So Long, Jack

I usually try to keep things nice and peppy on my blogsite- I want it to be a place where both of my loyal readers can go to maybe get a yuck or two. But this week we lost one of our Dawg Nation brothers, and I wanted to take a few minutes to tell you about him.

The guy in the picture is Jack Kelly, posing with his three daughters after winning the Edge Cup given to the EAHL league champions in 2009. This week Jack lost his battle with scleroderma, a rare disease that just completely wrecks the immune system. He found out that he had it right near the end of last year, and was gone in less than five months. He was just 53 years old.

Jack and I skated together for three or four seasons. After games, we would drink a beer in the parking lot with the rest of the team, and I always enjoyed the conversation with him. We were around the same age, and would always talk about how cool it was that we were still playing at a semicompetitive level, even though we were both hitting the half century mark. And we'd always talk about our kids. His were a little older than mine, and I'd seek advise about how to deal with a teenage daughter.

He didn't help me much there. Hell, does anyone know how to deal with a teenage daughter?

But the past few years he had played on the other Dawgs team in a different league. He thought that he was getting too old to hang with the kids at the higher level, but he was wrong. He had good skills and busted his ass during games. And he was in terrific physical shape. When we stood together in the parking lot, we looked like a Jenny Craig before and after picture.

We would still run into each other every now and again, when I'd sub for the regular goalie Brian on Dawgs II, or we would have some scrimmages before the start of the season. And I understand he would occasionally peek in on this blogsite to see which Dawgs players I was going to pick on that week. For those of you who haven't been here before, I write game stories about our previous week's hockey matches, mostly so I can bust the chops of all the boys on the team. To put it mildly, it's a little bit naughty, but it's all in good fun, and everyone seems to get a kick out of it.

I even got Jack once. I was sent a picture of him with his eyes closed on the bench, and made up a scenario where he was getting so old he fell asleep during the game and dreamed about money. Here's the picture and the original caption:



You see, Jack had done real well when he worked for Merrill Lynch in the 90's, and had continued to prosper after he started his own financial business here in Colorado. But you never would have known that by playing hockey with the guy or having a conversation with him after the game. He was as down to earth as they come. Just a regular bloke that loved to play.

But behind the scenes, he was exceptionally generous. He financed really nice jerseys for both Dawgs teams, and on separate occasions, bought socks, hats, and hoodies for the boys. And he never made a big deal about it. He was just a damn good guy.

That's why Dawg Nation rallied around Jack when he got sick. That's why everyone, including all of the kids on the higher level team that had never even played with the guy, pitched in to buy his family gift cards for dinners when they were spending so much time at the hospital.

And that's why everyone that knew Jack prayed for his life to continue. But sometimes, I guess God's answer is no.

They say that everything happens for a reason, but it's tough to understand why there are millions of idiots alive and healthy, while a decent, generous man is taken at 53, leaving behind a wife and three daughters. I guess there's a bigger picture that I'm just not smart enough to comprehend. Because I honestly don't get it. It just shouldn't happen that way.

But here's what I do get. Here's what I take from the early death of my friend. You never know when it's going to be your time to go to the big penalty box in the sky. Hell, Jack was just two years older than me. You think that hasn't been on my mind?

If you'll allow me, I'm going to be serious for just a moment, and then I promise I'll go back to my standard defense mechanism of hiding behind dirty jokes. I know that's why you both read this crap. Not for some dumbass goalie getting all heavy and stuff.

Guys, you have to tell your people that you love them. Every day. Tell your wife or husband. Tell your friends and family. For God's sake, tell your kids.

I'm sure my four are sick of me telling them every night before they go to sleep, and telling them every day before they leave for school. But I don't give a rat's ass. If I get hit by a stray meteor tomorrow, I'll go out knowing that I told my wife and kids how much they mean to me today.

The passing of our teammate Jack at such a young age just drives the point home even more. You just never, ever know when it's your time.

Tell them. Don't wait.

I found out today how much Jack's friends in Dawg Nation meant to him. How much he appreciated all our support. And how much he enjoyed playing hockey and hanging out with the boys.

Next week, Jack's going to be laid to rest wearing his Dawgs jersey. The number 21 will never be worn by another Dawgs player. And we'll all wear a patch on our jerseys with his number or initials on it. That way, we'll always remember our friend.

Rest in peace, buddy. You were a good man. You were a good friend. We'll miss you.