Sean Avery - Ice Capades: A Memoir of Fast Living and Tough Hockey

I loved playing hockey. More than anything, really, from the age of five, when I first saw Hockey Night in Canada on TV. I knew at that moment that I wanted to wear an NHL jersey and have thousands of fans cheer for me. But if youre here for stories of me growing up under starry winter skies playing hockey on frozen ponds with a hot chocolate chaser, youre in the wrong place.

I was an NHL player for thirteen seasons, and I played to win. I wanted to be great. I mean, why do anything if you dont want to be great? But I didnt lie awake at night tossing and turning, hoping that one day Id be in the Hall of Fame. I just wanted to get everything I could out of the game. Sure, I was playing for the money, just like everyone else. But I was also playing for the opportunities. A lot of doors open for millionaire pro athletes, though most guys never look to see whats behind them. Dont get me wrong, I also played for fun. No one can say that a Gordie Howe Hat Trick (goal, assist, fight) doesnt put you in a great mood. One of the few improvements I can think of is the Sean Avery Hat Trick: playing a great game, going to a club afterward and getting wasted, then taking a supermodel home for a nightcap that lasts till sunrise.

That doesnt sound so terrible, does it?

People have offered up some pretty strong opinions about me over the years. Its hard for me to say whether theyre fair or notand no one is going to care about my self-justifications anyway. Im certainly not going to claim to be perfect. Im not even going to claim to be a good guy. Its not my business to tell anyone what to think of me. I will say this, though. The guy you may have seen on the ice? The hate-filled wrecking ball? Thats not exactly who I am. Its probably ridiculous to think we can know anyone from the way they play a game on TV. And in my case I played to the camera, and the crowd, and the press box. I made sure everyone was watching. That wasnt me being myself. That was me being who everyone thought I was.

I loved having the bulls eye on my back. Anyone who thought they were hurting my feelings by talking about me had me all wrong. So did every guy who got red in the face and tried to take my head off. If someone was writing about me or taking runs at me I was winning. I was making my team better, yes (that was my job), but I was also making myself richer and more famous. Name me a more famous third-liner in NHL history.

Not that it was all an act. Scoring a goal in Madison Square Garden is a feeling I think anyone would enjoy. I have to say, though, I enjoyed kicking the shit out of Mike Richards at center ice at Madison Square Garden even more. That may sound awful, but trust me, it was fun. I also did quite a lot of other things, and if I had the chance to do them all again, Id take it.

And yes, I miss the game since I walked away from it. I miss the roar of the crowd. I miss the sheer speed of life. There are some days when I feel like nothing will ever be that good again, but those days are fewer and farther between now. So dont expect me to get nostalgic about how I miss hanging out with the guys in the dressing room. I met some great guys over the years, but I also wasted a lot of time on planes and buses with some truly boring people, and even more time playing by other peoples rules. I dont miss that at all.

Im not 100 percent sure what motivated meand you need plenty of motivation to be one of the fittest guys in one of the toughest leagues in the world. I do know one thing, though. If you tell me I cant do something, I can pretty much guarantee Ill do it. So thanks, by the way, to all the people who told me Id never make it. Without you, its entirely possible I might never have put in the hours of work it took to play in the NHL.

Maybe you thought I didnt play the game the right way. But try to imagine having 20,000 people chanting your name after youve scored a goal, won a fight, or taken down the best guy on the other team, and then tell me youd act any differently. On the other hand, Id be almost as happy having 20,000 people absolutely hating me (hello, Philadelphia). Id much rather be hated than ignored.

Sometimes getting a rise out of the crowd was a way to entertain myself. The NHL season is long, and there are some nights when its hard to skate like nothing else matters. Because other things start to matter, and you cant win all eighty-two games. So sometimes I went out and turned the world upside down just to get through the game. Other guys took drugs.

Once upon a time the great Steve Yzerman told me that I should think about shutting up and just playing hockey. He said I had the talent, and that was good enough, and who wouldnt be flattered by having a Hall of Famer like Stevie Y tell you that?

I didnt take Steves advice because talent wasnt enough for me. I needed the adrenaline that constant conflictand sometimes chaosgave me. I went on a thirteen-season tear by playing the game by my own rules and learning more and more about who I was. Along the way I met so many interesting people and forged so many life-changing relationships that I think I might have had more fun than any guy who ever played in the NHL.