God bless Joe Nieuwendyk's heart. And while we're at it, his knees too!

Last Monday, I know I finally, truly became a hockey player. Though there are those about that may only call what I do "fake hockey," I can only say that the pain stabbing through my knee was all too real. While working on what I considered a plain-vanilla pad save exercise, I lost my balance. I can't remember exactly what went wrong, but while trying to get up, I heard a distinct POP! come from my knee. I laid back down, all the while Lucien, my coach was asking me if I was OK. Being the masochist that I am, I said I was fine. He told me to skate it off and we'd continue with our drills. So after once around the net, I took more shots, grimacing every time I had to kick out. My knee finally had enough and after trying to move to quick to get one more shot, my knee did it's best Roberto Duran imitation and told me "no mas!"

It made me crazy the last week. After being able to play the sport I love, I've now been relegated to only watching. But it's better that I sit and watch for a while that to totally screw myself and go back out onto the ice before I'm ready. If nothing else, I've really learned to appreciate what our heroes go through on a regular basis. No, I haven't had to step in front of an Al McInnnis slapper, but I've been hit with pucks moving fast enough to make me thankful for what little padding I could afford for my chest (and my head!). And it didn't take a Brian Marchment hit to make me realize how painful a knee injury is. Maybe it's not real to some, but it's real enough for me.