Maybe I was 12 years old, standing on a small sheet of ice, not much bigger than a couple of puddles strung together. I had boots on my feet because I didn't own skates, but many days I skated like the wind. Nearby was a completely home-made hockey net. It wasn't the right size, or even symmetrical. To me though, it was perfect, and the crease was the place where you entered the Hall of Fame. I Continue Reading...