Kelly Hrudey - Calling the Shots

IVE ALWAYS LOVED THE GAME of hockey, from when I was young. I spent hours and hours in our basement with my older brother, Ken, playing ball hockey. And I was glued to the television watching Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday nights. I had trading cards back thenall the Toronto Maple Leafs and all the Montreal Canadiens. I put those players on a pedestal. They were my idols. Guys like Jean Bliveau.

When I played for the Islanders, and then the Kings, and then the Sharks, Id see him up in the stands at the Montreal Forum. I remember thinking, Wow, wouldnt it be something to become a man like Jean Bliveau? He was a great presence. So elegant-looking in his beautiful tailored suits with that head of perfectly combed thick white hair. People throw around the words hockey royalty all the time, but he really was the king, and here he was, watching me play. I mean, how cool is that?

And Bobby Orr. He became an agent once he was done playing, and I had just gotten into broadcasting when I saw him standing at the Zamboni entrance in Florida. The Panthers were on the ice for a morning skate and he was all by himself. It took a lot of courage for me to go up and introduce myself. Much to my surprise, he knew my name! It was like, Oh my God, Bobby Orr knows who I am. A thrilling moment. We had a really nice chat, but I cant recall exactly what we talked about because I was so in awe. He reminded me of some of the greats by how humble he was.

Today, I am part of a brotherhood that started with guys like Orr and Bliveau and those before his time, like Georges Vzina. These are the guys who laid the foundation.

I never expected to play in the National Hockey League. Ever. And yet I had the privilege of playing in New York under Al Arbour, one of the greatest coaches in the league, and in Los Angeles with Wayne Gretzky, the greatest player ever to play the game. I played with some of the smartest, funniest most talented teammates at a time when I think hockey was at its most exciting.

I always read the game-day press notes. Id look at how many years a player had under his belt, and Id say, How can a guy play twelve years or more in this league? And then one time, I was in the dressing room getting ready for a game in L.A.Id been in the league around eight yearsand I recall going, You know what? I think Im gonna be one of those guys. One day the press notes are going to list my name, my age and how many years Ive played in the NHL, and its going be north of ten years. Well, it turned out to be a fifteen-year ride.

Fifteen years of hard work, dedication, will and passion. Fifteen years full of love, support and loyalty. Fifteen years of ups, downs and rebounds. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows. That wave of emotion after a game is something most people never get to experienceanger, jubilation, frustration, satisfaction. But there was always one constantpride. Every time I pulled on my jersey, I was proud to be a player in the NHL. I still am.