Heart of Man

”No.”

Growing up in Italy, I had everything I could ever want. I had a family, an education, and monetary funds whenever I wished. You name it; I either had it, or could probably get it. Being the Governor’s daughter kind of helped with that, but hey? Who’s complaining?

All my mother and father asked of me was to make top marks, and make them proud. A Gold Medal would work, too.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

The summer I turned 8, my father enrolled me in the government’s youth hockey program, based out of Rome. I ended up on the Venice U10 team, after tryouts. I can’t say he wasn’t proud. I was the only girl to have made it. The other girl who showed up, ended up leaving early. She broke her arm. I didn’t mean to get her that hard. I was only 8. I didn’t know what I was doing. I wanted to be like the American Hero, Lemieux! He did it, so why can’t I?

“You heard me.”

I played on the same team for another year, before I ended up moving to the U12 team. There was another girl with me, but she didn’t like to play a lot. I guess she was just back-up, thinking back on it.

The second year of being on the team, I got an “A” put on my shoulder. I was the proudest 11-year-old out there. I remember our goal-tender teasing me, calling me fica. It was the joke for about a week, making fun of my letter. It was given to me for a reason, though. My mother was upset about the boy’s parents calling about the hospital bill, but she was proud nonetheless.

“That’s all that I ask,” she would say. “Make me proud.”

“Was it something I did? Please, tell me it was something I did wrong. Please..”

For the next three years, I graduated Primary school, and went onto Secondary School “Level 1”, as they put it. One of the best parts of having an awesome family? The schooling benefits. By the age of 8, I could speak Italian, which only improved with the modern adjustments through school, conversational French when I was 10(I didn’t really. The kid next to me did my work, and I did his Russian), and got rid of my broken English, by the time I was twelve. It was something my mother believed in.

She figured the whole world would someday have a use for it, and wanted me to be prepared. I don’t think she expected me to learn Russian. I came home with my schedule, and the look on my parents’ faces were enough to keep my laughing for days. I had learned the language for 3 years in Secondary School, and 3 years in Higher Secondary School. My last year, I was scheduled for Finnish, since I completed Russian(I got a 97.8 on my final exam for the six-year course. Take that, dad.). Too bad the teacher quit, and I never got to learn before Graduation.

I made it a goal of mine, to learn Finnish. It… really was a beautiful language.

”Mother of damn, it wasn’t you, alright? It’s me.”

When I was twelve, my Venice U12 team dispersed, and I was told to go try-out for the new league that was about half an hour’s drive away. I made the last spot on the Venice Premier U15 Competitive Team. For two years, I saw maybe a total of 40 minutes playing time? I think the coach kept me on as a joke.

The last year I was on the team, I had just turned 14, and completed my first illegal in-game check. I sort of broke the goal-tender’s hip bone, and was dismissed from the league. A new Millennia, a new start, right?

“Don’t lie to me! You were everything to me. Just tell me what I did.”

Upon entering my first year of Higher Secondary School, I tried out for the Florence Premier U16 Competitive Team, but my mother and I found out that I was banned from the entire League itself, not just the team. My dad was one pissed off Italian, but it never stopped him. Two weeks later, I found myself on a new team. One that didn’t seem to care that I broke a few hip bones in the past.

I remained on the Italia U18 team for four years, holding the position of Capitan my last two years. Three of those years, we brought home World Junior Ice Hockey Championships medals. Gold, Silver, and Silver. Every year, we made finals in the IIHF World U18 Championships, and pulled Gold twice, and Bronze once.

“I was nothing to you, and you know it. I am no fool, so please don’t play me like I am.”

I turned 19 in the summer of 2005, when I made a spot on the Italia U20 team, with my U18 coach. He gave me an “A” on my shoulder, which was offending many of my teammates, who didn’t take it well. I had three concussions within the course of 4 months. After we got Silver at the IIHF World U20 Championships, I resigned my position on the team. I played the final game with a concussion. Gotta hate the ego, right?

It didn’t take long, before my mother convinced me to try-out for the U25 team. Many of my friends were on the team, and even the coach liked the idea of having a girl on the team.

But that was the case in Italy. Not many girls even liked the sport. It’s not like we were Canada or anything.

Can’t say I didn’t like having that “A” again for two years.

Both years, we competed at the IIHF World Championships, and handed Russia their ass the first time, taking Gold. We were three men short the second time around, and only got 4th.

My mother cried when I brought home the MVP award at the age of 20.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run away? After all of this..”

After I retired from my beloved team, I received a phone call from my father, who was at work. The Finnish Prime Minister and President gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
I couldn’t either. Because the next thing I knew, I was on a place from Fiumicino Rome International Airport to Helsinki-Vantaa Airport, in Helsinki, Finland.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do.”