I'm not a religious person, but last night I prayed.
I got down on my hands and knees and I broke down crying and prayed.
If my friends saw me, the supposedly tough Bryan Hurst, down there on the carpet praying I don't know what they would have said.
But I woke up at 3 am in a cold sweat. I was thinking, "What am I going to do after tomorrow. This is all I have ever known."
So I got down and prayed that tomorrow it won't come to an end.
Dad says there's more to life than hockey. I know he's right, but it's all I know.
Tomorrow's the NHL entry draft and this is my last chance to get drafted. But nobody drafts 19-year old players. Who is going to draft a centre who scored 20 goals and 65 assists for the worst team in the Ontario Hockey League, the Sudbury Wolves, as an over-age player?
No one that's who.
I'm never going to be a doctor or a lawyer or any profession like that. I've never been a good student. I barely passed high school.
Getting up at 5 am in the morning to be at the rink for 6 am practise, eight-hour bus trips across Ontario and locker rooms so dirty you wouldn't allow your pet in them -- that's all I've ever known.
And I love it.
But is it over?
I can't go back to junior. My eligibility is up. Either I get drafted and hope to make it with an American Hockey League team or I'm toast.
I heard Canadian Tire is hiring maybe I can get a job there. I think it pays $12.50 an hour. That's not bad for a 19-year old.
A scout told me there's always a chance I could get taken in a late round based on what I did two seasons ago. All I need is a chance. My knee felt a lot better last season. It felt perfect.
I hate thinking about my stupid right knee. I keep thinking, "What if I had gotten hit, what if I hadn't twisted the wrong way? What if I hadn't blown my ACL?"
That hit cost me nearly 11 months of playing hockey. I was off to a great start: 13 goals and 30 assists in 29 games. I was going to get drafted in the third or fourth round no doubt about it.
Everyone wants to draft an 18-year old playmaker with that kind of scoring ability. But no one wants a broken 18-year old with a bad knee. No one drafted me in July 2007.
Last year was difficult after all the rehabilitation. You can't expect to miss that much time on the ice and put up great numbers. I mean 85 points isn't terrible. But when you're playing against teenagers 16-to-18 years old you need to score 100 points. You need to dominate and I didn't dominate.
Is my hockey dream over before it barely had a chance to begin?
I'm not even going to watch the draft. They don't telecast the last few rounds anyway. Maybe I'll take a peak at the draft web site.
Until then, I might just pray a little bit more.
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I got down on my hands and knees and I broke down crying and prayed.
If my friends saw me, the supposedly tough Bryan Hurst, down there on the carpet praying I don't know what they would have said.
But I woke up at 3 am in a cold sweat. I was thinking, "What am I going to do after tomorrow. This is all I have ever known."
So I got down and prayed that tomorrow it won't come to an end.
Dad says there's more to life than hockey. I know he's right, but it's all I know.
Tomorrow's the NHL entry draft and this is my last chance to get drafted. But nobody drafts 19-year old players. Who is going to draft a centre who scored 20 goals and 65 assists for the worst team in the Ontario Hockey League, the Sudbury Wolves, as an over-age player?
No one that's who.
I'm never going to be a doctor or a lawyer or any profession like that. I've never been a good student. I barely passed high school.
Getting up at 5 am in the morning to be at the rink for 6 am practise, eight-hour bus trips across Ontario and locker rooms so dirty you wouldn't allow your pet in them -- that's all I've ever known.
And I love it.
But is it over?
I can't go back to junior. My eligibility is up. Either I get drafted and hope to make it with an American Hockey League team or I'm toast.
I heard Canadian Tire is hiring maybe I can get a job there. I think it pays $12.50 an hour. That's not bad for a 19-year old.
A scout told me there's always a chance I could get taken in a late round based on what I did two seasons ago. All I need is a chance. My knee felt a lot better last season. It felt perfect.
I hate thinking about my stupid right knee. I keep thinking, "What if I had gotten hit, what if I hadn't twisted the wrong way? What if I hadn't blown my ACL?"
That hit cost me nearly 11 months of playing hockey. I was off to a great start: 13 goals and 30 assists in 29 games. I was going to get drafted in the third or fourth round no doubt about it.
Everyone wants to draft an 18-year old playmaker with that kind of scoring ability. But no one wants a broken 18-year old with a bad knee. No one drafted me in July 2007.
Last year was difficult after all the rehabilitation. You can't expect to miss that much time on the ice and put up great numbers. I mean 85 points isn't terrible. But when you're playing against teenagers 16-to-18 years old you need to score 100 points. You need to dominate and I didn't dominate.
Is my hockey dream over before it barely had a chance to begin?
I'm not even going to watch the draft. They don't telecast the last few rounds anyway. Maybe I'll take a peak at the draft web site.
Until then, I might just pray a little bit more.
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