Alias

But if you’ve stayed with this story since the beginning, you know that the really good times don’t always last...

Unfortunately for my family, I was a stellar ice hockey player, but I wasn’t that good of an actor. Nobody can be a good actor and a good hockey player at the same time (except for maybe Chicago’s Brandon Bollig and my Denver teammate Lukas Attleberg.)

And it wasn’t so much my talent that ended the secret life, even though I blamed myself for what happened. We had been able to keep up the charade for at least four years. But...the secret only lasted until 2003, the end of my fourth year with the Junior Kings. I was getting ready to move into the midget program, along with Riley, Sam, Patrick, and a few of my other teammates. We were set to graduate in April.

However that never happened.

In February of 2003, my secret life ended. I was sleeping on a couch on the first floor of our new apartment house, when my world changed again. This time I woke up from the deep sleep and I was a witness. And both my parents knew I was a witness.

It was 4:45 am.

I was jerked awake by federal marshals bursting inside. They had guns drawn, like we were harboring a fugitive or a deadly terrorist. They took my father away at gunpoint. The man who had set in motion a new life for his family many miles from his crime, had made one critical mistake.

As I watched my father being taken from me, yet again, I wondered what he had done wrong. We had been able to keep the secret hidden for a good, long while. Again, no one really wanted to hurt me. They respected my skills. Maybe my father had gotten too comfortable?

Apparently he had slipped up, at a Blockbuster the previous week, he had used a credit card with an older, different alias.

Law enforcement tracked him down shortly thereafter. The ruse was over. The life of Craig Sharp was over. Craig Seguin was cuffed and taken from the house at gunpoint, while I watched, helplessly.

I remember seeing all of the weapons pointed at him, as I watched in horror. Sure it was a little extreme at the time, but apparently all the marshals knew was that a bond jumper, accused of attempted murder, was on the loose. They had to act quickly and rather dramatically. This was how the world looked at my father, but I knew he was not a dangerous man. At least not that dangerous. He had made a mistake and it had cost him.

I was fourteen years old by then and I remember that I cried for most of the remaining day and felt my heart break into two pieces.

That was the hardest time of my life. I felt broken. I was lower than low. I didn’t know if I wanted to keep playing hockey anymore. My father had been the one who wanted to make sure that my dreams came true. He was no longer there.

I stopped playing hockey for the remainder of 2003. I just didn’t feel like going to the rink or doing anything. My mother understood, but coaxed me back into carrying on with the sport. She said it would be what my father would want.

Reluctantly, I obliged.

I also lost Evangeline! She found out who my father really was and her parents didn't think it was safe for me to be dating their daughter anymore. We broke off the relationship and that added to my lingering depression.

In 2004, my father was extradited back to Quebec City to serve time at the local prison. He pled guilty to aggravated assault and bail jumping. I resumed my hockey once again. Once again, with my father in jail, happiness seemed to be elusive for me.

I am grateful, though, that my mother and I remained in El Segundo and she insisted that I continue with my hockey. To this day, the game has always been my saving grace.

My mother worked two jobs then, with good perks. She was a rink manager during the day at the Toyota Sports Center, taking me along with her, because I could get free ice time. At night, she worked as a flight correspondent (those people that check your bag and check you into the flight) at the local airport. Because of this job, she was able to get us good airfares for hockey tournament travels. She thought that if she picked up a job with the airport, it would be better for me and help out with the costs. I could get money off of the airfare to tournaments for hockey.

Hockey’s not cheap, and my mother was strapped for cash, so my teammate’s parents regularly helped out with my gear and tournament fees. Because of the effort, I was motivated to give ice hockey my all. Even if I had to carry on without the support of the man who had taught me my first moves on the ice.

At night, I would stay at the apartment and do homework. I was home schooled. It was a brilliant plan. I still have to wonder how my mother did all of this? It is astounding how strong she was!

My mother booked me for a flight for one of my tournaments not long after my dad’s arrest. She asked me one question: did I want to go as Nicholas Sharp or Nicholas Seguin? I told her that I wanted to stay Nicholas Sharp.

At the time it was a no brainer!

To me, I guess “Nicholas Seguin” would only carry weight and bad memories from the past. I also think that I felt more comfortable as “Nicholas Sharp.” I don’t really remember the real reason. It was a bunch of things that factored into my decision. It was easy for me to decide, but I can’t tell you why I chose to stay as Nicholas Sharp. I just did.