It all started on the street.

When I moved to Pennsylvania, I was introduced to Hockey by a close friend. It wasn't a big organized affair, or even all that elaborate. We didn't have much in the way of equipment. We had a few sticks, a smattering of other equipment, a net, and a few of us even had skates we used on occasion. What we did have a lot of was free time, and empty parking spaces.

We would play every morning before school, and every afternoon directly after it. On days we were off, we would play. On days we went home early from the snow and ice, we would play. Sleet, we would play. Dark, we would play. I can't remember much else we ever did besides hockey. If we didn't get to play out on the street, we would go in and break out the Sega Genesis and play NHL, or Mutant League Hockey.

Being in PA, Philly end, we were all Flyers fans. Back in the days of Lindros, Hextall and Desjardins. We never really sat down to watch much in the way of games, but we knew a few of the players and watched SportsCenter as we got ready for school to see the awesome goals from the nights previous.

The entire nieghborhood would come out once we broke out the net. Pj would play goal much of the time, I would slapshot the hell out of him and everyone else just scrummed about in ad hock teams. Throwing sticks after a bad shot was normal. Slight altercations if someone played the ball to hard were uncommon but arose from time to time. With all that, it was the most fun I'd ever had playing any sport.

Buying my crappy street stick a few weeks back all of these memories began pouring back to me. And now every time I watch a game on TV, go skating, or go out to Verizon Center, I'm reminded of how happy this game has always made me, and how glad I am to have it back in my life.