Andy Bids Farewell

I never thought that this moment in time would come. I guess I secretly hoped that somehow a rift in time would occur and I could continue playing hockey forever. Unfortunately for me, nothing gold can stay. I grew up a Cardinal. I can remember going to SMC hockey games when I couldn’t have been older than five with my babysitter Terri. My favorite memories of my childhood somehow centered around Cardinal hockey games. I idolized the hockey players I watched every Friday and Saturday night; Frank Silk, Nate and Tony DeMars, Chris Lamb, Fred Hennen, Frank Savino, Brad Nowak, Charlie Graves – I could go on forever. I wanted, more than anything in the world, to grow up and be a Cardinal. Getting here wasn’t easy for me. I decided to not play junior hockey – as most collegiate players now do – and made the transition right from high school. Playing hockey in Winona was a trying experience, the wins were few and far between and the emotional toll it took on me was tough. I got through OK, but it wasn’t by myself. I had help from so many people to get to where I am now and I think that these people should be thanked and recognized. My parents are my heroes (Mom, if you sing that stupid song so help me … ). Without their continual love and support, I would have never gotten as far in hockey as I have. But, hockey is only a game. My parents taught me how to be a good person, how to be a leader, a brother, and a friend. I am forever grateful for all of the sacrifices they have made for me. Dad, you are my best friend. I wanted to play goalie only because I knew you did (why do you think I chose the number 1?). I can remember tagging along with you to late-night goalie clinics at SMC and always hoping that you would surprise me with a pair of pads to wear. While you never did, you gave me so much more. You taught me. I am the player I am today because you taught me to be that way. You always told me what a great poke check you had, I tried my best to emulate it, but I don’t think I was ever as quick as yours. This last year was tough, not because it was my last year, or that my playing time was limited, but it was because you weren’t on the ice with me. For 14 years you were there with me. I still have no idea how you could stand on the bench and watch me let by all those goals in high school. Even though you weren’t there this year, you were. Thanks for everything, Dad, you didn’t just teach me to tend goal, you taught me how to be a man. Mom, how do I thank you for all that you have given me? Driving me to practice when Dad was working in La Crosse when I was a Squirt; your words of encouragement even though Cottage Grove just scored on me from the red line (yes, I do remember after all); reminding me that a certain defenseman in high school turned the puck over in front of the net just before the goal was scored. You have given me so much. I’m sorry about the grey hairs I am responsible for, now you don’t have to worry about me playing the puck behind the net or diving for a loose puck. You are my fellow Avalanche fan (2001 playoffs – “I believe”), the second biggest Patrick Roy fan in the state, and my favorite person to watch a hockey game with. Thank you for introducing me to the wonders of the natural world. I am so glad for all of the trips we have taken – I have seen and done more than any person my age has – Swingley in ’07! I love you guys both! I always tell people that my favorite hockey player is Patrick Roy. I mean, he is the greatest goaltender to play in the NHL, holder of countless records, and my professional idol. Well, I lie. Patrick Roy is not my favorite hockey player. My favorite hockey player is my brother, Joey. Joey, you have the most natural talent I have ever seen. You see the ice and have an uncanny “hockey sense.” To be honest with you, I learned more about hockey by watching and playing with you than I ever could have done myself. Above all, you are a competitor. I wish that sometimes you would let me win – i.e. poker, video games, disc golf, you get the idea. Never let that killer instinct die. You are going to make an incredible college hockey player and I can’t wait to come and cheer you on. Thank you for that pond hockey game you played with me this year – it helped me to remember what hockey was all about, having fun with the people you love. You will always be that little kid running around with me, wearing your Buffalo Sabres jersey, and waiting for Mom to turn off the lights, flash her spotlight in the dark, and announce our starting lineup for our floor hockey game in the living room just like they did at Saint Mary’s games. Once I got to Saint Mary’s, I realized two things very quickly – that the hockey players were very good, and that I was very broke. My uncle Bob helped me with the latter. Bob, your weekly checks were incredibly helpful, but more helpful, I think, were the phone conversations we had about hockey, my mile time (never as fast as you, I know), and how the RoughRiders were doing. Thank you for everything, I know you would have been to every game I played in if you lived closer, but your support is just as important to me. Go Hawkeyes! As for the hockey situation, I received help from many people. Coach Haupert, you helped me adjust to the change of pace and made me feel comfortable. The insights you provided me on the mental aspects of the game helped me through all four years. I’ll never forget your pre-game speech at Saint John’s (The Americans coming over to WWII Germany in U-boats!) Coach Mannor, even though you were my coach for a short period of time, the guidance you provided me with during summer hockey camps and my first few years on campus made me feel comfortable (Sakic is the real #19!). To the current Cardinal coaching staff, thank you for allowing me to play this great sport and to live out my dream. To my fellow seniors – we’ve been through it all. Fleish, we started at hockey camp way back when on the Navy team, met back up on the JV team, and we both ended on varsity, pretty wild ride, huh? Thanks for your friendship, kicking my butt in kangaroo, and for the great musical additions to my library. Berra, man, we’ve had a tough ride. You have a tremendous work ethic and a true dedication to the team. Thanks for a great four years ,Yogi — I’m gonna miss competing with you every day in practice. Cullum, you were the perfect stall-mate. Aside from the random facial petting, I’d say we had some great times (provided my stuff wasn’t across your invisible line). Thanks for not hitting me in the head at all this year! Donaldson, you compete for the love of the game and I admire that. I had a blast playing with you for four years and still am afraid to sit down with you at the poker table. This is turning into quite the novel isn’t it? But there are so many memories and friends that must be mentioned. To the boys of NV 226, Grant (freshman year, never before met, “will you be my roomie next year?”), Hieu (someday you’ll be out of debt), Buj (where’s my American Beauty?), you guys are the best. The memories we’ve created, the things we’ve destroyed, and the games we’ve invented will carry on forever. My friends made my time at SMU the best time of my life – Wifflin’ 4 Wishes, intramurals, bloodsport, Tour de SMU – thank you all for being my friends. You will all go down in infamy, Teddy included, in that notorious bouncy ball incident at the varsity game sophomore year! I love you all and can’t wait to spend these last few months together. Last, and certainly not least, my girlfriend, Missy. You are the most supporting, loving, and nicest person I ever ever met. I don’t think I will ever understand how you sit through my mindless rants about hockey. I am lucky to have you in my life and I will never forget all that you have given to me in our time at SMU – I probably do owe you a pony, huh? The roller coaster that is known as hockey season is almost over and that means you can stop walking on pins and needles! Thank you so much Missy, I love you. 25:50. There is a lot a person can do in 25 minutes and 50 seconds – that’s four years worth of sub-six minute miles, enough time for a wiffleball game, a jog with your dad and brother in the Fall Frolic, the list continues … 25:50 is, as I write this, all the ice-time I have seen on varsity in my four-years here. But that was enough time for a little kid from Winona to fulfill a life-long dream. While my performances weren’t as great as I had imagined, you can put my name on the same page as all of the former Cardinal goaltenders, you can call me a collegiate athlete, and you can call it a successful career. I am quite proud to be a Cardinal hockey player! So this is it, the end of the road. There were so many memories, so many good times, and so many great people. I think it is only fitting, being a true hometown Cardinal, to end as one of my favorite Cardinals of all time, and fellow Winonan, Ryan Stinson did – “It’s a Great Day to be a Cardinal, I’m out.”