It’s officially hockey season.

The NHL is back in full swing, and I’m ready to be disappointed by the Toronto Maple Leafs.

My schedule has me rarely seeing games, though my love for the sport remains.

The last few years of watching hockey have been particularly odd, however – and I want to explore why.

In the last two years, athletes from my birth year were drafted into the NHL. This cemented the end of a little boy’s dream. I never played hockey seriously, but whenever I thought about my “dream job” as a kid – I had one answer: I want to play in the NHL.

It was almost always a toy answer.

Even at the age of 10 or 11, I had grasped the unlikelihood of this dream.

I was joking, but it was never concretely out of the realm of possibility.

Now, it is.

Last night, the spotlight was on the top prospect from 2002, making his debut in the NHL. In a parallel (and very far) universe that could’ve been me.

It’s interesting, a little bit sad, but mainly eye-opening.

The athletes drafted each year are embodiments of devoting yourself to a purpose. Examples of pursuing craft and compounding skill over the long term.

While playing in the NHL is not possible, I like to think I can embody the same mindset as those at the top-level of their craft.

I strive to be the best I can be, in my own league. The league of my life.