I'm Worried I May Have Already Scored The Last Goal I'll Ever Score And I Need To Change That Immediately

Deep bro. Fucking deep. 

While watching the Stanley Cup last night it dawned on me I haven't played hockey in a few years now, and there's a real chance I've scored the last goal I'm ever going to score. And I didn't like that thought whatsoever. It was haunting me all night, partly in thanks to special gummies, but nevertheless, the question is the same- what if I never score a goal again in my life? What if I scored, went to the bench, highed some fives, and that was it for the ol' Barstool Nate stats on the back of my playing card? It's a harsh reality check. But then I got to thinking- wait a minute. Wait one god damn minute. Nobody decides that I've scored my last goal besides me. I can change that if I want to. And then Draisaitl scored and I went to bed.

But I woke up today feeling the same way, and no longer under the influence of THC. Sometimes I feel we all let life pass us by and we don't even realize it's happening. I've played some sort of organized hockey for the better part of my entire life. Mostly inline (roller) hockey, where I was actually kinda decent for a few years in my teenager days. I played in a league after college back in Arlington VA, but since moving to NYC 10 or so years ago the amount I've played has decreased to somewhere around zero. I played in a league in like…2016 in Hoboken, but that's about it. I've skated plenty- especially during Covid lockdowns when I'd put on my blades and skate for miles a day because there was nothing else to do. I have all my equipment just sitting here in my NYC apartment, going untouched, month after month. Now I'm kinda sad just typing that. 

I don't want to go the rest of my life without doing something I enjoy. That sounds so depressing. I don't think I even realized how much I miss it until last night and now it has multiplied this morning while typing this blog. Why should I not get to feel this feeling once again?

That was at the Chiclets Cup after scoring on RA, seen laying dead in the background.

I am not sure if they have elderly leagues for washed up folks like me in NYC, or maybe some pickup, but I need to find out. I may be 36 knocking on the door of 75, but who cares. Age is just a number and the fact I'm sore all day every day just from being alive is simply a minor symptom. I refuse to believe I will never score another goal again. Time to get back to it and light the lamp one more time.