In 1993, not too long before he turned ten years old, Brandon Phoenix Murray refused to go to hockey practice. He didn’t like the outfit.
“Well, son,” Jimmy said, “you won’t be safe if you don’t wear the gear.”
Brandon’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s too stiff.”
“You like playing hockey?”
Brandon nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t like hockey,” he whispered.
“No?”
Brandon shook his head.
“Your mom really wants you to play hockey.”
“I’m not very good,” he whispered.
“Well, that’s not the only point of playing on a team.”
“Yes it is.”
Jimmy nodded. “Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll figure out something to tell your mom. But you’re going to have to go to bed before she gets home.”
“Okay!”
Jimmy waved at his grandson. “Go on up to your room. I need some time to think.” Brandon skipped
