Alias

My father was released on $75,000 bail, which he skipped out on in the December of 1997. He vanished, leaving Quebec. I had no idea where he had went and what he was up to, but I would learn.

While on the run in 1998, he wandered over much of Canada, including Peterborough and Regina. He even ventured south into Seattle, always carefully combing the areas and keeping an eye out for good junior hockey programs for me, his only son. There were tons of hockey programs around, but he didn’t feel drawn to any of them. I had a gift and, despite his faults, he firmly believed in me and that my 'gift' needed to be nurtured. He never gave up on me.

Did my father jump bail to save his own hide? No. I don't think he was a guy who was afraid of prison. I think he was a guy who was afraid of not being there for his kid. My father didn’t jump bail for himself. He did it for me. He put me first, trying to think of my future and my life before his. In his twisted way, my father loved me. He genuinely cared for me.

Unfortunately he cared too much. He didn't think or plan before he acted. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was a flaw in his character. Maybe it was something else. I'll never know.

According to him, I was the only thing he ever got right.

Both my parents were willing to do anything to help me live a happy and successful life. I was late Fall when my father finally settled in El Segundo, California, just outside of Los Angeles, where an elite hockey feeder system was in place. He was thinking of me I am sure.

My mother, the wife he’d beaten so cruelly, and I, the only child, drove across the country to be with him. She knew that his plan had always been for him to turn himself in when he thought the time was right. In his mind, the right time was when I turned 15 (or 16.)

It wasn’t just for a new life, but for a new identity as well.

Craig Seguin, insurance executive, became Craig Sharp, professional gambler. And I, Nicholas Seguin, young roller hockey star in Quebec City, became Nicholas Sharp, ice hockey prodigy and the new kid in town in El Segundo, California.
Now you know why I said that I “was” Nicholas Seguin.

I continued my hockey with the local Los Angeles Junior Kings organization, which had a Pee Wee League. I started to learn how to play ice hockey, dropping the roller game. I learned to play along with the name charade. My parents made it clear. They were serious, so I only had to be told once.

They told me, “You’re Nicholas Sharp to anybody who asks, no exceptions, eh.”

It didn’t matter to me.

I was once again busy playing hockey and putting my skills to the rink, while my father spent most of the time away, gambling in the casino at Hollywood Park. I had no hardship or crisis during my family’s undercover days. As I said, I went along with it, peacefully.