A hard hitting look at the world of college hockey; its players; its fans; its groupies.
Fiction, but depicts the real world as described by one of its participants.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
I see God when it rains.
I see God when it snows.
I see God when the lakes freeze.
And when the ponds turn to ice
SO, when I skate I am doing what God wants.
Someone once asked me "Why do you play hockey the way do?"
I took a deep breath, while looking into the eyes of this curious individual.
She asked again, "Why so hard, and so physical?"
"Do you mean why do I want to kill everyone?"
The game is fast and it is played on a relatively small-enclosed area. There really is nowhere to hide. I look at each game as a therapeutic session. It is my therapy from this fucked up world we live in. "Why do I party as hard as I play? They seem to hand and hand."
I started playing hockey when I was five years old, and booze was not that far behind. The first time I got drunk was fifth grade.
Growing up in Watertown was a challenge in itself.
"Do you think you have a problem with alcohol, drugs and sex?"
It prevented me from doing the right things from time to time, but I feel an addiction can be controlled.
You always have to control it. It has fucked up too many good people.
As for sex Who doesn't enjoy it?
To me, Hockey and sex are the same game but with different rules:
"Play hard or don't play at all."
Michael Tortorella was the captain of his college Division III team. Born, and raised just outside of Boston, Mass. Currently living in Phoenix, Arizona.
Rink Rats is his first book. He is working on his second.
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
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