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Duncan Spielberger

I felt blind sitting handcuffed to the cold metal chair in the small colorless room with the one and only light aimed straight through to my brain. Its beams distorted my thoughts and played with my emotions. I couldn’t separate the truth from the lie I was about to tell. I felt nervous yet couldn’t sweat, scared yet couldn’t shake, and weak yet spoke without a tremble in my voice. Going into the whole operation, it had been agreed upon by all the guys that if anyone were to be caught, they were not to rat anyone else out. We had run through our false story a thousand times like a football team does with their two-minute drill. However, this time I had an audience, and I needed to sell my story or I would end up back in jail. The investigator was growing tired of hearing me tell the same bullshit story everyone delivers when they get caught committing a robbery. I was sticking with my story regardless of the number of threats he sent my way and this caused him to get violent. He threw his right fist and…

It connected with the wooden coffee table. Veins ran up my father’s muscular forearm and neck and then popped out at his temples. I had never seen such big veins. How much blood does it take to fill veins that size? Despite the spit building up on his lips, I could only focus on his giant veins. Maybe if I traced them with my eyes long enough I could cause a clot and the lack of blood flow would take my dad’s mind off of the statement I had just made. My plan failed.

My dad’s words cracked down like a whip and sent a chill up my spine. “You will regret this I assure you.”

What is more important, my love for the game or the happiness it brings me?

Well seems pretty simple. You should get out equal to or more than you put in. Do I still love the game? Yes. Is it still making me happy? No. Then why is this decision so difficult? …

I can’t rat the others out. That would be taking the easy way out. But I don’t want to suffer the consequences alone. I had done time before, and any convict will tell you, jail is not something you want to do twice. Perhaps it was time to get out of the business altogether. Wipe my hands clean and move on…

“I think you know that this decision of yours disappoints me. After all the time you have spent and all the work you have put in, you are ready to just pack up and leave?” My dad asked this question purely because of his own wonder, but I couldn’t help but feel he was trying to guilt trip me.

What is more important to a father, his son’s success in sports or his happiness? Write a short paragraph defending your answer:

In this town the only way to get by is to be connected.

“Its all political dad. It’s not about your skill necessarily, it’s about who you know.”

“Your mother and I said we would be friendly with the coach, but YOU didn’t want that. We could have done a little butt kissing.” It was difficult for me to view my dad as the strong workingman that I usually saw him as. He was willing to buy into this social hierarchy with such ease and it angered me.

Why would I want to play for a team knowing that the only reason I was there was because my parents took the coach out for dinner and to the bar after games? Can’t my dad understand that I just wanted a fair chance? I would never want him or my mom to get me on the team nor do I want to be passed over so that the coach’s son and friends can be on the same team. I figured high school hockey would be different from the Winnetka township program. I guess connections are always important…

Alone in the interrogation room, with only my thoughts to keep me company, I realized that in this world it is up to you to find happiness, it will not be handed to you. I thought getting fast, easy cash by robbing banks with the rest of the guys would make me rich and happy, but I was dead wrong. After looking deeper within myself, it hit me that I was involved with the group purely to be apart of something. It wasn’t about the money, or the thrill of cracking a safe and escaping without tripping the alarm. It was about me wanting to feel as if I belonged to group working towards a goal. Sitting here alone, with jail time imminent, I realized that I wasn’t going anywhere in the world being with this group. I needed to get out…

“Face it dad, I am not going anywhere with hockey. I have had time to think about it, and I am done! No matter how hard I have worked, I have floated through the program without success for too long! I yelled at my dad with enough force to throw him back in his chair.

I probably shouldn’t have yelled that loud…Big Tom does not like when you raise your voice at him.

They let me walk with only probation. I had given them the address to where the money could be found along with the names of everyone involved. I felt uneasy, but I knew that I was making the right decision. My days of intense planning and nights spent dressed in all black with ski masks and always dividing the take into six equal shares were over. I was a free man, yet I still felt the weight of the past slowing me down. After some time, I would come to recognize the benefits of my decision of breaking away from whom I once was, but until then, I remained ambivalent.

“Fine Duncan it’s your life to live, so you get to decide how you want to live it. My only concern is that you are giving up the one sport you truly love. Won’t you be sad that it will be out of your life forever?” He sounded oddly calm despite me yelling. I could sense his feeling of sympathy in his words, and I knew he cared about my happiness. It was just hard for him after watching me skate for 14 years, to see me finally hang up the skates. I couldn’t respond to his question but it dug deep into me and remained there for weeks. Often I would recover it, think it over for a while, regret my decision to quit, then realize it was the correct move in my life, and bury it back down again. I couldn’t get that question out of me for the longest time.

It isn’t selfish to make a decision that others do not agree with when you feel that it is necessary, right? It was time for me to give up hockey and move on with my life. Eventually my dad will fully understand my reasoning and will respect my decision. I am happy now. Sure I miss.