We're taking bets that the little things can bring us back...

I am posting part of an article by John Buccigross of ESPN.com. John writes about hockey and lives in my hometown South Windsor, CT. I needed some cheering up on this depressing Tuesday and read about the story of his son Jackson. It brought a tear of happiness to my eye and I thought that everyone I know should read this story. This may be stealing from ESPN, but I really don't care because it is stories like these that need to be told in the news and not the crap we hear. Plus it will make my brother happy that I read about hockey. :)

"State tournaments. From mites to squirts to peewees to bantams to midgets to high school and prep schools, boys and girls from around the U.S. will drive with queasy stomachs on highways, byways and back roads to games. The anticipation is too great for the stomach to hold. Boys and girls will enjoy that time-honored tradition of getting out of school early to play tournament hockey.

That's where I am going after I finish this, to pick up 6-year-old Jackson from Wapping Elementary school here in South Windsor, Conn. You'd like Jack. He's the kind of kid who wakes up in the morning with smiling blue eyes, and he continues smiling until his bocce-ball-sized head hits the pillow at 9 p.m. He is witty, funny, silly, smart, knows what number Joe Sakic is and what team Mike Modano plays on. He sings along to the Ben Folds Five and They Might Be Giants CDs. He's a great companion, the kind of person who doesn't sap energy, but is rather an alternative energy source.

Jack is a first-year mite, a young 6 year old playing with mostly 7- and 8-year-olds. At every practice, he skates every drill all-out. His effort is not born from intensity or even competitiveness. It's from joy. He's a joyful kid who plays hockey joyfully. Think Alexander Ovechkin, although much smaller and without the Russian accent. The foundation of nearly every success is a hard worker who loves the hard work.

Despite all of the love and effort, Jackson had played the first 34 games of his young hockey career without a goal. Tyranny, hell and goals are not easily conquered. Hockey is hard. That is its great lesson, and its great gift. Yes, waiting for something to happen, the struggle, the sacrifice, the doubt, is a gift. Jack wasn't tormented by not scoring. His joy for the game, for skating, stick handling, trumps everything. But it was on his mind. He knew. He sees the game. He notices the game of life and hockey. He gets it. The waiting is the hardest part.
As mite hockey practice began last fall, I told Jack that Cammi Granato was cut from Team USA. Jack has spent some time with Cammi and the two share a bond that sometimes happens inexplicably, despite having little time together. When it was time for choosing uniform numbers, Jackson Buccigross chose Cammi's No. 21.

As the unsure, skinny 6-year-old made his way around the rinks of Connecticut in October, November, December, January and then February, that first goal, with the little blue puck, never came. Yes, hockey is hard. For 6-year-olds, it can be overwhelming. Never forget that when you watch your kids. Hockey is a hard, demanding game. Which takes us to Feb. 21, the first week of the Olympics. Jack had seen a lot of Cammi on NBC's coverage of the women's Olympic hockey the previous few days. When Cammi would appear, Jack would occasionally say, "That coach was dumb for not having Cammi on the team." Yeah, Jack, I know. So, on Feb. 21, No. 21 packed the hockey bag he insists on carrying himself, the small caddy carrying Al Czervik's gigantic golf bag in "Caddyshack," and headed to West Springfield, Mass. The rink? Olympia Ice Skating Arena.

The opponent was Holy Name, a team that the South Windsor mites had lost to 2-0 three days earlier. It was also school vacation week and three of our forwards -- an entire line -- were away. We were down to two lines. Jack would see lots of ice time.

As if someone had flipped a switch, Jackson was a different player that day, flying all over the ice. He was even skating around, attempting to do multiple crossovers, just like he's seen the great skater, Jack Skille of Wisconsin, do on television Friday nights. One Jack noticing another.
It didn't take long. Following a turnover at the blue line, Jackson rushed toward the net on a mini-breakaway, and with his all-wood TPS stick, fired a wrist shot in the far corner to make it 1-0.

After almost five months of weekend games, Jackson had scored his first career travel goal in the 35th game of his rookie season. As he sprinted to the bench to receive the high fives from his teammates and dad, his skates didn't touch the ice. He floated. Blue eyes as big as red face off dots. He did it. This little 42-pound perpetual Christmas present had found the back of the net with the little blue puck. Why did it take so long? Heaven knows how to set a proper price upon its goods. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.

As it was a blessing for Ray Bourque to win his first Stanley Cup in his last NHL game, and a blessing for Mike Eruzione to win gold in his last hockey game, it was a blessing Jackson waited almost five months to feel the exhilaration of scoring his first goal. He had chosen uniform No. 21 to cheer up an Olympic gold medal winner embarrassed by grumpy old men. And five months later, his first career goal came on the 21st of the Olympic month in a rink called Olympia? Against a team called Holy Name? God only knows.

Yes, this great game has so many values we can choose to use in our everyday lives. Heart, courage, mental toughness and artistic expression are four. And the greatest virtue of all will be evident in rinks all over North America this month. When it is all said and done, success -- whether it's revolution, your first goal, a state championship, NCAA Championship or Stanley Cup -- requires patience and an understanding of what it takes. And what it takes is why hockey is the greatest teaching game of all. Always remember in times of battle: Nothing comes cheap."