But he will never know. How could he? I don’t expect him to. He knows he is loved in the city of Chicago and he knows he has lots of fans that appreciate him on the Hawks. But he will never know how much he means to me. I just disappear behind the rest of the fans, melting into the sea of red in the Madhouse. He doesn’t see my tears as I sit behind my TV screen, wrapped in a blanket for those late night games in the winter. He doesn’t hear the anger in my voice when he misses a clear opportunity. I can’t ask that of him. I won’t ask that of him. All I can ask from my Hero, my role model, my favorite NHL player, is that he continues to progress and becomes the player of the ages. That he guides his team to yet another championship and continues to spoil the city in which he spends a great deal of time. Because although he will never know just how much he means to me, that doesn’t mean I could ever and would ever stop supporting him. I will never stop cheering for him and wearing his jersey. And when I’m older and have kids of my own, I will be glad to tell them the story of my Chicago Blackhawks. A Dynasty that I was so fortunate to grow up in and enjoy. I will tell them the story of my dark days when all I wanted to do was give up, but most importantly, I will tell them the story about a little guy who saved my life. A 5'10 Buffalo native who made a name for himself in my hometown, and across the country. I will tell them the story about Patrick Kane.
jacobvanloon
germansingergirl
kianamaiart
snowghoul
kaledo-art
gummygunk
titsay
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
