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In the great scheme of things it should have always been apparent that this was the case, you see Connor knew from the beginning that skills alone were never going to be enough to get him up to the podium after his name was announced, it was going to take dedication to a craft that had be honed to perfection by so many players before him.

 

The enormous for his age centremen with the lineage of greatness stepped onto the ice for the first time aged six and he was awful, he looked like a newborn giraffe on rollerblades the minute he took the ice for the first time. You see his father was always busy traveling. A two-time SHL Challenge Cup Champion with the Edmonton Blizzard makes for a fairly absentee father at times he was raised by his mother, Anna Tanner a world-renowned figure skater with the Irish Figure Skating Club. Maybe that was why the hockey skates never felt right on his feet, he needed to continue working at his footwork on the ice. He felt like an alien on the ice when he put those abominations on his feet, but his father begged him to continue working at, what kind of legacy would he have left behind if his own son could not skate.

 

It was time to take these matters out of his own hand. It was time to visit Madame O’Malley a woman known for her ability to see into the future, my father and I walked on to the front steps of her home that more resembled a shire than a home. “Come in my child, let me see what the future holds for you my dearest.” Connor tentatively walked through the front door not truly knowing what to expect but fully prepared for the worst, maybe he was never meant to follow in his fathers footsteps and play professional hockey later in life. It was completely and utterly repulsive to think of the disappointment his father would feel if he never managed to become anything. He walked closer to the woman’s table and she peered into her glass. “I see flames coloured like the sunset, flames of red and orange. In a place that is described by many names. The District? Columbia? The District of Columbia? I see Washington, I see capitals, but the Dragon feels most prominent.” “What does that mean papa?” young Tanner asked in awe of what had just happened. “I don’t know son, the Calgary Dragons never went by any name other than Calgary, and there was never a team in the District of Columbia. I guess you were never meant to play hockey.” Absolutely and utterly destroyed Connor walked back out the home side by side with his father and the old crone yelled out her door. “BOY! Victory! The words VICTORY are echoing throughout my mind! You are meant to play hockey! You truly are!” “But WHERE?” “In D.C. Connor, with the Dragons. I should have known you were always meant to follow a slightly different path than me.”

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https://vhlforum.com/topic/77861-the-road-not-taken/
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