A Journey Starts with Just One Step

[OBrian Young 300]

Where to start? They seem to always say…At the beginning…but where is that? I guess everyone really gets to decide their own beginning…so this is mine. 

OBrian Young…yea…that’s me. I was born and raised on the Isle of Man, about half way between Northern Ireland and England. When we want to “go somewhere” we can easily choose either Belfast, Dublin or Blackpool…they are all about the same distance away. 

Yea, I am big. I mean, really big! Why did I end up playing hockey? Well, I got too big to play football and I just wasn’t fast enough to play rugby. So besides darts, which I really like as well, hockey was it. I seemed like I was born on the ice. Teams loved to have me on their side and looked at me with dread when I was on the ice for the other team.

I was always asked my age when I played in youth leagues. Yea, it was my real age…I was just big for my age! Checking was always a lot of fun…all I had to do was bump people and they fell over. It was easy when they were lucky if they came up to my armpits. 

My parents always told me to follow my dream. To be honest, I didn’t know what it even was. I was going through my teen years trying to figure out what was going to come next. People would suggest things and I would say, sure! But in reality, none of it appealed to me. Then one day my hockey coach asked me if I had considered going pro as a hockey player. Well, to be honest, no. The thought really never crossed my mind. There are no professional hockey teams here. So, no one to really inspire me. Sure, I had seen the VHL on the telly, but they are in America and Canada and that is a long way away from the Isle of Man! 

He suggested I start by putting some videos of myself on Youtube. Okay, sure. I asked my brother to record some of the games and edit the videos, he loves to do that. I posted them and after a couple of months I felt like I was just wasting my time. Dad was wanting me to get on at the shipyard. But everyone knew they were winding things down and even if I started it would not be a career. The reality is there isn’t much in the way of career opportunities for a huge bloke here. So I was starting to look in England. I finally accepted that I was going to have to move away from home. I am not going to lie….it sounded exciting…but also scary as hell!

Anyway, out of the blue I got a call from a VHL scout. He asked me if I was interested in playing in their minor league. It wouldn’t be much money. But it would be a chance to showcase what I can do on the ice. He suggested that I think about it. He told me there were spots open for defenders to join teams right away. But it would require me to pick up and move…the sooner the better.

I spent the day walking around…looking at the waterfront, stopping by the chippie, even went by the local and had a pint. Was I ready to leave this? What happens if I don’t make it? Would people laugh at me? What if I didn’t go? Would I regret it later on? Getting older sucks, I don’t like having to make decisions like this.

Finally, I had made up my mind. I was going to go. But I told everyone except my family that I was going on a backpacking holiday in America. Then, if I failed, no one would ever know. But if I don’t even try…then I will know.

Next thing I realized I was on a plane to Toronto. The scout told me he would meet me there. Man, I hope this isn’t some kind of scam…what if it is true? What if I can become a good player…even a great one? Well…the only way to find out is to take that first step!

 

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