar sound. “What if?” What if. What if…that stranger in the seat in front of me had not shot his hand up into the air, at the last moment? What if.

Would it be nothing? Or perhaps, everything.

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Also, I just wrote a love letter to my garbage can. I miss being 14.

ALSO. This is my twelfth post. Show some love for 12!

ALSO ALSO. Update: Nelson was NOT behind the fridge, nor was he behind the stove, nor the dishwasher. Rasto, our super, thinks he's under our floor boards. Looks like the stench of good ol' Nel will be with us for quite a bit longer.